Page 33 of Grin and Bear It

The tether between them had contracted to mere inches, pulsing contentedly with golden light. Their partial shifts had apparently compensated for the tether’s demand for closeness. More concerning—his body had acted entirely without conscious direction, seeking her out even in sleep.

He should have been alarmed. Instead, his bear hummed with satisfaction. The primal part of him recognized this closeness as right, as necessary. His paw absently stroked through her tawny coat, following the same rhythmic pattern from earlier.

Her fur felt like sun-warmed silk beneath his touch. Each stroke elicited a soft rumbling purr that vibrated against hischest. The sound tugged at something deep within him—a longing he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. Not just for physical closeness, but for the genuine connection that had always eluded him in his carefully controlled life.

His past relationships had never reached this level of instinctive comfort. Women sought him for his wealth, his position, his physical appeal—superficial attractions that left him increasingly dissatisfied. But Thora hadn’t wanted anything from him. In fact, she’d actively resisted their connection at every turn.

Perhaps that was part of her appeal, he admitted to himself. She challenged him, matched him, saw through the polished CEO facade to the man beneath. She didn’t simper or flatter. She called him on his arrogance, stood her ground when he pulled rank.

His bear approved wholeheartedly of her strength.Worthy mate, it insisted.Claim her.

But his human side recognized the complexity of the situation. Thora clearly valued her independence. Her life as a bounty hunter involved constant movement, while his responsibilities anchored him to Enchanted Falls. She had no family ties, while his entire existence revolved around clan obligations and legacy.

And yet... seeing her sabertooth curled trustingly against him stirred protective instincts he couldn’t ignore. The glimpses of her lonely childhood through their shared dreams revealed vulnerabilities she kept carefully hidden. What would it be like to give her a home, a place to belong? Someone who wouldn’t leave?

Her body tensed against him. Golden eyes blinked open, confusion shifting rapidly to mortification as she registered their position. Before he could speak, her sabertooth instinctivelynuzzled his throat—a gesture of feline affection that stopped his heart for a beat.

Then her human consciousness surfaced. She sprang from the bed with a grace that belied her partial shift, landing in a defensive crouch near the door.

The sudden movement triggered his protective instincts. Artair’s transformation completed in seconds, his massive bear form rising on the bed. The frame groaned in protest beneath his weight, wooden slats creaking dangerously.

They stared at each other across the rumpled sheets, predator to predator. Her sabertooth’s golden eyes assessed him, fangs partially bared in confusion rather than threat. His bear huffed softly, communicating without words:No danger here. Come back.

The morning sunlight streamed through the window, catching in her tawny fur, turning it to molten gold. His bear stared in frank admiration. She was magnificent—sleek power and deadly grace wrapped in a compact form perfectly designed for speed and precision strikes. Where his bear relied on overwhelming force, her sabertooth exemplified lethal efficiency.

Instead of responding to his bear’s invitation, Thora’s form rippled as fur receded, fangs shrank, and human features reemerged. She snatched her borrowed shirt from the floor, yanking it over her head with quick, efficient movements.

The glimpse of smooth skin broke his bear’s focus. Artair forced his own shift, reclaiming his human form with effort. His heart pounded as he reached for his discarded sweats, acutely aware of her averted gaze.

“What the hell was that?” Thora demanded, her voice unsteady despite her attempt at anger.

Artair ran a hand through his hair, buying time to organize his thoughts. “Apparently our animals have bettercommunication skills than we do,” he replied, aiming for humor but hearing the rough edge in his own voice.

She scowled. “This isn’t funny. We shifted in our sleep.” Her fingers combed through her tangled hair, a nervous gesture he hadn’t seen from her before. “That doesn’t just happen.”

“It’s rare,” he conceded, pulling on a T-shirt. “But not unheard of when—” He caught himself before completing the thought.

“When what?” she challenged.

When potential mates form a bond, his bear supplied, but Artair swallowed the words. “When shifters experience intense shared dreams.”

“You saw more,” she said quietly. Not a question.

He nodded, watching her carefully. “The motorcycle you rebuilt. Your first bounty—that werewolf in Denver.” He paused, uncertain how she’d react to his next admission. “The night you turned eighteen and left the orphanage for good. How you slept in your car for three months while saving for an apartment.”

THIRTY-TWO

Thora’s fingers stilled in her hair. “You saw all that?”

“Fragments. Impressions.” He took a step toward her, then stopped when she tensed. “I felt how determined you were. How you refused to give up even when everything seemed stacked against you.”

She studied him, wariness in her amber eyes. “I saw your twentieth birthday party. Right before your parents...” She trailed off.

“Before the accident,” he finished for her.

“Your mother gave you a pocket watch. Your father’s.” Her gaze flickered to his nightstand, where that same watch lay. “You still wind it every night before bed.”

The accuracy of her observation caught him off guard. It was a private ritual he performed without thinking—a way to maintain connection with his father. “You saw that too.”

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