Page 32 of Stripe Theory (The Matchmaker’s Book Club #8)
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T he pride leaders had responded quickly to his alert. The primary gathering room now buzzed with tense energy as shifters arrived through various security checkpoints.
Maya’s security analysis painted a disturbing picture. “The attack patterns suggest intimate knowledge of our protocols,” she explained, indicating mapped breach points. “They knew exactly when to hit and where we’d be vulnerable.”
“A leak?” Councilman Williams frowned. “Impossible. Our security?—”
“Got compromised somehow,” Hunter cut in, tapping his tablet. “Look at these access logs. Someone’s been making copies of restricted files at odd hours.”
Rehan leaned forward, studying the data. His tiger’s instincts prickled – there was something here, something they were missing...
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Alora stood in the doorway, her expression lighting up with that particular enthusiasm that meant she’d made a breakthrough. His tiger perked up instantly, responding to her excitement even before she spoke.
“The virus acceleration,” she said, moving to the display screen. “I’ve mapped the pattern from Sierra’s data against environmental factors. Look at the spike during the attack – it’s not just stress triggering it. The virus is actually responding to shifter biochemistry, using the fight-or-flight response to boost its own reproduction rate.”
She reached past him to adjust the display, her hand brushing his arm. The contact sent electricity racing across his skin. From the way her breath caught, she felt it too.
The moment shattered as Hunter swore softly. “Boss, you need to see this.”
Security footage filled the screen – encrypted transmissions sent during the attack.
“Leeta?” Rehan growled.
“Worse.” Hunter’s expression hardened. “The transmission originated from inside this room. During our last council meeting.”
The implications hit like a physical blow. Someone on his council, someone he trusted, had betrayed them to Genesis Corp. Had helped target his sister, his pride, his... Alora.
His tiger roared for release, protective instincts surging. Without conscious thought, he found himself moving closer to Alora, positioning himself between her and potential threats.
“Show me everything,” he ordered.
Hours of analyzing security footage left them all exhausted. Rehan observed his council members’ reactions carefully, noting every micro-expression and shift in scent. His tiger remained restless, hackles raised at the thought of a traitor in their midst.
But his attention kept drifting to Alora. The bandage on her shoulder had started spotting with blood again, though she seemed determined to ignore it. Each time she winced, his tiger growled with the need to protect, to claim, to keep her safe.
“You need rest,” he finally said, cutting through her passionate explanation of viral mutation patterns.
“I need to finish this analysis.” She waved a hand dismissively, then wobbled slightly. “Just... give me five more minutes.”
“That’s what you said an hour ago.” Without thinking, he steadied her with a hand at her waist. The contact sent warmth spiraling through him, his tiger purring at her nearness.
Their eyes met. Something electric crackled between them, intensified by the events of the night. His enhanced senses cataloged everything about her – the slight flutter of her pulse, the lingering scent of smoke in her hair, the way she unconsciously leaned into his touch.
“I...” She swallowed hard. “Maybe you’re right. But Sierra’s data?—”
“Will still be here after you’ve rested.” He surprised himself by adding, “Come to my office. There’s something I need to show you.”
Maya, who’d been pretending not to watch their interaction, suddenly developed a suspicious coughing fit.
“Not a word,” Rehan growled at her.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss.” Her innocent expression fooled no one. “Though if you’re headed that way, you might want to grab some of this miracle cake I saved. You know, for scientific purposes.”
Alora’s tired laugh eased something in his chest. “Everything’s for scientific purposes with you.”
“Says the woman who labeled her coffee cups with chemical formulas.”