Page 14 of Claws and Effect (Paranormal Dating Agency #87)

THIRTEEN

L aykin jumped at Zyle’s voice, quickly tucking the heel back into her clutch. He stood in the archway, his powerful frame silhouetted against the light from the ballroom, radiating protective energy. How did someone so large move so silently?

“Spying on your future mate already?” she asked, gathering her composure.

“Protecting,” he corrected, stepping into the alcove. The space immediately seemed smaller, more intimate. “There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” She arched an eyebrow, fighting the urge to move closer to him. “And what exactly are you protecting me from?”

“Anyone who wishes you harm.” His expression turned serious. “The attack today wasn’t random, Laykin. Someone specifically targeted you—and they may try again.”

The use of her first name without titles or formalities created an intimacy that made her pulse quicken. “Why would anyone want to stop this treaty badly enough to risk attacking a royal?”

“That’s what we need to discover.” Zyle reached into his inner pocket and withdrew a small object that caught the light— an emerald earring. Her emerald earring, the match to the one she’d worn earlier in the day.

“I believe this belongs to you,” he said, extending it toward her on his open palm. “You lost it during your impressive display of combat skills earlier today.”

Laykin accepted the jewelry, her fingers brushing his palm. The brief contact sent sparks racing up her arm. “You kept it.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

The question hung between them, laden with implications. Zyle’s expression remained carefully controlled, but something heated flickered in his eyes.

“It carried your scent,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a rumble that she felt rather than heard. “My tiger wouldn’t let me leave it behind.”

The raw honesty in his voice caught her off guard. Her lioness preened at the confession—at the evidence that his animal recognized hers just as surely as hers had recognized his.

Heat pooled in Laykin’s core. Her lioness clawed desperately beneath her skin, demanding she close the remaining distance between them.

“I’m not a possession to be claimed,” she whispered even as her body betrayed her with its response to his proximity.

“No,” he agreed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek with surprising gentleness. “You’re a partner to be cherished. A queen to be honored. A mate to be protected.” His thumb traced her lower lip, sending electricity racing through her nervous system. “And if you’ll let me, I’d like to start proving that to you. Tonight.”

The promise in his words made her knees weak. This wasn’t the cold political arrangement she’d dreaded. This was fire, need, and primal recognition—everything her lioness had ever wanted and everything her human heart had feared she’d never find.

“We should return to the ball,” she said finally, though every part of her wanted to stay in this moment.

“We should.” Zyle didn’t move away. Instead, his hand slipped to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. “But first...”

He leaned down slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away. Laykin remained still, captivated by the intensity in his silver-rimmed eyes. When his lips finally met hers, the contact was gentle, questioning—a stark contrast to the powerful alpha who had commanded the room all evening.

The kiss deepened as Laykin responded, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his jacket. Her lioness purred in satisfaction as Zyle pulled her closer, his controlled restraint giving way to something hungrier, more desperate.

When they finally came apart, Zyle rested his forehead against hers. “Tell me you felt that,” he murmured.

“I felt it,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. “But?—”

“No buts.” He captured her hand, pressing it against his chest where his heart thundered beneath her palm. “This isn’t politics or paperwork, Princess. This is fate.”

Laykin allowed herself to believe him, just for a moment. That somehow, in the midst of duty and arrangement and political necessity, she had accidentally stumbled upon something real. Something wild and precious and unexpected.

“We should really return to the ball,” she said again, reluctantly stepping back from his embrace.

Zyle offered his arm. “After you, Princess.”

As they rejoined the glittering crowd, Laykin tucked the recovered earring safely into her clutch alongside the mysterious heel. Both were tangible reminders of the day’s strange events— and of the enigmatic man now escorting her through a room full of political allies and potential enemies.

Her arranged mate was her mysterious rescuer. The diplomatic treaty now carried entirely new dimensions. And somewhere in this elegant ballroom, hidden behind smiles and formal attire, lurked threats she was only beginning to understand.

For the first time since learning of her arranged mating, Laykin felt something beyond resignation. Her future might be bound by duty, but it suddenly promised something far more intriguing than she’d ever dared hope—a mate who made her lioness roar with recognition and her heart race with possibility.

As if reading her thoughts, Zyle’s hand tightened possessively around hers, his eyes promising protection, passion, and a future neither of them had expected when the treaty was first proposed.