Page 28 of Claws and Effect

His tiger roared with satisfaction.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” he replied, voice rougher than intended.

Laykin pushed away from the doorframe and approached him, bare feet silent on the marble floor. “Good. I like mysteries.”

She tilted her head up for a kiss that Zyle readily supplied, savoring the way she rose onto tiptoes to meet him. When they broke apart, a soft smile played on her lips, transforming herfrom regal princess to the woman who had moaned his name into the darkness hours earlier.

“Coffee?” he offered, struggling to maintain his composure.

“You really are my hero.” She accepted the mug with both hands, inhaling the rich aroma before taking a sip.

They settled at the breakfast bar, sunlight streaming through the windows as the city awakened below them. Zyle found himself cataloging every detail about her—how she tucked her hair behind her ear when thinking, the tiny scar near her temple that his lips had discovered the night before, the way her eyes shifted from green to gold depending on the light.

His tiger paced restlessly beneath his skin, demanding they cement this bond, make it official, unbreakable. Mark her so thoroughly that no other male would dare approach her. The intensity of that possessive urge startled him.

“What happens now?” Laykin broke the comfortable silence, her expression thoughtful as she studied him over the rim of her coffee mug.

“What do you want to happen?” Zyle countered, holding her gaze steadily.

She traced the marble countertop with a fingertip, her focus dropping from his face. “I worry that duty will eventually override... this.” She gestured between them. “That we’ll wake up one day and realize we’re playing parts in someone else’s political drama.”

The vulnerability in her voice reached past his defenses and touched something raw within him. In the boardroom, competitors called him ruthless, cold, calculating. None would recognize him now, desperate to ease the worry from her brow.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

TWENTY

When she raised her eyes to his, Zyle reached across the counter to take her hand. “I’ve spent my life following the path laid out for me. Running the corporation. Leading the pride. Never questioning the arranged mating that would eventually secure our future.” His thumb traced circles on her palm. “But this—what happened between us—transcends politics and pride expectations.”

“How can you be so sure?” Challenge sparked in her hazel eyes. “We barely know each other.”

“My tiger recognized you before I knew your name.” Zyle locked his gaze with hers, letting her see the silver rim his emotions triggered. “That means something among our kind.”

“My lioness did the same.” Her admission emerged as a whisper, creating an intimate bubble around them that shut out the rest of the world. “That scares me more than any contract.”

“Why?”

“Because contracts can be broken. Fated bonds can’t.” She squeezed his hand. “Suddenly there’s much more at stake than pride alliances.”

The raw honesty in her voice matched something building in his own chest. Zyle had built his empire on strategicplanning and cold calculation. But with Laykin, every carefully constructed wall crumbled at her touch.

Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, and she sighed. “I should go. I have a charity board meeting at ten.”

“I’ll drive you,” he offered immediately, already calculating the security measures needed.

“No need. Seren’s picking me up.” Laykin slid off the barstool. “Though I might need to borrow clothes. Unless you prefer I attend a board meeting in evening wear or just your shirt.”

The image of her walking around in nothing but his shirt sent heat racing through him. “As tempting as that is, I suspect the board might raise objections.”

Thirty minutes later, they stood by the door, Laykin now dressed in yoga pants Seren brought. But instead of changing into the blouse her friend had provided, Laykin had put on Zyle’s T-shirt, the soft fabric swimming on her small frame.

“Your shirt...” she shrugged, a hint of color touching her cheeks, “it smells like you. Makes me feel like you’re with me.”

Something fierce and tender unfurled in Zyle’s chest at her admission.

“I’ll call you later?” she asked, uncertainty flashing across her face.

Rather than answer with words, Zyle pulled her against him, one hand cradling her face while the other pressed possessively against the small of her back. The kiss started gentle but quickly blazed into something hungry and demanding. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pressed closer, soft curves molding against him.

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