Page 20 of Chasing Stripes

The moment he left, the overhead lights stabilized, the pastries stopped their levitation attempts, and the air in the bakery seemed to lighten. Yet Artemis’s skin still tingled where Bartek’s gaze had lingered, and the prints on her waist maintained their golden shimmer.

“Hooooly smokes,” Kalyna breathed, collapsing dramatically onto a nearby chair. “I thought Rust and I had chemistry when we first met, but you two could power the entire electrical grid of Enchanted Falls.”

“Indeed,” Tilly agreed, retrieving Bartek’s empty mug with a knowing smile. “I’m surprised the counter didn’t spontaneously combust when he looked at you.”

“Both of you, stop,” Artemis begged, though without much conviction. She pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks, trying to cool the heat there. “This is crazy. I barely know him.”

“Honey,” Tilly fixed her with a sympathetic look, “some connections transcend conventional timelines. Your grandfather proposed to your grandmother twenty minutes after they met.”

“That’s family legend. It can’t possibly be true.”

“I was there,” Tilly insisted. “Watched the whole thing. Your grandmother turned him down, of course—made him court her properly for three whole weeks before she said yes.”

“Three weeks is still insane,” Artemis protested.

“Not in magical terms,” Kalyna interjected. “Supernatural beings—especially shifters—recognize compatible mates differently than humans. The signs are usually quite clear.” She gestured to Artemis’s glowing waist. “Exhibit A.”

“But cross-species?” Artemis shook her head. “A tiger shifter and a fae? That’s practically unheard of.”

“Rare, not impossible,” Tilly corrected. “And often the most powerful bonds are the unexpected ones. Different magical energies creating something greater than the sum of their parts.”

Artemis sank onto a chair, suddenly overwhelmed. Everything was happening too fast—her return to Enchanted Falls, the bakery renovation plans, and now this inexplicable connection to a man she’d barely exchanged fifty words with. Yet her body hummed with awareness that couldn’t be dismissed as mere attraction.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked quietly.

Kalyna and Tilly exchanged glances.

“For now?” Tilly patted her hand gently. “Breathe. Process. There’s no rulebook for this sort of thing.”

“And maybe,” Kalyna added with a mischievous grin, “wear something that shows off those magical handprints to tomorrow’s council meeting. You know, for science.”

Despite herself, Artemis laughed. The sound broke some of the tension coiled inside her. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m practical,” Kalyna corrected. “And I know an opportunity when I see one. That tiger is interested, Artemis. Very interested.”

“How can you tell?”

“Besides the obvious?” Kalyna rolled her eyes. “His scent changed when he looked at you. Became more... potent. Territorial, almost. Shifters can smell these things.”

“Great,” Artemis groaned. “So the whole supernatural community will know about whatever this is before I figure it out myself.”

“Welcome back to small-town life,” Tilly said cheerfully. “Where everyone knows your business before you do!”

Artemis shook her head, but couldn’t suppress a smile. For all its complications and gossip, Enchanted Falls already felt more like home than the city ever had. Here, at least, she could be herself—magical mishaps, mysterious connections, and all.

As she locked up the bakery that evening, she found herself repeatedly glancing across the street at Tooth & Claw, watching the tall figure of its owner move about inside... well, that was nobody’s business but her own.

Tomorrow would bring the council meeting—and another encounter with Bartek Arbor. The thought sent equal measures of anticipation and trepidation coursing through her veins.

Whatever was happening between them, it was far from over. In fact, Artemis suspected it had only just begun.

EIGHTEEN

Artemis whisked the cinnamon roll batter with unnecessary force, spattering tiny droplets across the pristine countertop of Honeycrisp Bakery’s kitchen. Dawn light streamed through the east-facing windows, painting everything in honey-gold warmth that completely failed to match her scattered mood.

“Focus on the missing book, not the tiger,” she muttered to herself, reaching for the vanilla extract. Her fingers brushed against the bottle and it tipped over without her touching it, pouring three times the required amount into her mixture.

“Oh, for fae’s sake!”

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