Page 48 of Chasing Stripes

“Are we discussing Bartek’s embarrassing cub years?” Haavi asked eagerly. “Because I have stories that would make his fur stand on end.”

“Another word,” Bartek growled, “and I’m revoking your position as my right hand.”

“You’d be lost without me,” Haavi replied cheerfully, completely unfazed by the threat.

As they settled in, the group naturally reorganized, creating space for Bartek to sit beside Artemis. The moment he slid into the booth next to her, the handprints flared even brighter, and she felt her magic surge in response to his proximity.

“I apologize for my mother’s not-so-subtle matchmaking,” Bartek murmured, his voice a low rumble only she could hear.

“I liked it,” Artemis admitted boldly, her hand daringly touching his where it rested on the table. “I liked all of it.”

The handprints between them pulsed in unison, creating a visible golden glow beneath the table that their friends pretended not to notice while exchanging triumphant glances.

Watching Rust and Kalyna’s easy intimacy, the way Thora and Artair communicated with mere glances, Artemis found herself imagining a future where she and Bartek might share that same comfortable connection. The thought didn’t frighten her as it once might have.

Conversation flowed around them, but Artemis remained acutely aware of Bartek beside her—the heat radiating from his body, the faint spice-and-forest scent that clung to him, the way his shoulder occasionally brushed against hers when he reached for his drink.

When he brushed a strand of hair from her face, all the drinks on their table briefly levitated, startling a laugh from Bryn.

“Your magic is responsive tonight,” Bartek commented, watching the glasses settle back down.

“It has a mind of its own lately,” Artemis replied, deliberately not mentioning that it only happened around him.

His knowing smile told her he understood exactly what she wasn’t saying.

As the evening progressed, Artemis found herself relaxing into this unexpected dynamic, enjoying the easy camaraderie between their two groups of friends. She belonged here, she realized. Not just in Enchanted Falls, but in this circle, with these people who accepted the magic that sparked between her and Bartek as something natural and beautiful rather than strange or frightening.

It was during one of these moments—watching Thora laugh at something Artair whispered in her ear—that Artemis felt a sudden chill. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a warning prickle that her fae senses recognized instantly.

Someone was watching them.

FORTY-ONE

Artemis scanned the bar, eyes narrowing as she studied the darker corners and shadowed alcoves. For a split second, she caught a glimpse of a familiar profile near the exit—Thaddeus?—but when she looked more directly, the figure was gone.

“Everything okay?” Bartek asked, immediately alert to her change in mood, his protective instincts flaring.

“Just a weird feeling,” she responded, still troubled. “Like we were being watched.”

Bartek’s nostrils flared as he scanned the room, his shifter senses extending. “That scent...” he murmured, frowning. “It was here, but it’s fading.”

The momentary unease cast a brief shadow over their evening, a reminder that the stolen recipe book and its potential dangers hadn’t disappeared just because their relationship was blossoming.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” Rust suggested, his mayoral authority subtly asserting itself. “It’s getting late.”

Agreement rippled around the table, though Artemis suspected their friends were simply providing an excuse for her and Bartek to have some time alone. They settled their tab—Bartek insisting on covering Artemis’s portion despite her protests—and gathered their belongings.

Outside, the night air carried the crisp scent of pine and magic that defined Enchanted Falls. Stars glittered overhead, brighter here than they’d ever been in the city where Artemis had lived before returning home.

Their friends dispersed with transparent excuses—Kalyna suddenly remembered an early meeting, Thora and Artair needed to check on something at his office, Rust had paperwork waiting, and Haavi received a conveniently-timed text from Mimi.

“Well, that wasn’t obvious at all,” Artemis commented dryly as they watched their friends disappear down the street.

“Subtlety isn’t their strong suit,” Bartek agreed, amusement coloring his voice. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

He turned to her, moonlight silvering his features. “May I walk you home?”

“I’d like that.”

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