Page 64 of Claws and Effect

The lioness within her refused to surrender. If this was her last stand, she would ensure her uncle’s men remembered the princess they betrayed. Laykin gathered her remaining strength, muscles bunching for one final charge.

The lions moved in perfect unison, springing from opposite sides. Laykin twisted, meeting the first with extended claws while trying to evade the second. They collided in midair, a tangle of fur and fangs. The impact drove her to the ground, breath knocked from her lungs as one pinned her injured shoulder.

Pain clouded her vision. The lion above her opened massive jaws, victory in his eyes?—

A white blur erupted from the forest’s edge. The attacking lion flew sideways, knocked clear across the clearing by the impact. In his place stood a massive white tiger, silver eyesblazing with murderous rage, muscles rippling beneath snow-white fur streaked with black.

Zyle.

Relief flooded through her, quickly replaced by fresh determination. The second lion hesitated, caught between retreat and attack. Laykin used the moment to struggle free, facing him with renewed strength despite her injuries.

The lion chose poorly—lunging for her rather than fleeing. Laykin met his charge, but her injured shoulder betrayed her. She stumbled, her counterattack missing its mark. His weight crashed into her, driving her to the ground once more. His teeth sought her throat.

A roar shook the clearing—not the familiar rumble of a lion but the bone-chilling sound of an enraged tiger. The weight disappeared from Laykin’s chest as Zyle tore the lion away, massive paws batting him like a toy. The lion’s neck snapped with a sickening crack in Zyle’s powerful jaws.

Silence fell across the clearing, broken only by Zyle’s heavy breathing as he stood protectively over her. His silver eyes scanned the forest, seeking any remaining threats. Finding none, he turned to Laykin, shifting seamlessly back to human form.

“Can you shift?” His voice remained tight with controlled fury as he knelt beside her.

Laykin concentrated, her lioness retreating beneath her skin despite the pain. The transformation intensified the burning in her shoulder, drawing a gasp from her lips as she completed the change.

“I’m okay,” she insisted despite the evidence to the contrary—blood covered her naked body, running in rivulets down her arms and torso.

Zyle’s expression darkened as he examined the wounds.

“The others,” Laykin said, trying to stand. “Holden?—”

“Reinforcements arrived shortly after I did.” Zyle gathered her into his arms before she could protest. “Hold on to me.”

Laykin wrapped her good arm around his neck as he moved through the forest with preternatural speed and grace. Despite the circumstances, she found herself noting how easily he carried her as if she weighed nothing at all.

They emerged from the trees near the road. The scene had transformed—Rubin Pride guards swarmed the area, securing the attackers who remained alive. Holden, back in human form with blood streaking his face, directed operations from beside their damaged SUV.

“Status,” Zyle barked as he approached, still carrying Laykin despite her whispered insistence that she could walk.

“Ten attackers neutralized, three captured alive for interrogation.” Holden’s professional tone didn’t quite mask his relief at seeing them both. “Two of our security detail dead, three injured. The area is secure.”

Zyle nodded once, carrying Laykin to an undamaged SUV. “We need medical attention for the princess,” he called to a nearby guard.

“No.” Laykin’s voice brooked no argument as Zyle set her carefully in the vehicle. “We need to get to the assembly immediately.”

“You’re injured,” Zyle growled, frustration evident in every line of his body.

Laykin reached into the back of the SUV, pulling forward a duffle bag and folded trench coat she’d packed that morning. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy getting to the general assembly,” she explained, slipping it on to cover her bloodied body. “Take me to the palace now, Zyle. No delays.”

The silver ring around his irises emerged with anger and fear. “You need a doctor?—”

“We need to sign that covenant before my uncle makes his next move.” Laykin gripped his wrist with her good hand. “I overheard them—Marcello plans to target my parents next.”

That stopped him. Zyle’s expression hardened into something dangerous as he processed this information. “Your parents are already at the palace.”

“Exactly.” Laykin met his gaze steadily. “I’m already healing, even if it’s slowly.” She flexed her injured arm, wincing but proving her point as the movement came easier than before. “Shifter, remember? The signing takes priority.”

A muscle ticked in Zyle’s jaw as he fought an internal battle. Finally, he nodded sharply and slid into the driver’s seat of his vehicle. “Holden,” he called through the open window. “Remain here with the prisoners. Extract whatever information you can. We’re proceeding to the palace.”

Holden acknowledged the order as Zyle started the engine. The SUV roared to life, accelerating down the mountain road with far more speed than safety warranted.

Laykin studied Zyle’s profile as he drove, noting the barely leashed rage in every movement. Blood—not his own—spattered and streaked his forearms. The pristine, controlled CEO had vanished, replaced by something primal and dangerous.

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