Page 25 of Claws and Effect (Paranormal Dating Agency #87)

TWENTY-FOUR

L aykin launched herself toward the nearest attacker, catching him off guard with her speed. Claws extended, she raked across his chest, blood blooming beneath golden fur. Her teeth sank into his forearm as he roared in pain, the metallic taste of copper flooding her mouth.

The other bears converged with terrifying coordination. Where she expected lumbering bulk, she found calculated precision. When she ducked beneath one swing, another was positioned to intercept. Her speed gave her momentary advantages, but their raw power threatened to overwhelm her with each passing second.

A massive paw caught her flank, sending her tumbling across forest debris. Pain exploded along her side, the impact stealing her breath. Blood—her blood—matted golden fur, but her lioness refused to surrender. She sprang back to her feet, muscles trembling with effort, eyes blazing defiance at her attackers.

Terror clawed at her throat—not of death, but of failure. Of leaving her family vulnerable, her pride unprotected, the formal covenant unsigned. Of never seeing Zyle again, never exploring what sparked between them beyond politics and duty.

She feinted left before darting right, managing to score deep gashes across one attacker’s face. The bear bellowed, staggering backward. Three more remained, closing in with murderous intent, their circle tightening with each breath.

A massive paw swung toward her throat—a killing blow she couldn’t dodge.

Twin roars shattered the forest’s silence. Two massive tigers burst from the underbrush, their orange-and-black forms streaking through dappled sunlight like avenging spirits. Their coordinated attack scattered the bears, creating chaos in the once-orderly ambush.

Zyle’s security detail. The ones she hadn’t been told about, but had suspected, followed her daily routine.

Seizing the opportunity, Laykin gathered her remaining strength and launched herself at the nearest bear—a massive specimen with a distinctive scar across his muzzle. His attention divided between her and the tigers, he reacted a crucial second too late.

Her jaws locked around his throat, primal instinct guiding her grip to apply exactly the right pressure. She tasted fur, sweat, and the metallic tang of blood.

Victory came with a price. The dying bear’s claws caught her in one final, desperate swipe, tearing through golden fur into the flesh beneath. White-hot agony exploded through her body, stealing her breath and clouding her vision. Blood—her blood—splattered across fallen leaves in crimson droplets.

Despite the pain threatening to drag her into darkness, Laykin maintained her grip until the bear’s struggles ceased. Only when he went completely limp did she release, staggering sideways as blood soaked her fur and weakness invaded her limbs.

Through pain-hazed vision, she saw the tigers finish their work with military precision. Three bears lay motionless on blood-soaked ground. The fourth—the one whose throat she’d nearly crushed—remained barely alive, restrained by one tiger while the other shifted to human form.

“Princess,” the guard gasped, eyes widening at her injuries. He stripped off his shirt, pressing it against the worst wound in her side. “You need to shift back so we can treat you properly. We need to get you to medical immediately.”

Pain clouded her thoughts, but Laykin forced herself through the transformation, gritting her teeth as human skin replaced fur, making the wounds feel even more raw and exposed without the protection of her lioness form.

“Alpha Rubin will have our heads,” the guard muttered, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. “Where are your people? You weren’t supposed to leave the building alone, Princess.”

Through waves of pain, Laykin noticed distinctive tattoos on the captured bear’s forearm—ancient markings that resembled Northern Territories bear clan symbols, but with subtle differences her trained eye couldn’t miss. Something about them seemed wrong, modified.

“Who sent you?” she demanded of the bear, voice ragged with pain.

The shifter’s eyes burned with hatred, but he remained stubbornly silent.

The second tiger maintained his animal form, standing protectively over Laykin while the human guard spoke urgently into a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. Within minutes, the compound erupted into activity—security teams swarming the forest, medical staff rushing toward their position with emergency equipment.

As darkness crept into the edges of her vision, Laykin’s final coherent thought was that Zyle would be absolutely insufferable about being right.