Page 83 of Chasing Stripes

Gloria immediately scooped both twins into her arms, backing away from the opening. “And that’s quite enough excitement for you two. Haavi, help me get them back to the pride house.”

Haavi nodded, though he looked torn between his duty to the pride’s children and his desire to join the underground expedition.

“Keep your communication charm active,” Bartek instructed him. “I want updates every fifteen minutes, and immediate alert if anything seems off at the pride house.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Haavi replied, slipping automatically into formal address under the stress of the moment. He hesitated, then added more casually, “Don’t do anything stupidly heroic without me there to witness it, okay? I have a reputation for telling the best stories at pride gatherings.”

With the twins safely on their way back to the pride house, the remaining team gathered at the entrance to the tunnel. Cool air wafted up from below, carrying the scent of old stone and something less definable—a magical residue that raised goose bumps along Artemis’s arms.

Bartek reached for her hand, his warm fingers intertwining with hers. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it” she replied, squeezing his fingers.

Rust and Thora took point as planned, descending carefully into the darkness with magical light orbs hovering above their shoulders. Artemis and Bartek followed, their connected hands providing both illumination and comfort. Artair and Kalyna brought up the rear, the bear shifter’s powerful frame barely fitting through the narrow opening.

The staircase wound downward in a tight spiral, the stone steps worn smooth from centuries of use. Ancient carvings lined the walls—symbols from various supernatural clans intermixed with more abstract magical notation. Artemis ran her free hand along the cool stone, feeling the history embedded within.

“These are founding family markings,” Kalyna observed, her knowledge of town history evident in her reverent tone. “Look—there’s the Blu family crest, right next to the original Leonid lion.”

Artemis traced her fingers over her family symbol—a honeycrisp apple bisected by a wand.

The staircase eventually opened into a wider tunnel with multiple branching paths. Rust paused, considering which direction to take.

“Any suggestions?” he asked, glancing back at Artemis and Bartek.

Artemis closed her eyes, allowing her fae senses to extend through their bond. The golden connection between them pulsed gently, then tugged slightly toward the right-hand passage.

“This way,” she said, a certainty she couldn’t explain settling into her bones.

The tunnel they selected sloped gently downward, the ceiling occasionally so low that Artair had to duck his head. Strange luminescent fungi grew in patches along the walls, providing sporadic natural lighting that cast eerie, shifting shadows. The air grew cooler, tinged with a metallic taste that coated Artemis’s tongue.

“Stop,” Thora hissed suddenly, holding up one hand. Her sabertooth shifter reflexes had spotted something the others missed—a nearly invisible thread of magic stretching across the passage at ankle height.

“Tripwire,” she explained, crouching to examine it without touching. “Magical alarm system. Very sophisticated.”

“Can you disable it?” Rust asked, his lion shifter eyes glowing faintly in the dimness.

Thora’s lips curved in a predatory smile. “Of course. But it’ll take a minute.”

SEVENTY-FOUR

While she worked, Artemis noticed a similar magical thread running along the ceiling. “There’s another one,” she pointed out.

“I see it,” Artair confirmed, his bear shifter size giving him a closer view of the ceiling. “I can handle that one.”

What followed was an unexpected display of shifter expertise. Rust spotted a third tripwire and joined the disabling efforts, his movements precise and confident. Soon, the three shifters fell into a rhythm, identifying and neutralizing magical traps with increasing efficiency.

“Got mine,” Thora announced, carefully dismantling the magic with specialized tools.

“Ceiling trap neutralized,” Artair added moments later.

“Wall trigger disabled,” Rust countered. “That makes three for me.”

“You can’t count the pressure plate as two separate traps,” Thora objected.

“It had two trigger mechanisms,” Rust insisted.

Bartek caught Artemis’s eye and rolled his own skyward in exasperation. A smile tugged at her lips despite the gravity of their situation. Even facing unknown dangers, shifter competitiveness apparently remained unchanged.

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