Page 10 of Claws and Effect (Paranormal Dating Agency #87)

NINE

Z yle wrapped the towel around his waist and returned to the bedroom. Holden had laid out his formal attire for the evening—a tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie in the deep crimson that signified Rubin pride colors.

“Your CFO called while you were showering,” Holden announced, not looking up from his tablet. “Something about treaty modifications that require your immediate attention.”

The reminder of business pulled Zyle back to reality. Tonight’s gala represented the culmination of months of negotiation. Tomorrow, formal documents would be signed. Within the year, he would mate with Princess Laykin Barclay to cement the alliance between their prides.

Princess Laykin Barclay, whom he had never met. Whose photograph he had never seen, thanks to the Summit’s strict privacy protocols for their royal family.

“I need everything you can find on a lioness shifter,” Zyle said, the decision crystallizing as he spoke. “Likely from a wealthy family, who might have been at a charity board meeting today. Combat trained, approximately five-three, athletic build, blonde hair, hazel eyes.”

Holden’s fingers stilled on his tablet. “Is this a security concern I should alert our team about?” His tone suggested he already suspected the answer.

“I need to know who she is.” Zyle picked up the formal shirt, the smooth cotton a stark contrast to the rough joggers he’d worn for his run. “The attack happened close to our delegation’s residence. Could be connected to someone from the Summit Pride.”

“The bears have historically opposed feline alliances,” Holden observed. “If they learned about our diplomatic mission...”

The possibility hung between them—that the ambush might have targeted someone connected to the Summit hierarchy. That the fierce lioness might be a security official or family member of the ruling pride.

Holden returned to his tablet, fingers moving rapidly across the screen. “There are several prominent lionesses in the Summit Pride who fit that general description. Several serve on their charitable boards.” He scrolled through the information. “The education foundation held a meeting this morning. Notable attendees included senior pride officials and...” He paused. “Princess Laykin Barclay served as chairwoman.”

Zyle absorbed this information with outward calm, though his tiger stirred at the mention of the princess—his arranged mate, the woman whose signature appeared alongside his on treaty documents, whose family sought alliance with the Rubin pride after generations of distance.

“Could our mystery lioness be one of their security personnel?” Zyle asked, deliberately steering away from larger implications. “Or perhaps a relative of the royal family?”

“Impossible to say without more details.” Holden continued scanning his screen. “The Summit Pride maintains strict privacy protocols, especially for their inner circle. Very few photographs exist in public databases.”

“Keep digging,” Zyle instructed, focusing on buttoning his shirt rather than the unsettling possibilities forming in his mind.

“Think this woman is someone from the family?”

“I don’t know.” The denial came automatically even as doubt crept in. How hard would it be to marry one lioness and then see the one who captivated him all the time? Could he do it?

The implications sent his tiger into a frenzy of possessive energy. Silver edged his vision again—his eyes shifting without his conscious control.

His phone rang from the bedside table—his mother’s special ringtone.

Zyle stared at the device, torn between answering and finishing dressing. Frances Rubin tolerated many things from her eldest son, but tardiness for important social functions wasn’t among them.

“You should probably get that,” Holden suggested. “Before she activates the tracking device she clearly had implanted while you were sleeping.”

With a grimace, Zyle answered. “Mother.”

“Darling, please tell me you’re dressed.” Frances’s voice crackled with energy. “The car arrives in thirty minutes, and you know how your brother loses track of time when left unsupervised.”

Zyle caught his reflection in the mirror—towel around his waist, shirt barely buttoned, and his expression betraying far more than he typically allowed. “Nearly ready.”

“Good. I’ve had the most fascinating conversation with Juliette Barclay about her daughter’s charitable work. Did you know Princess Laykin runs their entire education foundation? Apparently she’s quite accomplished—martial arts training, fluent in four languages, and Juliette assures me she’s lovely as well.”

Each detail matched what little he knew of the lioness from the road. Martial arts training explained her combat prowess. An accomplished woman of substance, not merely a political pawn.

“I look forward to meeting her,” Zyle said, surprised to find the words sincere.

“As well you should. This alliance benefits both our prides enormously.” A pause. “Is everything all right, darling? You sound distracted.”

The moment stretched before him—the opportunity to reveal what had happened, to ask if the Summit Pride had reported an attack on their princess.

Yet something held him back. The earring in the bathroom. The memory of her eyes meeting his. The private, powerful recognition that had passed between them.

“Everything’s fine. I’ll see you downstairs.”

He ended the call, turning to find Holden watching him with unconcealed interest.

“You didn’t tell her,” Holden observed.

“Tell her what? That I might have rescued my arranged mate from an ambush? That my tiger recognized her as mine before we’ve even been properly introduced?”

The admission hung in the air between them. Zyle hadn’t meant to verbalize it so plainly, but the truth had escaped before he could contain it.

“So it’s like that.” Holden’s voice softened. “When did you know?”

Zyle moved to the window, staring out at the grounds where evening shadows lengthened across manicured lawns. “The moment our eyes met. My tiger...” He struggled to find words for the primal certainty that had surged through him. “My tiger knew her.”

“What if she’s related to or works for the princess?”

“Then fate has a shitty sense of humor.” Zyle turned back to the room, resolute. “Regardless of who she is, tonight proceeds as planned. The alliance moves forward.”

Holden studied him. “But?”

“But for the first time, I’m walking into a business arrangement without being fully committed to it.” Zyle’s voice lowered. “What does that make me?”

“Human, boss.” Holden’s reply carried no judgment, only understanding. “It makes you human.”

The simple words struck deeper than expected. Human—not just alpha, not just CEO, not just the Rubin heir with generations of expectations weighing on his shoulders. A man capable of unexpected connection, of recognition beyond rational explanation.

Zyle returned to the bathroom, retrieving the emerald earring from the counter. His thumb traced the delicate gold filigree, the small stone catching light like a captured piece of forest.

Whatever tonight held, this small token would remain his secret talisman. The irony didn’t escape him. Here he stood, seeking luck from a connection to one mysterious lioness while preparing to meet another who would determine the course of his future.

Zyle slipped the earring into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, close to his heart. The weight nearly imperceptible, yet somehow anchoring.

“Time to meet my fiancée,” he murmured to his reflection. The silver had receded from his eyes, leaving them dark and determined.

Tonight, duty called—but for the first time, his tiger waited with frustration and the thought of canceling the whole event grew into a solid idea.