Page 42 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)

FORTY-TWO

A burning sensation pulled Bartek from deep sleep. His eyes snapped open in the darkness of his bedroom as pain crawled across his chest. The golden handprints where Artemis had touched him earlier pulsed with increasing intensity, searing through his shirt.

He sat up, disoriented. The digital clock on his nightstand read 2:13 AM.

His tiger spirit clawed frantically inside him, demanding release in a way he’d never experienced. Not during territorial disputes with neighboring prides. Not during his alpha challenge years ago. This went deeper, more primal.

Danger. Threat. Protect.

The single word that crystallized in his mind shocked him.

Artemis.

His heart hammered as images flooded his consciousness—Artemis laughing as she called him “Tiger Hunk.” Artemis with flour dusting her cheeks in the bakery kitchen. Artemis with her lips parted, eyes half-closed as they kissed goodnight.

These sweet recollections twisted into something dark—Artemis hurt, afraid, calling his name.

His phone vibrated. The screen illuminated with Rust’s name.

“The magical warning system around Honeycrisp Bakery just spiked off the charts,” the lion shifter said without preamble. “Council security is mobilizing, but you’re closer.”

Bartek swung his legs over the bed, already reaching for jeans. “What triggered it?”

“Unknown magical signature—multiple sources. Possible binding spell components detected.”

“Binding spell?” Fear sliced through him. “Who would?—”

“That’s what we need to find out. Officially, I should tell you to wait for backup.”

“Officially,” Bartek echoed, gripping the phone tighter.

“As your friend?” Rust’s voice dropped. “Drive fast.”

The line went dead.

Bartek yanked on clothes, his movements clumsy as his tiger pushed against his control. He’d lived his entire adult life maintaining perfect discipline—the balance between human reasoning and animal instinct that made him both an effective pride leader and successful businessman.

Now that careful equilibrium crumbled. His hands shook as he grabbed his keys from the bowl beside the door. The tiger wanted control. Wanted to run, to hunt, to fight.

Mine to protect.

The thought brought him up short. Mine? Since when did he think of Artemis as his?

Since the moment those golden handprints appeared , whispered a voice in his mind.

His phone buzzed with incoming messages.

Gloria: The twins woke crying about Aunt Artemis. What’s happening?

Aunt? His mother had never referred to any of his previous interests as family. The casual claim startled him.

Mimi: Haavi’s en route. Council security alerted. Need more pride members?

Hudson: Son, remember—in protection mode, the tiger’s strength comes from the heart, not just muscle.

His father rarely offered advice anymore, trusting Bartek’s leadership. The fact that he’d messaged now spoke volumes.

The handprints burned hotter against his skin as he slid behind the wheel of his SUV. The pain centered him, gave direction to the wild protective urge surging through his blood.

As he sped through the sleeping streets of Enchanted Falls, Bartek wrestled with the storm inside him. For years, he’d convinced himself that an alpha’s duty left no room for personal attachment. The pride came first. The business came second. His own happiness remained a distant third priority, something to consider “someday” after responsibilities were met.

Yet in mere days, Artemis had upended that careful hierarchy. The thought of her in danger tore through his defenses with terrifying ease.

I can be both , he realized as he took a corner too fast, tires squealing. A good leader and hers. The pride alpha and her protector.

The very possibility he’d denied himself for so long now seemed not only possible but necessary.

Bartek parked a block from Honeycrisp Bakery, cutting the headlights. His enhanced vision immediately picked out movement around the building—hooded figures circling with purpose, five in total. One traced luminous patterns in the air while others positioned themselves at different entry points.

He inhaled deeply, cataloging scents. The bitter, electrical tang of dark magic. Unfamiliar body odors—hired mercenaries, not locals. And beneath it all, the sweet cinnamon-vanilla-sunshine scent that belonged uniquely to Artemis, now tainted with fear.

Through the bakery window, he glimpsed her apartment upstairs. Golden light pulsed erratically. Magic.

His phone dinged with a text. Boss, I’m four minutes out —from Haavi. Thora and Artair right behind me. Council team mobilizing.