Page 46 of Claws and Effect (Paranormal Dating Agency #87)

FORTY-FIVE

T he remainder of the evening passed in comfortable conversation with Seren regaling them with stories from the Summit social scene and Zyle discussing conservation projects that piqued the king’s interest. By the time they said their good-byes, midnight approached, and the earlier tension had dissipated into a warm glow of familial connection.

“Come again soon,” Queen Juliette insisted, embracing Laykin tightly. “And bring this young man before he forgets what his future mother-in-law looks like.”

“Mother,” Laykin protested, but couldn’t suppress her smile at the implication.

“You’ve made quite an impression,” she told Zyle as their car pulled away from the palace gates, security detail following at a discreet distance. “My father doesn’t discuss forestry initiatives with just anyone.”

“I liked them,” Zyle admitted, surprising her with his candor. “Your mother reminds me of mine—that same core of steel beneath the social graces.”

The comparison warmed her heart in unexpected ways. Their families, once separate dynasties, were beginning to intertwine in more than just political alliance.

“Your uncle seems unusually focused on security aspects,” Zyle observed as their car wound down the mountain road, darkness swallowing the valley below. “Not cultural, social, or financial worries—specifically how the covenant affects defensive capabilities and intelligence sharing.”

Laykin nodded, relieved to voice her suspicions aloud. “He’s always been paranoid about security, but you’re right—tonight felt different. More... tactical in his objections.”

“And that interaction with the guard?” Zyle prompted, his gaze steady on her face.

“Could be nothing,” Laykin admitted, staring out at the shadowed landscape. “Marcello loves to throw his weight around with the staff. But combined with everything else...”

“We’ll have Holden investigate the guard,” Zyle decided, pulling out his phone to text his security chief. “And increase security for the council meeting.”

The dashboard clock read nearly midnight—far too late for strategic planning, yet Laykin’s mind raced through possibilities, each more troubling than the last. The warmth of the evening with her family gave way to cold reality as they discussed the potential threat lurking beneath Marcello’s opposition.

The lights of Zyle’s estate appeared in the distance, a welcome sight after the long drive and longer evening. The security gate opened automatically as they approached, closing silently behind them once the entire convoy had entered. The sense of stepping into a fortress should have been oppressive, but instead, Laykin felt herself relaxing. This had become home with surprising speed.

“Holden will be waiting for an update,” Zyle said as they entered the main house. “Do you want to join the briefing, or would you prefer to get some rest?”

“As if I could sleep with this hanging over us,” she replied, following him toward his study. Rest could wait. The safety of their prides couldn’t.