Page 49 of Chasing Stripes

They fell into step together, close enough that their hands brushed with each movement. The handprints glowed visibly through her dress, illuminating their path with soft golden light.

Neither spoke for several moments, content in the comfortable silence. When they reached the corner where Main Street intersected with Blossom Lane, Bartek finally broke the quiet.

“I’ve been fighting this since we met,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m tired of fighting.”

Artemis stopped, turning to face him. “Then stop fighting,” she challenged softly.

His eyes searched hers, amber flickering in their depths. “You don’t understand what this could mean. The pride has expectations for their alpha. A fae mate would be... unprecedented.”

“Is that all I am to you? A potential mate?”

“No,” he answered immediately, stepping closer. “You’re so much more. That’s what scares me.”

The vulnerability in his admission caught her off guard. This powerful alpha shifter, leader of an entire pride, was standing before her admitting his fear.

“That kiss at my parents’ house,” Bartek murmured, moving closer until mere inches separated them. “I haven’t been able to think of anything else.”

“Then maybe you need a more thorough reminder,” Artemis challenged, her heart racing as she watched his eyes darken.

This time, there was no hesitation. Bartek’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her firmly against him as his other hand tangled in her hair. Their lips met with none of the earlier restraint—this kiss was hungry, passionate, a culmination of days of fighting their attraction.

Magic exploded around them—the bakery’s lights surged, pastries visible through the window rose and spun, the very air shimmered with golden sparks. The handprints on Artemis’s waist spread like liquid gold across her skin while matching patterns appeared briefly on Bartek’s chest where her hands pressed against him.

Artemis felt her control slipping, her fae magic responding to the intensity of their connection. Flowers on nearby windowsills burst into bloom, the cobblestones beneath their feet warmed and glowed softly, and she swore she could taste his emotions—desire, wonder, and something deeper, more primal.

When they finally parted, breathless and stunned, Bartek’s eyes had gone completely amber, his tiger nature clearly ascendant. “I should go, Fairy Princess,” he whispered roughly, the endearment making her heart soar. His hands remained possessively on her waist. “Before I can’t.”

“Or you could stay, Tiger Hunk,” Artemis suggested boldly, her own eyes glowing with fae light, the invitation unmistakable.

His eyes darkened at the nickname, a growl of approval rumbling in his chest. “Bold of you to flirt with a predator,” he murmured, but his pleased expression betrayed how much he liked the name.

Something dark and hungry flashed in his eyes before he visibly reined himself in. “I want to do this properly,” he explained, his formal nature reasserting itself. “You deserve more than just magical attraction.”

Artemis smiled, touching his face gently. “The magic brought us together, but it’s you I’m choosing to know better.”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “Not for festival preparation. A real date, just us.”

“I’d like that.”

He leaned down for one more kiss—briefer but no less potent—before reluctantly stepping back. Even that small distance felt wrong somehow, her body instinctively wanting to follow his.

“Goodnight, my Fairy Princess,” he said, the tenderness in his voice making her heart ache sweetly.

“Sweet dreams, Tiger Hunk,” she replied, watching as he forced himself to turn and walk away. He glanced back twice before disappearing around the corner, the second time with a smile that was equal parts promise and longing.

Artemis stood outside the bakery for several moments, her fingers tracing her still-tingling lips, the handprints on her waist gradually dimming as the distance between them increased. Something fundamental had shifted tonight—not just between them, but within her. Whatever this connection was, she wouldn’t fight it anymore.

As she turned to unlock the bakery door, a flicker of movement across the street caught her attention. Nothing visible remained, but her fae senses tingled with warning. For a brief moment, she considered calling Bartek back, but dismissed the impulse. He’d made it clear how protective his instincts were; a vague feeling wouldn’t justify alarming him.

Still, as she stepped inside and locked the door behind her, Artemis couldn’t shake the sensation of hidden eyes watching from the darkness.

FORTY-TWO

Aburning sensation pulled Bartek from deep sleep. His eyes snapped open in the darkness of his bedroom as pain crawled across his chest. The golden handprints where Artemis had touched him earlier pulsed with increasing intensity, searing through his shirt.

He sat up, disoriented. The digital clock on his nightstand read 2:13 AM.

His tiger spirit clawed frantically inside him, demanding release in a way he’d never experienced. Not during territorial disputes with neighboring prides. Not during his alpha challenge years ago. This went deeper, more primal.

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