Page 69 of Grin and Bear It

“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.”

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Thora’s hand drifted unconsciously to her flat stomach, imagining her mother’s desperation—pregnant, in love, forced to choose between family obligations and personal happiness.

“Eight months later, as they traveled to a neutral location to attempt reconciliation with both families, their vehicle was forced off Serpent’s Pass.” Louisa’s voice faltered for the first time. “By the time search parties located the wreckage, both Karina and Nikolai had perished from their injuries.”

A ripple of shared grief passed through the assembly. Even decades later, the wound remained raw. Thora sat perfectly still, trying to process that these strangers had mourned parents she’d never known.

“Their infant daughter was never found,” Louisa continued. “Some believed she had been thrown clear of the vehicle. Others feared...”

She didn’t finish the thought, but the implication hung heavy in the air. Abduction. Murder. Darker possibilities that explained a missing child.

“For decades, we believed the Tiikeri-Saberfang lineage was lost forever.” Louisa’s gaze fixed on Thora. “Until rumorsreached us of a sabertooth bounty hunter with remarkable tracking abilities and unprecedented resilience in Enchanted Falls. A young woman who matched the age Karina’s daughter would have reached.”

Thora’s heart hammered against her ribs as the pieces aligned—her unknown origins, her sabertooth nature, the strange dreams of falling that had plagued her childhood.

“How can you be certain?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt. “The timing matches, but that’s circumstantial evidence at best. Any decent court would throw out such a flimsy case.”

Aleksander rose again, approaching her with deliberate steps that belied his apparent frailty.

“Blood recognizes blood,” he said simply. “But we need not rely on mysticism alone.”

From his pocket, he produced a small velvet pouch. With reverent care, he withdrew a delicate gold chain with a pendant—a tiger carved from amber, frozen mid-leap.

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