Page 47 of Claws and Effect (Paranormal Dating Agency #87)

FORTY-SIX

I n the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom an hour later, Laykin paced while Zyle coordinated additional security measures for the upcoming council session. Even in midnight blue pajama pants, barefoot with tousled hair, he emanated authority as he spoke quietly into his phone.

The briefing with Holden had been productive but concerning—background checks on palace staff had revealed three recent hires with questionable connections, including the guard Marcello had spoken to.

“I’ve been thinking,” Zyle said when he ended his call. “What if the formal covenant isn’t the actual target?”

Laykin stopped pacing, turning to face him. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been assuming that whoever’s behind the attacks wants to prevent the alliance between our prides. But what if that’s not the end goal?” He ran a hand through his hair, his expression thoughtful. “What if stopping the agreement is just a means to something else?”

“Like what?” She moved closer, intrigued by the direction of his thoughts.

“What if the goal isn’t to keep the prides separate, but to keep them vulnerable?” Zyle’s eyes met hers, intense and focused. “Divided, each pride is strong but has vulnerabilities. Together, those weaknesses are covered by the other’s strengths. If someone wanted to target either pride—or both—they’d have a much harder time after the treaty is implemented.”

Laykin’s steps faltered as the implications crystallized. “So you think this isn’t about opposing the joining. It’s about keeping a window of opportunity open.”

“Exactly.” Zyle nodded. “And your uncle’s focus on the security protocols specifically is what concerns me most. He’s not arguing about other interests—he’s fixated on how our prides will share intelligence and defensive resources.”

A chill ran down Laykin’s spine as pieces began aligning in a disturbing new pattern. “An opportunity for what, though?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Zyle admitted. “But whatever it is, the combined security protocols would make it much more difficult.”

“You think Marcello is involved in the attacks?” The words hurt to say aloud. Despite his difficult personality, Marcello was family.

Zyle stood, crossing the room to take her hands in his. “I think his opposition isn’t just his usual pain-in-the-ass self, Laykin. There’s something more calculated happening here. His warning about ‘interested parties’ suggests he’s either involved or knows who is.”

Zyle’s thumbs traced gentle circles on the backs of her hands. “The covenant needs to be signed as soon as possible.”

Laykin nodded slowly. “I agree. Whatever Marcello or his associates are planning, the unified security protocols would make it much more difficult.”

“I’ll call Holden, have him prepare everything for an immediate signing rather than the later in the evening.” He started to pull away, but Laykin tightened her grip on his hands.

“Zyle,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For caring about me. For protecting me. For supporting me with my family. For...” She struggled to articulate the swirl of emotions in her chest. “For treating this as our problem, not just mine.”

His expression softened in a way that made her heart skip. “Because it is our problem. Whatever happens tomorrow, it’s not just you, Princess. I’m always going to be there to back you up.”

“I know.”

“We should get some rest,” he murmured, though his gaze dropped to her lips in contradiction to his words.

“Probably,” she agreed, stepping forward to close the distance between them.

The kiss began gently—a reaffirmation of their partnership in the face of tomorrow’s uncertainty. But gentleness quickly gave way to something deeper as his arms encircled her waist, drawing her flush against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through her grasp as she pulled him closer.

Each touch carried unspoken meaning—his hand on the small of her back promising protection, her fingers tracing the contours of his face pledging trust.

Laykin shivered as his lips traced a path along her jaw to the sensitive spot below her ear. “So much for sleep,” she whispered, earning a low chuckle that vibrated against her skin.

“Some things are worth losing sleep over,” he replied, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to their bed, all thoughts of tomorrow’s council meeting temporarily banished by the heat of his gaze and the promise of his touch. For now, there was only this moment, this connection that transcended duty and politics to become something beautiful and true.