Page 18 of Stripe Theory (The Matchmaker’s Book Club #8)
SEVENTEEN
R ehan shot his friend a warning look, but couldn’t fully suppress the way his tiger preened at Alora’s proximity. Her scent enveloped him, stronger now in the enclosed space, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
The first course arrived, tension easing slightly as conversation turned to more general topics. Until Alora, animated by Sierra’s questions, began explaining her latest theory.
“It’s not just attacking the genetic code—it’s rewriting it,” she explained. “That’s why the symptoms are so erratic, just like we saw in yesterday’s tests.”
Even Franklin looked up from his plate, interest briefly overriding disapproval. Sierra leaned forward eagerly, and Rehan felt a surge of pride watching Alora command attention from the entire table of shifter elites.
But his father wouldn’t let her expertise go unchallenged. “If it’s rewriting genetic markers,” Franklin pressed, “wouldn’t that destabilize the entire shifter genome over time?”
Alora didn’t miss a beat. “Only if the virus isn’t contained. That’s why early intervention is critical.” Her confidence made Rehan’s tiger rumble with approval.
“The implications for generational shifting—” Franklin began, his tone growing sharp.
“Are precisely why Dr. Sky’s approach is so vital,” Rehan cut in smoothly, letting a hint of warning enter his voice. His protective instincts, already heightened from their growing connection in the lab, flared stronger.
His mother’s subtle nod suggested she caught both the interruption and its meaning. Jewel had been watching Alora all evening with the careful assessment that had made her such a formidable force in pride politics.
Later, as servers cleared the main course, Jewel drew Alora aside. Rehan pretended to focus on his conversation with Hunter while his enhanced hearing tracked every word.
“You’ve given us hope, Dr. Sky,” his mother said softly. “For Sierra and for the pride. Your unconventional methods seem to be exactly what we need.”
“I’m just doing what I love,” Alora replied, her sincerity evident in every word. “Helping people—shifter or human—is the goal.”
Something in Rehan’s chest tightened at her words. He’d seen that same genuine desire to help in the lab, even when her methods gave him heart palpitations. The memory of her standing fearless in smoke, excited about the data even as alarms blared, tugged at corners of his control.
His mother caught his eye across the room, her knowing look suggesting she saw more than he’d like. The slight softening of her expression toward Alora echoed his own journey from skepticism to... whatever this growing awareness was becoming.
“Perhaps,” he said, cutting through the post-dinner conversations, “Dr. Sky would like to see the private lab facilities?”
The way Alora’s face lit up at the suggestion made his tiger purr. He led her through the mansion’s corridors, hyperaware of her presence at his side, until they reached his sanctuary.
The lab gleamed under pristine lighting, every surface spotless, every instrument precisely placed—the opposite of Alora’s controlled chaos. Yet watching her explore the space, running her fingers reverently over state-of-the-art equipment, Rehan found himself appreciating both environments for what they represented.
“This is incredible,” she murmured, eyes wide as she took in the advanced technology. Her hand traced along a sleek counter edge. “You could change the world with this setup.”
“We’re trying to.” The words slipped out softer than intended. He cleared his throat. “The microscope has some unique modifications for studying shifter cellular structures.”
She gravitated toward it immediately, professional excitement overtaking her earlier awe. “The resolution must be amazing. Can we examine some samples under this?”
He retrieved the samples, loving her proximity as they both leaned over the microscope. The moment their hands brushed, reaching for the focus dial simultaneously, electricity jolted through him. His tiger growled low in his mind, the sound nearly escaping his throat.
Rehan stiffened, fighting the surge of primal awareness. Every instinct screamed to pull her closer, to claim what his tiger had already decided was theirs. But she was human. His research partner. Brilliant and necessary and completely off-limits.
Alora seemed oblivious to his internal struggle, happily adjusting magnification settings. “Look at how clearly you can see the protein structures. The way they’re mutating... it’s fascinating.”
Her enthusiasm should have been professional. Clinical. Instead, her voice sent shivers down his spine, her scent filling his lungs with every breath. The dim lab lighting caught golden highlights in her hair, and his fingers itched to discover if it felt as soft as it looked.
Focus, he commanded himself. But his tiger had other ideas, replaying moments from their growing connection—her fearless laughter during lab accidents, her fierce defense of her theories, the way she’d stood up to his father at dinner. Each memory chipped away at his carefully maintained control.
“The viral progression is clearer at this magnitude,” she continued, completely focused on the science while he focused on not dragging her into his arms. “See how the markers cluster here? That could explain the irregular symptom patterns Sierra described.”
The mention of his sister helped ground him. This was why they worked together—to find answers, to protect their families. Not to indulge whatever this dangerous attraction was becoming.
But as she straightened from the microscope, eyes bright with discovery, Rehan knew he was fighting a losing battle. His tiger had recognized something in her from that first chaotic meeting in her lab, and each interaction only strengthened the connection.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her smile genuine enough to make his chest ache. “For trusting my ideas. For giving me a chance to help.”