Page 53 of Claws and Effect (Paranormal Dating Agency #87)

FIFTY-TWO

L aykin nodded, mind racing. “Elder Griffith will support us. He’s never trusted Marcello.”

“After signing, your father announces to the assembly that you’re missing, and the formal ceremony will be delayed,” Zyle continued, his tactical mind finding the path forward. “We move your parents to safety through the secret passage from the study?—”

“How do you know about that passage?” Laykin interrupted, surprised.

The ghost of a smile touched Zyle’s lips. “Business rivals aren’t the only ones I research thoroughly, Princess.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest despite their dire circumstances. This man never ceased to surprise her.

“Marcello will come to the study,” Zyle continued. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I should be there,” Laykin insisted.

“No.” Zyle’s tone left no room for argument. “You’ll monitor from the security feed in the council room.”

The palace gates appeared ahead, guards waving them through with urgent gestures upon recognizing a Rubin vehicle. The normally vibrant courtyard stood eerily empty—the assembly had already begun.

Zyle parked beside a side entrance, coming around to help Laykin from the vehicle despite her protests. She pulled clothes from the duffle for him to put on. At least, he wouldn’t be stalking the palace with his junk hanging out.

As they moved through the service corridors, Laykin leaned more heavily against him than she wanted to admit, her strength ebbing as the adrenaline faded.

“Almost there,” Zyle murmured, his arm tightening around her waist.

Seren waited at the intersection of two corridors, her face lighting with relief at the sight of them. “Thank the gods,” she breathed, rushing forward to support Laykin’s other side. “When you didn’t arrive on schedule?—”

“We were delayed,” Laykin said dryly.

Seren’s eyes widened at the blood visible despite the trench coat. “You need?—”

“The signing first.” Laykin straightened with effort. “Are my parents in the assembly hall?”

“Yes, along with the entire council and visiting dignitaries. Marcello’s been asking about your whereabouts—claiming concern.” Seren’s expression darkened. “Slimy bastard.”

“We need Elder Griffith and one other elder from our pride,” Laykin explained their plan quickly. “And two Rubin elders.”

“Already waiting in your father’s study,” Seren confirmed, her efficiency one of the countless reasons Laykin valued her. “I had a feeling you’d want to avoid the public ceremony after the delay.”

Zyle nodded his approval. “And the covenant paperwork?”

“On the desk, awaiting signatures.” Seren’s gaze shifted between them. “But what happens after? Marcello has supporters throughout the palace guard.”

“We’ll handle Marcello.” Zyle’s voice dropped to a register that sent shivers down Laykin’s spine. “Permanently.”

The look that passed between them needed no words. Marcello’s actions had crossed every line—attacking his own family, endangering innocent lives, betraying his pride. There would be no mercy.

Elder Griffith—a silver-maned lion shifter whose wisdom had guided the pride for decades—rose from his seat as they entered the king’s study. His eyes widened at Laykin’s condition, but he said nothing, merely inclining his head in respectful acknowledgment of her strength.

“Princess. Mr. Rubin. We awaited your arrival with growing concern.”

“Circumstances required adaptation,” Laykin replied, moving to her father’s desk where the contract lay open, its ornate calligraphy spelling out the alliance that would change their prides forever.

Zyle supported her as she sat in her father’s chair, his hand never leaving her uninjured shoulder. The elders gathered around, solemn witnesses to history unfolding in this unexpected way.

With steady strokes, Laykin signed her name to the document, officially binding herself to both the covenant and to Zyle. He signed next, his powerful signature beside hers. The elders added their names as witnesses, making the document legally binding.

“It is done,” Elder Griffith declared, his voice carrying the weight of ritual. “The prides are one.”

Laykin met Zyle’s eyes, finding in them the same realization that struck her—regardless of what happened next, they were officially bound. No longer an arrangement to be fulfilled later, but a reality sealed in ink and law.

The moment broke as Seren returned with her parents, both looking confused and concerned.

“Laykin!” Her mother rushed forward, stopping short at the sight of her daughter’s blood-stained clothing. “What happened?”

“Marcello happened,” Laykin said flatly, rising from the chair with Zyle’s support. “Father, we need you to address the assembly, tell them I’m missing and the ceremony is delayed until I’m found.”

To his credit, King Leoric grasped the situation immediately. “A diversion while you’re actually safe.”

“Not exactly.” Zyle’s voice remained tight with controlled fury. “We’re setting a trap. You and the queen will leave through the secret passage with my guards.”

“And you two?” Queen Juliette looked between them, understanding dawning in her eyes.

“We end this,” Laykin said simply.

Her father straightened, every inch the king despite the fear in his eyes—not for himself, but for his daughter. “There must be another way.”

“He tried to kill your daughter,” Zyle growled. “Twice. There is no other way.”

Silence fell across the room, heavy with the weight of what came next. Finally, King Leoric nodded once. “What do you need us to do?”

The plan moved swiftly after that. Her parents departed with four of Zyle’s most trusted guards, disappearing behind a bookcase that concealed the ancient passage. The elders followed, their presence too valuable to risk in what would come.

Seren squeezed Laykin’s hand. “Be careful,” she whispered before leading her to the adjacent security office where monitors displayed every corner of the palace.

“You too,” Laykin replied, embracing her friend with her good arm. “Stay with my parents. Keep them safe if this goes sideways.”

On the monitors, they watched as King Leoric entered the grand assembly hall, his bearing grave as he approached the podium. The room fell silent at his unexpected entrance.

“My friends, allies, and honored guests,” his voice rang clear through the speakers. “I regret to inform you that my daughter, Princess Laykin, has not arrived as scheduled. Until we ascertain her whereabouts, the treaty ceremony must be postponed.”