Chapter 66
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T he question hung between them, weighted with possibility. Thora found herself considering Enchanted Falls—not as a temporary assignment but as a potential home. Its quirky shops and magical atmosphere. The library where Kalyna worked part-time. Elder Willow’s herb garden. Bryn’s infectious laughter. Artair’s cabin with its view of the mountains.
“Less than I was,” she admitted quietly. “Which should terrify me, but somehow doesn’t.”
The smile that spread across his face warmed her from the inside out. Before he could respond, a thunderous crash shattered the moment. Glass exploded inward as black-clad figures rappelled through the windows. Thora rolled off the couch in one fluid motion, years of combat training overriding her nakedness.
“Bear bane!” Artair shouted, identifying the distinctive silver-tipped darts one attacker aimed in their direction.
Thora’s sabertooth surged forward, lending her supernatural speed as she launched herself toward the nearest intruder. Her towel fell away, but modesty meant nothing compared to survival. She connected with bone-jarring force, knocking the weapon from his hands.
Behind her, Artair had partially shifted—massive bear claws extending from human hands as he faced off against two more attackers. The air filled with the sounds of combat—grunts, crashes, the distinctive whine of specialized weapons.
“Artair, left!” she called out, spotting a fourth figure emerging from the shadows.
They moved in tandem, her quick strikes complementing his powerful blows. Despite their rushed transition from intimacy to battle, their coordination remained flawless.
A quick assessment showed four assailants down, but more shapes moved beyond the shattered windows. These weren’t random thieves—they’d come prepared for bear shifter resistance with specialized weapons and tactical formation.
“Ajax’s crew,” Artair confirmed grimly, identifying the distinctive combat style.
Thora spotted an attacker raising what looked like a modified crossbow, its bolt gleaming with a substance that smelled wrong even at a distance. The weapon swung toward Artair’s unprotected back as he grappled with another intruder.
Time slowed as clarity struck her with crystal precision. This man—this stubborn, protective, unexpectedly tender bear shifter—had become essential to her. The thought of him injured or worse sent panic coursing through her veins, followed by fierce determination.
Her body moved without conscious command, sabertooth instincts calculating trajectory and interception point. She heard herself shouting his name as she lunged between him and the weapon. She knew the effects the poison would have on her and she didn’t care.
Pain exploded across her side as the bolt connected. The specialized toxin burned through her system like liquid fire, designed to incapacitate bear shifters but still be devastating to feline physiology. She staggered but remained upright, drawing on reserves of strength she hadn’t known she possessed.
Louisa’s words echoed through her mind: You have your father’s courage and your mother’s protectiveness.
In that crystalline moment of pain and clarity, Thora understood something fundamental—about herself, about the blood that ran in her veins, about the heart she’d kept carefully guarded for so long. Her parents had died protecting each other and their unborn child. Now she stood between danger and someone she... loved.
The realization didn’t come as a shock but as a quiet certainty as if her heart had known long before her mind caught up. She loved Artair—his strength and his vulnerability, his leadership and his kindness, his unwavering support of her independence even as he offered her a place to belong.
The moment of revelation cost her focus. A second bolt struck her shoulder, driving her to her knees. She fought to remain conscious, sabertooth raging against the toxins flooding her system. Through blurring vision, she saw Artair’s face contort with fury and fear. He roared—a sound more bear than human—as he tore through the remaining attackers to reach her. Bodies flew in his wake, his strength magnified by protective rage.
“Thora!” His voice sounded distant despite his proximity.
She tried to respond, to tell him she was okay, to confess what she’d just realized about her feelings for him. But her mouth wouldn’t cooperate, her muscles refusing to obey as the toxin spread through her system.
As darkness crowded the edges of her vision, Thora found herself thinking not of the danger, not of the mission, but of all the things she suddenly wanted—mornings in Artair’s kitchen, nights under the stars behind his cabin, a small office in town where she could establish a permanent base for her bounty hunting. A home. A future.
The last thing she registered was the warmth of his arms lifting her, cradling her against his chest as he whispered fierce promises that they would be okay, that he wouldn’t let her go.
Her final coherent thought held none of the panic or resistance she would have expected at such vulnerability. Instead, she felt an unexpected peace—if this was where her journey ended, at least she’d finally found what she’d been searching for all along: somewhere she belonged, someone worth staying for.
And Artair was definitely worth staying for.