Chapter 61
SIXTY-ONE
T he wrought iron gates of the Tiikeri estate loomed before Thora, flanked by massive tiger statues with amber eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She gripped the steering wheel of her rental car until her knuckles whitened. The twenty-minute drive through winding mountain roads had given her far too much time to think.
She couldn’t put this off any longer. Before she could move on, she needed to know who she was. Maybe she’d get the answer here.
Her phone chimed with a text. Artair.
Make it safely?
Something warm unfurled in her chest at his concern. It wasn’t the first time he’d checked on her, but these small gestures—the quiet ways he showed he cared without smothering her independence—had begun to matter more than she’d expected.
Just arrived. Haven’t gone in yet.
She hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen before adding: Thank you for worrying.
Thora placed the phone in her lap, surprised by her own candor. Three weeks ago, she would have dismissed his concern as unnecessary, even irritating. Now she found herself drawing comfort from it.
The gates swung open without her touching them, and Thora instinctively tensed.
“Not magic” came a voice as a slender woman emerged from a small gatehouse. “Motion sensors and a very attentive security team.”
Her silver-streaked auburn hair was pulled back in an elegant twist, and amber eyes—remarkably similar to Thora’s own—studied her with warm interest.
“Louisa.” Thora recognized her from their brief encounter in town.
“Welcome, Thora.” Louisa moved toward the car with graceful steps. No sudden movements as if approaching a skittish animal. “Thank you for coming. The others are eager to meet you.”
Thora stepped out of the car, smoothing her hands down the fitted blazer she’d borrowed from Bryn. The forest-green fabric complemented her complexion, but the formality made her skin itch.
“Don’t look so terrified,” Louisa said softly. “They’re just people who’ve waited a very long time for this.”
“That’s what terrifies me.” Thora glanced toward the imposing main house with its stone facade and climbing roses. “I’m not who they think I am.”
“You don’t know who they think you are,” Louisa countered gently. “Perhaps you should find out before deciding.”
As they walked up the curved driveway, Thora caught glimpses of the estate. Gardens stretched in every direction, and smaller buildings dotted the expansive grounds. It wasn’t just a home but a community—a place built for generations of tiger shifters to live together.
“Did you know my mother well?” Thora asked, the question slipping out before she could reconsider.
Louisa’s pace slowed. “Karina and I were cousins, but we grew up more like sisters. She was brilliant, fiercely independent, and passionate about everything she believed in.” A sad smile touched her lips. “She challenged the old ways, questioned traditions that didn’t make sense for modern times.”
“Sounds like a troublemaker,” Thora observed, a strange flutter in her chest at this glimpse of the woman who had given her life.
“The best kind.” Louisa’s eyes crinkled. “The pride needed her fire, though many didn’t recognize it until she was gone.”
They rounded a stone path that led away from the main house toward a circular clearing surrounded by ancient oak trees. A semicircle of chairs faced a small, raised platform, and every seat was filled. Men and women of varying ages turned to watch her approach, their collective gaze making the hair on Thora’s neck stand on end.
Her sabertooth stirred beneath her skin, whiskers twitching with curiosity rather than threat. These were her kind—or at least half her lineage—and her animal recognized them on a level beyond conscious thought.
An elderly man rose from the center chair. Despite the silver mane framing his face and the cane that supported his steps, his posture remained regal and powerful.
“Thora Halliwell.” His resonant voice carried across the courtyard. “I am Aleksander Tiikeri, pride alpha.”
He paused, amber eyes studying her with such intensity that Thora fought the urge to step back.
“Your grandfather,” he added, the words falling into the silence like stones into still water.
Grandfather. Thora had spent twenty-eight years without family and defining herself through independence and isolation. The simple word threatened the foundation of her identity.
“I don’t know what to call you,” she admitted, hating how young she suddenly felt.
A flicker of pain crossed his weathered features before smoothing away. “Aleksander will do, for now.”
Louisa guided her to a chair at the center of the assembly. Thora lowered herself onto it, spine straight, muscles coiled as if preparing for combat. The intensity of so many tiger shifters in one place amplified her own sabertooth’s responses, making her skin prickle with heightened awareness.
Aleksander returned to his seat, then gestured to Louisa. “As the one who first recognized you, Louisa will present the formal account of your lineage.”
Louisa stepped onto the platform, her expression solemn. “Twenty-eight years ago, our pride suffered an irreplaceable loss when Karina Tiikeri, daughter of Aleksander and heir to the pride leadership, disappeared with Nikolai Saberfang, alpha heir of the Northern Sabertooth Coalition.”
The words “pride heir” sent a shiver down Thora’s spine. Not just any family connection, but a royal one—with expectations and responsibilities she couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Their love was genuine but complicated by generations of territorial disputes between our prides,” Louisa continued. “When Karina discovered she was carrying a child, they chose to elope rather than face separation.”