Page 67 of Stripe Theory

“The vents,” Alora mumbled against his chest. Her fingers clutched weakly at his shirt. “Have to... distribute the cure. Everyone’s depending...”

“I’ve got you.” He lifted her carefully, cradling both his mate and the precious vials she refused to release. “We’ll do it together. Just stay with me.”

The journey to the ventilation control room was a nightmare of combat and desperation. More enhanced soldiers tried to stop them, but Rehan’s protective fury made him unstoppable. He fought with Alora cradled against his chest, each movement precise despite the viral corruption trying to twist his body.

Hunter’s team had the room secured when they arrived. Sierra appeared moments later, blood staining her claws but satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

“Leeta?” Rehan asked even as he helped Alora prepare the cure distribution. Her hands shook as she input the final calculations, but her mind remained sharp despite her injuries.

“Won’t be threatening anyone ever again.” Sierra’s smile held no remorse. “Amazing how quickly viral mutations can turn fatal when properly motivated. Turns out her ‘evolution’ wasn’t as stable as she thought.”

The cure was released into the ventilation system just as the last containment barriers failed. Rehan felt it taking effect immediately, burning away Leeta’s corrupted virus and restoring natural healing. The viral corruption in his own system retreated, leaving clean strength in its wake.

Alora collapsed to the floor. “It’s done,” she breathed. Her eyes closed and heartbeat slowed to almost nonexistent.

Rehan fell to his knees and scooped her to him. “Don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “I love you so much.” Tears rolled off his cheeks, landing on Alora’s skin and in one of the deep gashes.

He rocked her as the rest of the room faded away. There was nothing he could do to keep her alive. She had sacrificed herself to save everyone else.

Suddenly, she sucked in a deep breath and her pulse picked up. Before his eyes, he watched as the gash his tears had fallen into stopped bleeding and sealed itself with a thin layer of fleshy tissue. Other wounds were doing the same.

What was doing this? His shifter DNA? Her cellular-transforming cure in the air? He really didn’t care as long as she opened her eyes.

And she did.

His tiger purred as her fingers found his hair, her touch gentle despite her exhaustion.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He brushed his lips across her forehead, breathing in her scent beneath the blood and chemicals. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Your heart,” she murmured, “is exactly why I’ll always fight this hard. You’re worth it. We’re worth it. All of this - the danger, the pain, the fear - I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant saving you. Saving us.”

Around them, their makeshift family gathered. Hunter coordinated cleanup efforts while Sierra directed medical teams to the injured. Maya’s voice demanded updates through their comms, her hospital bed apparently not stopping her from managing crisis response.

But for this moment, Rehan simply held his mate and breathed in the scent of home. His tiger settled beneath his skin, content in the knowledge that their mate was safe, their family protected, their future secure.

They had fought for this - for the right to be together, for the future they would build. Human and shifter, science and instinct, logic and love. Together they had proven that the strongest evolution came not from forced change, but from choosing to grow together.

“I love you,” he murmured against her hair. “Both of you - the brilliant scientist and the fearless warrior. Every part of who you are.”

Alora’s smile lit up his heart. “And I love both of you - the powerful alpha and the gentle protector. My mate in all ways.”

His tiger rumbled with satisfaction as her heartbeat steadied against his chest. They had won their future. Everything else was just details.

FIFTY-TWO

Alora stared at her reflection in the mirror, tugging nervously at her dress. After nearly dying last week, a proper date felt almost surreal.

“Stop fidgeting,” Maya ordered through the phone. “The dress is perfect, your hair is perfect, and your mate is probably wearing a hole in his imported marble floor pacing while he waits.”

“But where are we going?” Alora checked her small clutch for the tenth time - lip gloss, phone, mini first aid kit (old habits die hard). “He won’t tell me anything except ‘dress nice but comfortable.’“

“Because it’s called a surprise, genius.” Maya’s eye roll was audible. “Just enjoy it. When was the last time you let someone else plan the science?”

A knock at her door sent butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“He’s here! I have to-”

“Go get him, tiger,” Maya laughed. “And remember - no emergency calls unless someone’s actually dying this time.”

---