Page 60 of Chasing Stripes

The vehemence in his voice surprised her. Artemis placed a calming hand on his chest, directly over where she knew her handprints marked him. “It’s okay. I want answers too.”

The effect was immediate—the tension drained from his shoulders, his breathing slowed. Haavi watched this interaction.

“Fascinating.”

“What do you mean?” Artemis asked.

“Tiger alphas are notoriously stubborn once they’ve made a decision. You just changed his mind with a touch.”

“I did not—” Bartek began, then stopped as he realized the truth in Haavi’s words. He looked down at Artemis with a mixture of shock and wonder as if seeing her influence on him for the first time.

“This is going to be so entertaining to watch,” Haavi grinned, backing away with his hands raised in mock surrender as Bartek’s eyes narrowed. “The council chamber in one hour!”

FIFTY-TWO

“Ishould check on the bakery before we meet the council,” Artemis said as they walked back toward the house. “And I need to change into something more appropriate than jeans for a formal meeting.”

Despite obvious reluctance to let her out of his sight, Bartek agreed to drive her into town. The tension between them thickened in the enclosed space of his SUV, the handprints pulsing in tandem with each mile closer to Enchanted Falls.

“You don’t have to hover,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “I doubt anyone would try attacking in broad daylight.”

“I’m not hovering,” he responded automatically, checking the rearview mirror for the third time in a minute. “I’m being strategically aware.”

“Is that what the pride calls it when an alpha tiger circles his mate’s territory six times a night?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she immediately felt heat rush to her face.

Bartek nearly swerved the car, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “What?”

“Tilly mentioned seeing you prowling around the bakery several times before last night,” Artemis explained, suddenly self-conscious about her choice of words. “I didn’t mean to say—I mean, I know we’re not?—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to that low register that sent shivers down her spine. “It’s accurate. That’s exactly what you’re becoming, whether we’re ready to admit it or not.”

The handprints flared so intensely they illuminated the car’s interior, golden light dancing across the dashboard. Artemis’s breath caught at the certainty in his voice. In the city, she’d dated casually, never allowing anyone close enough to truly know her. Yet in less than a week, this man had somehow bypassed her carefully constructed defenses and claimed a place in her heart.

They arrived at Honeycrisp Bakery to find the “Closed for Family Emergency” sign still hanging on the door. Through the window, Artemis spotted Tilly, Kalyna, and Thora gathered around the counter, ancient tomes spread among half-finished pastries.

The bell above the door jingled as they entered. Kalyna’s head snapped up, her fox-shifter senses immediately attuned to the energy pulsing between them.

“The lovebirds return!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took in the intensified glow of their handprints.

“Those marks are twice as bright as yesterday,” Thora observed with the analytical precision of an experienced bounty hunter. “The bond is strengthening rapidly.”

Tilly rushed forward from behind the counter, wrapping Artemis in a tight hug that smelled of cinnamon and comfort. “Thank the Fae Court you’re all right! I was so worried when Bartek called about the attack.”

She pulled back to study Artemis’s face with maternal concern. “How’s the ankle? Did the healing spell hold?”

“Much better,” Artemis assured her. “Your magic worked wonders.”

“Good.” Tilly’s gaze moved between Artemis and Bartek, noting the way they unconsciously leaned toward each other. “We’ve been researching soul-tethers all morning. They’re extraordinarily rare and powerfully protective.”

She led them to the kitchen counter where the ancient books lay open. “According to these texts, the tether strengthens both partners magically. It’s like your energies amplify each other.”

“That explains why my shifting felt different,” Bartek mused, studying an illustration that resembled their handprints. “More powerful. More controlled.”

“And why my magic nearly turned the muffin batter into a sentient being this morning,” Tilly added with a rueful smile. “I was making cinnamon rolls when a residual energy spike hit. The dough started forming little arms and tried to climb out of the bowl!”

FIFTY-THREE

“The prisoner finally talked,” Thora said in a low voice to Bartek as Artemis headed upstairs to change. “They were hired by someone calling themselves ‘The Collector’—someone obsessed with gathering rare magical artifacts.”

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