Page 47 of Chasing Stripes

Artemis thought about the way Bartek’s eyes softened when he watched his nieces, how his hands were always gentle despite his strength, the fierce protectiveness that radiated from him like heat. She remembered his patience as they worked on festival recipes, his unexpected flashes of humor, the vulnerability she glimpsed beneath his alpha exterior.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I do.”

Their appetizers arrived—a platter laden with supernaturally enhanced dishes. Mushroom caps that glowed faintly blue, cheese sticks that stretched impossibly long without breaking, and nachos with salsa that changed flavor with each bite.

“Enough serious talk,” Bryn declared, selecting a mushroom. “Tell us about the bakery. How’s Tilly doing with semi-retirement?”

Grateful for the change of subject, Artemis launched into stories about her aunt’s mixed feelings about stepping back from daily operations, the special orders they’d received for the upcoming festival, and her plans to incorporate more fae magic into their signature desserts.

The conversation flowed easily after that, covering everything from Thora’s latest bounty hunt (a rogue werewolf who’d been stealing magical artifacts) to Bryn’s charity planning for the upcoming spring festival.

Artemis found herself relaxing into their company, struck by how quickly she’d found a place among these women. In the city, friendships had been more transactional, colleagues rather than confidantes. Here, surrounded by supernatural beings who understood her magic and accepted her quirks, she felt a sense of belonging that had eluded her for years.

“—and then Rust tried to explain to the council why half the town square was covered in snow in July,” Kalyna finished her story, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“Your husband has the patience of a saint,” Thora commented, shaking her head.

“He needs it, married to a fox,” Bryn quipped.

Kalyna’s retort died on her lips as her gaze fixed on something over Artemis’s shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly.

“Don’t be obvious,” she murmured, “but we have company.”

Before Artemis could ask what she meant, the door to the Moonlit Cauldron swung open. A ripple of awareness passed through the room—the subtle shift in atmospheric pressure that happened when powerful shifters entered a space.

FORTY

Artemis didn’t need to turn around. Her body reacted instantly, the handprints at her waist blazing so brightly, they illuminated the tabletop. Her drink transformed from emerald to molten gold, practically radiating light.

“Oh my,” Bryn giggled behind her hand. “That’s quite the reaction.”

Heart racing, Artemis chanced a glance over her shoulder. Bartek stood in the doorway, flanked by Haavi, Rust, and a tall man she assumed must be Artair. His eyes found hers immediately as though drawn by an invisible thread.

The entire bar seemed to react to their connection—glasses tinkling faintly, the magical candles overhead swirling to create a spotlight effect between them.

Bartek froze mid-step, his companions noticing his reaction and following his gaze. Rust smirked, nudging Haavi who grinned knowingly.

“That,” Thora whispered beside her, “is NOT casual interest. That’s pure mate recognition.”

Unable to look away, Artemis watched as Bartek said something brief to his friends before making his way toward their table. The crowd seemed to part naturally before him, shifters and magical beings alike sensing the charged energy surrounding him.

“Ladies,” he greeted them, his deep voice sending a shiver down Artemis’s spine. His eyes, however, remained fixed on her. “Mind if we join you?”

“What a coincidence,” Kalyna’s voice dripped with innocence that fooled no one. “We were just talking about you.”

Thora kicked her under the table, but the damage was done. Artemis’s cheeks burned.

“All good things, I hope.” Bartek’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile that transformed his usually serious face.

“Mostly,” Artemis found her voice, surprised by her own boldness. “Though your childhood tiger shift photos came up.”

His eyebrows shot up. “There’s no way—” He turned accusingly to Bryn.

The bear shifter raised her hands in surrender. “I have not shown anyone those pictures...yet.”

“Gloria mentioned them last week,” Kalyna supplied helpfully. “Apparently, you were quite the adorable cub.”

Bartek’s friends had reached the table, pulling up extra chairs. Rust slid in beside Kalyna, dropping a casual kiss on her temple.

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