Page 57 of Chasing Stripes

“Our tiger spirits woke us up,” Jade explained with the matter-of-fact certainty of a child. “Daddy says you and Uncle Bartek did a special magic dance.”

From across the room, Hudson and Haavi paused their quiet conversation about security measures. Hudson’s eyes crinkled in amusement while Haavi looked momentarily mortified by his daughter’s choice of words.

“Jade!” he called. “That’s not exactly?—”

“But you said their magic made sparkles when they touched,” Jade protested. “Like dancing light.”

Mimi swooped in, gently disentangling her daughters from Artemis’s legs. “Girls, let Artemis breathe. She needs breakfast after all that excitement.” She winked at Artemis. “You’ve got the handprints of a claimed mate and survived your first magical attack. Welcome to the family fast-track.”

Before Artemis could respond, a wave of warmth flooded through her body. The handprints at her waist flared so intensely, they glowed through her blouse, casting golden light across the dining table. Every instinct in her body pulled toward the doorway.

Bartek stood there, his broad frame filling the entrance. Freshly showered, his damp hair curled slightly at the temples, softening his usually severe expression. His simple black T-shirt clung to his shoulders, and through the thin fabric, Artemis glimpsed the faint glow of matching golden handprints on his chest—her handprints.

Their eyes locked across the room.

Every utensil on the table simultaneously rose an inch into the air before clattering back down in unison. A serving spoon flipped, splattering syrup across the tablecloth.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Hudson chuckled, rescuing his coffee mug mid-hover.

FORTY-NINE

Artemis couldn’t look away as Bartek crossed the room. Her pulse quickened with each step he took toward her, the golden glow intensifying between them. He moved with predatory grace as if drawn by an invisible thread, his eyes never leaving hers.

He took the empty chair beside her, his thigh pressing against hers beneath the table. The contact sent a jolt of pleasure through her body that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with the heat radiating from him.

“How’s your ankle?” he asked, his deep voice pitched low for her ears alone.

“Better,” she managed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Tilly’s magic worked wonders.”

His hand moved as if to touch her leg beneath the table, but he hesitated, glancing around at his assembled family. Instead, he passed her a platter of honey-drizzled pastries, his fingers brushing hers in a touch that felt deliberate. Sparks of gold danced between their hands.

“You should eat,” he murmured. “Magical recovery requires energy.”

The gentle concern in his voice contrasted with the intense way his eyes tracked her movements. Artemis found herself fascinated by this duality—the fierce protector who could also pass pastries with such care. She selected a honeycomb-topped scone, hyperaware of his attention on her.

“These look amazing,” she said, taking a bite. The pastry melted on her tongue, releasing a burst of sweetness that made her close her eyes in appreciation. When she opened them, Bartek was watching her with undisguised hunger that had nothing to do with breakfast.

The meal progressed with surprising ease, considering the circumstances. The twins peppered Artemis with questions about her fae abilities and the bakery, their curiosity boundless.

“Can you make cookies dance?” Lily asked.

“Only when I’m not paying attention,” Artemis admitted with a smile. “When I’m distracted, sometimes the pastries move on their own.”

“Especially when Uncle Bartek is around?” Jade asked innocently.

Artemis nearly choked on her tea while Mimi unsuccessfully tried to smother her laughter.

Mimi shared amusing stories about Bartek’s childhood—much to his chagrin—while Hudson observed with quiet satisfaction, occasionally contributing a dry comment that revealed where Bartek had inherited his understated humor.

“Bartek once shifted accidentally during a school play,” Mimi recounted, eyes twinkling. “He was supposed to be a tree, but ended up as a tiger cub with branches tied to his paws.”

“I was seven,” Bartek grumbled, but Artemis caught the hint of a smile he tried to hide behind his coffee cup.

“The school banned nature-themed plays after that,” Hudson added dryly. “Can’t imagine why.”

For someone who had grown up an only child after losing her parents, the boisterous family dynamic both overwhelmed and warmed Artemis. She caught herself laughing more freely than she had in years, the weight of yesterday’s attack somehow lighter in this home filled with acceptance.

“You should know,” Mimi said, leaning across the table conspiratorially, “Bartek prowled the halls all night checking the security perimeter.”

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