Page 66 of Claws and Effect

“Circumstances required adaptation,” Laykin replied, moving to her father’s desk where the contract lay open, its ornate calligraphy spelling out the alliance that would change their prides forever.

Zyle supported her as she sat in her father’s chair, his hand never leaving her uninjured shoulder. The elders gathered around, solemn witnesses to history unfolding in this unexpected way.

With steady strokes, Laykin signed her name to the document, officially binding herself to both the covenant and to Zyle. He signed next, his powerful signature beside hers. The elders added their names as witnesses, making the document legally binding.

“It is done,” Elder Griffith declared, his voice carrying the weight of ritual. “The prides are one.”

Laykin met Zyle’s eyes, finding in them the same realization that struck her—regardless of what happened next, they were officially bound. No longer an arrangement to be fulfilled later, but a reality sealed in ink and law.

The moment broke as Seren returned with her parents, both looking confused and concerned.

“Laykin!” Her mother rushed forward, stopping short at the sight of her daughter’s blood-stained clothing. “What happened?”

“Marcello happened,” Laykin said flatly, rising from the chair with Zyle’s support. “Father, we need you to address the assembly, tell them I’m missing and the ceremony is delayed until I’m found.”

To his credit, King Leoric grasped the situation immediately. “A diversion while you’re actually safe.”

“Not exactly.” Zyle’s voice remained tight with controlled fury. “We’re setting a trap. You and the queen will leave through the secret passage with my guards.”

“And you two?” Queen Juliette looked between them, understanding dawning in her eyes.

“We end this,” Laykin said simply.

Her father straightened, every inch the king despite the fear in his eyes—not for himself, but for his daughter. “There must be another way.”

“He tried to kill your daughter,” Zyle growled. “Twice. There is no other way.”

Silence fell across the room, heavy with the weight of what came next. Finally, King Leoric nodded once. “What do you need us to do?”

The plan moved swiftly after that. Her parents departed with four of Zyle’s most trusted guards, disappearing behind a bookcase that concealed the ancient passage. The elders followed, their presence too valuable to risk in what would come.

Seren squeezed Laykin’s hand. “Be careful,” she whispered before leading her to the adjacent security office where monitors displayed every corner of the palace.

“You too,” Laykin replied, embracing her friend with her good arm. “Stay with my parents. Keep them safe if this goes sideways.”

On the monitors, they watched as King Leoric entered the grand assembly hall, his bearing grave as he approached the podium. The room fell silent at his unexpected entrance.

“My friends, allies, and honored guests,” his voice rang clear through the speakers. “I regret to inform you that my daughter, Princess Laykin, has not arrived as scheduled. Until we ascertain her whereabouts, the treaty ceremony must be postponed.”

FIFTY-THREE

Murmurs rippled through the assembly. The camera caught Marcello’s face, a flash of triumph quickly masked by manufactured concern as he rose to speak.

“Your Majesty, perhaps I might assist in the search? As her uncle?—”

“That won’t be necessary,” King Leoric interrupted. “Security forces have already been dispatched.”

Marcello’s expression darkened momentarily before smoothing into solicitous worry. “Of course, brother. Please let me know how I might help.”

“I will be in my study.” The king departed without further explanation, leaving confusion in his wake. Laykin watched the monitors intently as Marcello remained in his seat for several long moments, apparently deep in thought. Finally, he rose and slipped from the assembly hall through a side door.

“He’s heading for the study,” Seren whispered unnecessarily as they tracked his progress through the palace corridors.

Laykin’s heart hammered against her ribs. On the central monitor, Zyle sat in her father’s chair, back to the door, perfectly positioned to be mistaken for the king from behind.

The study door opened. Marcello entered, closing it quietly behind him.

“Brother,” he began, his voice carrying clearly through the microphones. “I’ve been thinking about this formal covenant situation.”

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