Page 23 of Stripe Theory

Alora’s laugh sparkled through the formal atmosphere. “Only if you promise to share your tiger wisdom in return.”

They fell into animated conversation about genetic markers and viral mutations, Sierra’s usual reserve melting away in the face of Alora’s genuine interest. Rehan watched from a careful distance, pride and unease warring in his chest.

The ease with which Alora navigated between scientific terminology and warm engagement reminded him of how she’d similarly slipped past his own defenses, one explosion at a time.

His father’s disapproving scowl spoke volumes. Franklin Kedi stood like a statue near the window, his silence more pointed than any criticism. When he finally spoke, his words cut through the room’s gentle murmur.

“A human leading shifter research?” Franklin’s tone could have frozen flame. “Bold move, Rehan.”

Rehan met his father’s gaze steadily, years of practice keeping his expression neutral even as his tiger bristled at the implied insult. “Her results speak louder than her species.” He allowed himself a small smile, remembering their breakthrough. “Yesterday’s work alone proved that.”

The tension thickened until his mother Jewel stepped forward, her diplomatic skills honed by years of pride politics. “Shall we move to the dining room? The first course is ready.”

Hunter materialized at Rehan’s elbow, a glint of mischief in his eyes that spelled trouble. “Here, let me help with the seating arrangements.” He moved with exaggerated care toward the chair beside Rehan’s place at the head of the table, then promptly “stumbled,” splashing red wine across the cushion.

“Oh, how clumsy of me,” Hunter’s feigned dismay fooled no one. “Dr. Sky, you’ll have to take the seat on Rehan’s other side. Can’t have you sitting on a wet chair.”

Maya’s barely suppressed snicker from across the table confirmed their conspiracy. “You’re welcome,” she whispered to Alora, loud enough for shifter hearing to catch.

“You look happier already,” Hunter murmured to Rehan. “Less rigid than yesterday.”

SEVENTEEN

Rehan 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.”

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