Page 52 of Chasing Stripes

This is right, his tiger insisted.This is mate.

Artemis stumbled on scattered ritual components, twisting her ankle. She cried out as she fell against the door frame, scraping her arm. The scent of her blood hit Bartek like a physical blow.

He moved without thought, massive tiger body curving protectively around her smaller form. His tail swept around, creating a living barrier between Artemis and any potential threat. Low growls rumbled continuously from his chest, warning everyone to keep their distance.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Haavi’s truck skidded around the corner, followed by Thora’s motorcycle and Rust’s official vehicle. The remaining attackers retreated, one stumbling directly into Thora’s path.

The sabertooth shifter moved with lethal grace, tackling the hooded figure and shifting partially to pin him with elongated fangs at their throat.

“Got one,” she called triumphantly, yanking back their hood.

FORTY-FOUR

The others disappeared into a swirling portal before anyone could intercept them. Bartek caught a glimpse of a shadowed figure observing from across the street—someone cloaked in powerful magic that obscured their features. They melted into darkness before he could identify them.

His attention returned to Artemis, who leaned against him, her fingers buried in his fur. The golden handprints now manifested on his tiger form as luminous paw prints, matching the ones visible through her thin shirt.

The bitter scent of her pain drove everything else from his mind. He nuzzled her gently, encouraging her to lean more fully against him.

“Bartek?” Rust approached cautiously, hands visible. “We need you to shift back so we can talk. She’s safe now.”

The tiger refused to release control. Rational thought warred with protective instinct. His pride surrounded them, securing the area. The immediate threat had passed. Yet the tiger would not yield.

Artemis seemed to understand. She kneeled before him, wincing at her injured ankle, and placed her hands directly on his face.

“It’s okay, Tiger Hunk,” she whispered, voice pitched for him alone. “I’m safe because of you.”

The pet name penetrated his primal state. Something so mundane, so intimate, anchored him to his humanity. The contact between them created visible magic—gold and amber light swirling in a gentle vortex.

His growls softened to deep, rumbling purrs as her fingers stroked through the ruff around his neck. Slowly, with far more control than his initial transformation, Bartek’s body shifted back to human form.

He knelt before her, acutely aware of his near-nakedness as shredded clothing hung from his frame. His eyes—still tiger-amber, he could tell from her reaction—remained fixed on her injured arm.

“I would have killed them all,” he confessed, voice rough with emotion. The admission shocked him with its truth. “If they’d truly hurt you...”

“I know,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the golden handprints that still glowed on his chest.

The contact sent images cascading through his mind—not memories but possibilities. Artemis laughing in the pride house kitchen. Artemis running beside him in the forest. Artemis in his arms, in his bed. Artemis with silver in her hair, still holding his hand decades from now.

“What is happening to us?” Her voice trembled with wonder.

“You’re becoming mine,” he answered, the truth too powerful to hide. “And I’m becoming yours.”

Haavi approached with quiet respect, draping his jacket over Bartek’s shoulders.

“I’ll call Gloria and Hudson,” he murmured. “Your mother is beside herself.”

Bartek nodded, unable to look away from Artemis. “Tell them we’re safe.”

“Are we?” Artemis asked softly, glancing toward where the attackers had fled.

Before he could answer, Tilly rushed through the gathering crowd, her usually bubbly demeanor replaced by fierce determination. She wore a nightgown under a hastily donned cardigan, gray hair escaping its braid.

“Let me see,” she demanded, kneeling beside Artemis to examine her injuries. Her hands glowed with healing magic as she touched the scraped arm. “Minor, thank the gods.” She moved to the ankle, clucking in concern. “This needs proper treatment.”

Tilly’s gaze caught on the handprints glowing on Artemis’s waist and mirrored on Bartek’s chest. Her eyes widened.

“Ancestral bond marks,” she breathed. “My grandmother told stories... but I haven’t seen them in my lifetime.”

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