Page 41 of Chasing Stripes

“It won’t hurt you,” Artemis assured her.

Jade’s small finger poked at the light, which shimmered and split into two smaller orbs, one floating to each twin. They giggled in delight as the magical lights danced around them.

Artemis rose, finding Bartek watching her with an expression that made her heart skip. Pride, admiration, and something deeper shimmered in his gaze.

“You’re good with children,” he observed quietly.

“I like their honesty. No pretense, no hidden agendas.”

“Uncle Bartek!” Lily called, her light hovering above her palm. “Look what Artemis made! Isn’t she the best girlfriend ever?”

Bartek’s eyes widened fractionally, a hint of color touching his cheekbones. “She’s not—we’re not?—”

“Don’t break their hearts, son,” Hudson spoke up from the fireplace, his voice a deep rumble similar to Bartek’s. “They’ve been planning your wedding since they heard her name.”

“Dad,” Bartek groaned, the sound so uncharacteristically boyish that Artemis had to stifle a laugh.

“I’m thinking a spring ceremony,” Mimi chimed in with mock seriousness. “Outdoors, with fairy lights in the trees.”

“You need to add pastries,” Gloria nodded thoughtfully. “Lots of Artemis’s pastries. And perhaps a tiger ice sculpture.”

“I hate all of you,” Bartek muttered, but the fondness in his tone belied the words.

Artemis watched the family banter, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with magic. This was what she had missed in the city—the easy affection, the sense of belonging, of history shared and future anticipated together.

“Don’t mind them,” Hudson said, materializing beside her with the silent grace all shifters seemed to possess. “They’ve been waiting years to tease him about someone special.”

“I’m not sure I qualify as special,” Artemis demurred.

Hudson’s eyes—so like Bartek’s—studied her with quiet intensity. “My son doesn’t bring people home, Ms. Blu. Not ever. The fact that you’re standing in our living room says more than you realize.”

Before she could formulate a response, Gloria clapped her hands. “Artemis, would you like to help in the kitchen? Mimi and I are just finishing up.”

“I’d love to,” Artemis replied, grateful for the reprieve from Hudson’s knowing gaze.

The kitchen proved to be a warm, inviting space dominated by a massive island and state-of-the-art appliances. Delicious aromas filled the air—roasting meat, herbs, freshly baked bread.

“Tigers are carnivores at heart,” Gloria explained, handing Artemis an apron. “But we’ve evolved to appreciate a more diverse menu.”

“Something my stomach appreciates,” Mimi added, stirring a pot of what smelled like rich gravy. “Though Bartek still prefers his steaks practically mooing.”

“Fae tend toward sweet things,” Gloria said, watching Artemis with interest. “Is that true for you as well?”

“I love sweets, obviously,” Artemis smiled, gesturing to her profession. “But I’m not opposed to a good steak.”

“Perfect answer,” Mimi stage-whispered. “Mom keeps a scorecard for potential mates.”

“I do not!” Gloria protested, then relented under her daughter’s knowing look. “Fine, but it’s more of a general compatibility assessment.”

Artemis laughed, finding herself relaxing despite the scrutiny. “And how am I scoring so far?”

“Let’s just say you’ve already outpaced the competition.” Gloria handed her a bowl of salad to toss. “Not that there’s been much competition. My son is married to his responsibilities.”

“The pride and the business,” Mimi explained. “Classic alpha workaholic syndrome.”

“Until recently,” Gloria added meaningfully.

“Has he shown you his protective stance yet?” Mimi changed the subject, setting down her spoon to demonstrate an exaggerated wide-legged posture with arms crossed, brow furrowed in mock seriousness. “The ‘I’m the alpha and I’m brooding’ pose?”

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