Page 36 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)
THIRTY-SIX
A rtemis found herself sharing stories about her childhood in Enchanted Falls, her years in the city, and her decision to return home to help Aunt Tilly with the bakery. Gloria and Mimi listened attentively, asking questions and sharing their own anecdotes, creating an atmosphere of genuine camaraderie.
By the time they carried dishes to the dining room, Artemis felt as though she’d known them for years rather than hours.
The massive oak table had been set with obvious care—fine china, polished silver, crystal glasses that caught the light from overhead. Gloria had “accidentally” arranged seating that placed Artemis next to Bartek, their chairs noticeably closer together than the others.
A stocky, elderly man was already seated at one end, his posture ramrod straight, white hair swept back from a stern face. He studied Artemis with undisguised curiosity as she entered.
“Uncle Darius,” Bartek greeted him, a note of wariness in his voice. “This is Artemis Blu.”
“The fae baker,” Darius said, his tone neutral but his expression calculating. “Interesting choice for festival collaboration.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Bartek’s posture changed instantly—shoulders squaring, stance widening as he positioned himself slightly in front of Artemis. When he spoke, his voice carried a deeper timbre, eyes flashing amber.
“Artemis is not just any baker,” he corrected with steel in his tone. “She’s an essential partner for the festival... and perhaps beyond.”
The possessive declaration sent a thrill through Artemis. When his hand found the small of her back again, the handprints beneath her dress glowed so brightly they were visible through the fabric.
Darius’s eyes narrowed at the display, but before he could respond, the front door opened and Haavi strode in, looking harried but cheerful.
“Sorry I’m late,” he called, shrugging out of his jacket. “Supplier delivered wolf-friendly beer instead of the all-species blend. Nearly had a revolt on our hands.” He spotted Artemis and grinned. “Ah, the famous baker! Your cinnamon rolls saved my morning meeting.”
The tension broke as Gloria ushered everyone to their seats and Hudson began carving a succulent roast. Conversation flowed around mundane topics—the upcoming festival, pride business, the twins’ latest schoolyard adventures.
Throughout the meal, Bartek’s behavior shifted—the reserved, professional demeanor melting away in his family environment. He served Artemis the choicest portions, refilled her glass before she asked, and found increasingly transparent excuses to touch her—adjusting her napkin, brushing away imaginary crumbs, his fingers lingering each time.
Under the table, their knees touched. The contact sent a surge of magic through Artemis, causing the silverware to momentarily lift and dance above the plates.
“Whoops,” she whispered, blushing as she regained control.
“I like it,” Bartek murmured back, his voice for her ears only. “Your magic is responding to me.”
Each small touch, each private exchange, built something new between them—a language of shared glances and subtle smiles that felt more intimate than any words.
When dessert arrived—a rich chocolate torte that Gloria proudly announced she’d picked up from Honeycrisp that morning—Darius cleared his throat.
“Tell me, Ms. Blu, what exactly are your intentions toward our pride’s alpha?”
Mimi choked on her wine. “Uncle Darius!”
“It’s a valid question,” the old tiger defended. “An alpha’s mate affects the entire pride.”
“We’re not—” Artemis began, but Darius waved her off.
“Those marks on your waist tell a different story, young lady. Magical claim-marks are rare, even among established pairs.”
Artemis felt heat rush to her face, aware of all eyes on her. “We’re still getting to know each other,” she answered carefully. “But I respect your pride’s traditions and Bartek’s position within it.”
“A diplomatic answer,” Darius noted, not unkindly. “But pride leadership requires more than diplomacy. It demands strength, loyalty, understanding of our ways.”
“Uncle,” Bartek’s voice held warning.