Page 55 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)

FIFTY-FIVE

S omething in her tone made Artemis suspect there was more to the story. She exchanged glances with Bartek, seeing the same skepticism reflected in his eyes. His hand tightened slightly on her waist in silent communication.

“What’s required of us?” Bartek asked directly, his patience clearly waning.

“The soul-tether must be registered in the official records,” Tygra explained. “And in light of recent events, we recommend accelerating its stabilization.”

“Meaning?” Artemis questioned, though she already suspected their answer from the way several elders’ eyes kept dropping to where Bartek’s hand rested possessively on her waist.

“Prolonged physical proximity,” Willow Waters supplied with remarkable straightforwardness. “You need constant reinforcement in their early stages especially in cases of cross-species bonding.”

“We’re officially recommending you reside together until the bond stabilizes,” Rust stated, trying to maintain his mayoral formality despite the personal nature of the directive.

Bartek tensed beside her, clearly torn between his private desires and public decorum. Artemis could sense his conflicted emotions through their bond—wanting her close but resenting the council’s interference in their personal lives.

“For security purposes,” Tygra added helpfully.

“And magical stability,” Lysander chimed in.

“It’s purely scientific,” Willow assured them, though her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“We would like to study the bond, if you’re willing,” said Selene, leaning forward with scholarly interest. “Soul-tethers are documented in our oldest texts, but direct observation would be invaluable.”

“And what of the attacks?” Bartek pressed, unwilling to be distracted from the threat. “The binding attempt and the stolen recipe book clearly indicate an organized effort targeting Artemis specifically.”

Rust nodded gravely. “We’ve doubled patrols throughout the town. The captured assailant is being questioned further, though they claim to know little about their employer.”

“The use of binding magic is particularly troubling,” Selene added. “Such spells were banned centuries ago for their invasive nature. Someone with both the knowledge and willingness to employ them is dangerous indeed.”

Artemis felt a surge of rebelliousness at their transparent matchmaking, but also couldn’t deny the appeal of the suggestion. The thought of being separated from Bartek made the handprints throb with warning heat.

“We’ll consider your recommendation,” she replied diplomatically, feeling Bartek relax slightly beside her at her failure to outright refuse.

The council proceeded to question them about the specifics of their bond—when the handprints appeared, how the connection felt, what magical effects they’d noticed. Artemis described the constant awareness of Bartek’s location while he explained the enhanced shifting abilities he’d experienced during the attack.

“Fascinating,” murmured Lysander, scribbling notes. “The amplification effect is precisely as the ancient texts described.”

As the meeting wound down, Selene Moonlace gestured for Artemis to approach her throne.

“Your parents would be proud,” the fae elder said quietly, her ancient eyes kind but knowing. “They understood the value of cross-species bonds. Your mother’s personal journals speak of it.”

Artemis froze. “You’ve read my mother’s journals?”

“They’re in the council archives,” Selene explained. “She documented her research on magical connections like yours. Perhaps it’s time you read them yourself.”

Before Artemis could ask more questions, Rust called the meeting to a close, promising to keep them informed of any developments regarding the attacks.

“Wait,” Artemis said, “what about Thaddeus? Have you found out anything?”

Selene turned to them. “We are still investigating, but we have not found anything disturbing or unnatural concerning him.”

“What about my family’s recipe book?” Artemis pressed.

Selene pressed her lips into a thin line, which looked more like frustration than anything else. “He’s been out of town quite a bit, but he’s not given us reason to search his home. We cannot act without solid proof.”

Tyrga raised a hand and pointed a finger at Bartek. “If we find out that you or anyone from the pride takes matters into your own hands behind the council’s back, there will be repercussions. Let the law take its rightful course.”

As the council members filed out, many cast curious glances at the golden patterns now visible on both Artemis and Bartek’s skin.

Outside the chambers, they found themselves surrounded by well-meaning friends, all eager to offer opinions on their situation.

Kalyna bounced with excitement, her fox energy hardly contained in human form. “This is the most interesting magical development since Rust accidentally turned the town fountain into chocolate during our mating ceremony!”

“You can stay at the pride house,” Haavi suggested to Artemis. “Gloria’s already redecorating the guest room with fae-friendly touches.”

“Or Bartek could move into your apartment above the bakery,” Tilly countered. “Though it might be a tight squeeze for someone his size.”

“I haven’t agreed to this yet,” Artemis protested weakly, though the handprints warmed pleasantly at the thought of continuous proximity to Bartek.

“Haven’t you?” Thora raised an eyebrow, pointedly looking at their glowing marks that had spread considerably since that morning. “Because your magic seems pretty decided.”

“The pride house makes the most sense,” Bartek stated decisively. “Better security, more space.”

“Always the practical alpha,” Haavi teased. “Nothing to do with having her in your territory, I’m sure.”

Bartek’s growl only made everyone laugh.

“We should discuss this privately,” Artemis suggested, overwhelmed by the well-intentioned meddling.

“Excellent idea,” Rust agreed, his mayoral authority parting the crowd. “But decide quickly. The soul-tether’s energy signature is highly distinctive—if our enemies are tracking magical signatures, you’re essentially a glowing beacon.”

The sobering reminder of danger tempered the group’s good humor.