Page 47 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)
FORTY-SEVEN
S unlight spilled through unfamiliar curtains, painting golden streaks across Artemis’s face. She blinked awake, momentarily disoriented by the high ceiling and rustic wood beams above her. This wasn’t her apartment over the bakery.
The memories from last night filtered back slowly—the shadowy figures, her ankle twisting as she ran, Bartek appearing out of nowhere, his body shifting into a massive tiger before her eyes. Then the revelation about soul-tethers that had turned her world upside down.
How is this my life now? she wondered, pushing herself up against plush pillows.
Just days ago she’d been worried about perfecting her honey-lavender scone recipe, and now she was waking up in the home of the town’s alpha tiger with magical handprints on her waist.
She traced the outline of the marks with her fingertips. They responded with a soft glow, sending a pleasant warmth through her body and tugging her awareness toward the eastern wing of the house. Bartek was there—she could sense him as clearly as if she could see through walls.
“What is happening to me?” she whispered to the empty room.
She took in the guest bedroom of the pride house with fresh eyes. Rather than the intimidating tiger’s den she might have expected, the room exuded comfort. Subtle tiger motifs decorated the space tastefully—a painting of a jungle scene, throw pillows with amber and black stripes, and a small collection of framed family photos that spoke of history and belonging.
A framed photo on the nightstand caught her eye—a younger Bartek in hiking gear, arm slung around his father’s shoulders, both grinning at the summit of some distant peak. His smile transformed his entire face, softening the sharp angles she’d grown accustomed to. She picked up the frame, studying the unguarded joy captured there.
“I wonder how often you smile like that now,” she murmured, running her thumb across the image.
She tested her injured ankle, rotating it carefully. The throbbing had subsided to a dull ache, Tilly’s healing magic working through the night. The bruises had faded to pale yellow shadows.
A soft knock interrupted her inspection. The door creaked open to reveal Gloria, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a loose bun, carrying a tray laden with a steaming teapot and freshly baked muffins. The older woman’s eyes sparkled with unmistakable motherly concern.
“You’re awake! I hoped you might be.” Gloria entered with the confident grace of a woman accustomed to managing a household. She set the tray on the bedside table, her gaze flicking between the photo and Artemis with undisguised interest. “That was taken five years ago before Hudson stepped down as alpha. One of the last carefree days before Bartek took on full leadership.”
Artemis set the frame down, feeling oddly guilty for the intrusion. “He looks happy.”
“He was. He could be again.” Gloria poured amber tea into a delicate cup painted with tiger lilies. The tea released a fragrant steam that reminded Artemis of mountain herbs. “The twins have been up since dawn desperate to see if you’re okay. They’re calling you ‘Aunt Artemis’ now—I hope that’s not too presumptuous.”
A surprising warmth bloomed in Artemis’s chest at the immediate acceptance. “That’s sweet of them.”
Gloria’s gaze dropped to Artemis’s waist where the handprints glowed visibly through the thin fabric. “They’re brighter this morning. The soul-tether strengthens.”
Artemis felt her cheeks warm as she remembered how the handprints had appeared—Bartek’s strong hands gripping her waist protectively as he pulled her behind him, shielding her from danger. The memory sent a rush of heat through her that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
“But Bartek and I barely know each other,” she protested, though the steady warmth emanating from the marks contradicted her words.
“The heart recognizes what the mind hasn’t yet accepted,” Gloria said simply. “The magic merely makes visible what already exists.”
Artemis considered this, watching the steam curl from her cup. If what Gloria said was true, her soul had recognized something in Bartek worth binding itself to—something beyond his protective streak or the undeniable physical attraction. The thought should have terrified her. Instead, she found herself strangely comforted.
“The tea will help restore your magical reserves,” Gloria said, rising gracefully.
“Thank you,” Artemis said, touched by the thoughtfulness. “I should get back to the bakery soon. Tilly must be worried.”
“Tilly called earlier. She insists you take the day to recover.” Gloria paused at the door. “She also mentioned something about sentient muffin batter taking over the kitchen? Apparently, residual energy from your soul-tether affected her baking spells.”
Artemis nearly choked on her tea. “Oh no.”
“Don’t worry. She sounded more fascinated than upset.” Gloria’s eyes twinkled. “Breakfast will be ready whenever you are. Take your time.”
After Gloria departed, Artemis slipped into the adjoining bathroom, marveling at its size—clearly designed for people who occasionally needed space for a tiger form.
The shower would have put her apartment’s trickle to shame. Hot water pounded from multiple directions, easing the lingering soreness from last night’s attack.
As she dressed, she caught sight of the handprints in the mirror—perfect golden impressions of large hands spanning her waist, the fingers nearly meeting at her navel. Unlike a bruise or injury, they emitted a pleasant warmth, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
She traced their outline, marveling at how perfectly they matched the shape of Bartek’s hands. Had some part of her known, even that first day in the bakery when he steadied her from falling? Had her magic recognized his before her conscious mind caught up?