Page 13 of Chasing Stripes

She began whisking, working butter into the flour with practiced motions. More sparks erupted with each turn of her wrist, growing larger and more frequent. The wooden spoon grew warm beneath her fingers, humming with magical energy that traveled up her arms in pleasant waves.

“That’s... unusual,” she murmured, her brow furrowing.

The mixture glowed softly, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. A faint vibration traveled through the bowl into the countertop, making the measuring cups dance slightly.

Artemis hesitated, instincts warning of instability. The spell-enhanced recipes she’d created in the city had never reacted this vigorously. Perhaps the wild pollen combined with Enchanted Falls’s ambient magic created a more powerful reaction than she’d anticipated.

Should she start over?

The practical baker part of her brain screamed yes, but another part—the part that had always loved the unpredictable nature of magical experimentation—pushed her forward. Besides, she’d invested the last of her precious cinnamon in this batch.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she decided, reaching for the vanilla extract.

Three drops fell into the bowl.

The reaction happened instantly.

A sharp crack split the air like magical lightning. The batter bubbled and expanded, doubling in size within seconds. Before Artemis could step back, the bowl erupted in a spectacular puff of enchanted flour and sugar.

“Oh crap!” she yelped, staggering backward.

A swirling vortex of powdered ingredients engulfed the kitchen. Utensils rattled across countertops, metal measuring spoons clinked against each other like wind chimes in a hurricane. Muffin liners took flight, dancing through the air like wayward butterflies. At the center of it all, the mixing bowl spun madly, spewing sparkles and flour in equal measure.

Artemis coughed, waving her hands to clear the sugary cloud. The magic had gone rogue, feeding on itself in a cascading reaction. She needed to contain it before?—

The fire alarm shrieked, its high-pitched wail adding to the chaos.

“For fae’s sake!” Artemis shouted, lunging toward the spinning bowl.

Her foot slipped on spilled flour. She pitched forward, arms windmilling as her center of gravity shifted treacherously?—

The kitchen door burst open with a tremendous bang that somehow cut through the cacophony.

Through the swirling haze stepped a silhouette that made Artemis’s breath catch. Tall and powerful, moving with the fluid grace of a predator, the figure parted the flour cloud like a ship cleaving through fog. Golden-brown eyes, now flashing with hints of amber, locked onto her with laser-like intensity.

Bartek Arbor.

In person. Up close.

Not just glimpsed across the street or through a window.

Here.

Time slowed to a crystalline crawl as he moved toward her. Three long strides closed the distance between them. Strong hands shot out, gripping her waist to steady her. The moment his skin made contact with hers, even through the fabric of her apron, everything changed.

TWELVE

An electric current surged through Artemis’s body, hot and wild and utterly foreign. Her skin prickled with awareness, every nerve ending suddenly, almost painfully alive. Heat blossomed where his hands gripped her waist, spreading outward in waves that made her knees weaken and her breath stutter.

“Steady,” he murmured, his voice deeper than she’d imagined, the single word rumbling from his chest.

Artemis gasped, her hazel eyes widening as they met his. The golden flecks in his irises brightened, shifting toward amber—a tiger’s eyes peering from a human face. A low rumble vibrated from his chest, the sound triggering something primal and unexpected within her.

The chaotic whirlwind of flour and magic dimmed to background noise. Particles of sugar dust hung suspended around them, sparkling like frozen stars. For one breathless moment, nothing existed beyond the connection between them—raw, primal, undeniable.

His scent enveloped her: cedar and spice, mountain air and something distinctlyalpha. Not cologne, but his natural essence, somehow both wild and controlled. Artemis had dated other supernatural beings—a water sprite in college, a half-elf photographer in the city—but none had affected her like this. Her fae magic responded unbidden, reaching toward him like a flower stretching toward sunlight.

A hot flush crept up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. Her heart pounded against her ribs in an unfamiliar rhythm, matching some silent beat she hadn’t known existed until now. Their faces hovered inches apart, his breath warm against her skin.

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