Page 67 of Grin and Bear It

“Words were said that couldn’t be taken back. He called me a mindless puppet of tradition. I called him selfish, said he was betraying everything our parents had built.” His throat tightened at the memory. “When our parents’ private plane went down the next day, Calan was supposedly with them.”

The grief he’d carried resurfaced, raw and unhealed. “The crash site was so devastating that we couldn’t recover complete remains. We held a funeral for all three of them—mother, father, and my twin. I’ve spent fifteen years thinking he’d died alongside them.”

Thora pulled back slightly to look up at him, her face illuminated by a flash of lightning from outside the cave. “And all this time he’s been alive. Watching you. Planning.”

“Planning what, though? Revenge? For what?” The questions that had been haunting him since he’d first glimpsed his brother spilled out. “I lost our parents too. I was the one who had to step up and take over everything when I was barely twenty, believing I was completely alone.”

“Maybe that’s exactly it,” Thora said softly. “You inherited everything—the responsibility, but also the recognition, the position in society.”

“It wasn’t by choice,” Artair countered, frustration edging his voice. “I would have given anything to have had more time, more guidance from our father. To have shared the burden with my brother instead of shouldering it alone.”

Her hand came up to touch his face, her fingers tracing the tense line of his jaw. The gesture was so unexpected, so gentle, that it momentarily stunned him into silence.

“Some people see only what others have, not what they’ve lost to get it,” she murmured. “I’ve tracked enough fugitives to recognize the patterns. Resentment ferments into something toxic when left to grow in isolation.”

The compassion in her eyes undid him. His bear surged forward, protective and possessive in equal measure. Before he could second-guess himself, Artair lowered his head and captured her lips with his.

SIXTY

This kiss carried none of the hesitancy of their first. It was hungry, demanding, fueled by the storm of emotions the night had unleashed. His hands came up to frame her face, thumbs stroking her cheekbones as his mouth claimed hers with unmistakable intent.

For a heartbeat, she stiffened in surprise—then melted against him with a soft sound that vibrated through his chest. Her hands moved from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair to pull him closer.

The taste of her—rain and honey and something uniquely Thora—intoxicated him. His bear rumbled with satisfaction as her lips parted, granting him deeper access. One hand slid to her lower back, pressing her fully against him, while the other cradled the back of her head.

Her sabertooth responded with a purr he could feel against his chest where they pressed together. The sound reverberated through him, stirring something primal deep in his core. This wasn’t merely physical attraction, though that element burned hot between them. It was recognition, connection, the acknowledgment of something his bear had known from theirfirst encounter—she belonged with him, complemented him in ways no one else ever had.

The kiss deepened further, crossing from passionate to reverent. He explored her mouth with deliberate care, memorizing every response, cataloging the small sounds she made when he changed angle or pressure. Her hands weren’t idle either, tracing the muscles of his shoulders and back through the wet fabric of his shirt, each touch stoking the fire between them.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, they were both breathing hard. Her amber eyes remained closed for several heartbeats, lips slightly parted, an expression of wonder softening her features. When her lashes finally fluttered open, the vulnerability in her gaze struck him deeply—as if she’d momentarily forgotten to guard herself.

“That was...” she began, her voice husky.

“Overdue,” he finished, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip.

A sudden noise from outside—footsteps, a branch snapping—jolted them apart. In an instant, they transformed from lovers to hunters, alert and ready.

“Someone’s out there,” Thora whispered, her expression sharpening into professional focus.

Artair nodded, reluctantly releasing her to move toward the cave entrance. “Ajax’s men, searching for survivors.”

They communicated in hushed tones and gestures, falling back into their tactical partnership with practiced ease. Artair extracted a small handgun from an ankle holster while Thora positioned herself for optimal coverage of their shelter.

Despite the abrupt shift in focus, the air between them remained charged. Each time their eyes met, he saw the echo of that kiss—and the promise of more, once danger passed. Her lipsremained slightly swollen, her cheeks flushed, small signs that only he would notice and appreciate.

The storm began to slacken, rain softening to a gentle patter. Through the cave entrance, they could see flashlight beams sweeping the forest floor near the crash site.

“They haven’t spotted the cave,” Thora murmured. “If we wait, they might move on.”

Artair nodded, knowing she was right. The mission had to take precedence over his desperate desire to continue what they’d started. His bear growled in frustration, but he forced it to settle.

Even so, as they stood shoulder to shoulder in the dimness, he couldn’t resist reaching for her hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, comfortably, as if they’d been doing this for years instead of days. When she squeezed his hand in silent response, something shifted in his chest—a click, like a key turning in a lock.

This woman who never stayed anywhere longer than three months, who built her life around avoiding attachments, was standing beside him by choice. More than that, she’d responded to his kiss with an enthusiasm that belied her usual caution. His bear hummed with satisfaction at the progress—slow but steady like the patient stalking of precious prey.

The search party eventually moved away, their voices fading into the distance. The immediate danger passed, but they remained vigilant, aware that their night was far from over.

“We need to get back to town,” Artair said reluctantly. “Alert security about the diamond.”

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