Page 65 of Claws and Effect

“We need a plan,” she said, breaking the tense silence. “Marcello won’t expect us to be there.”

“He’ll expect you dead,” Zyle corrected, his voice dropping to a growl that raised goose bumps along her arms. “We use that. We set a trap.”

“How?”

“Your father’s study. We have the covenant taken there instead of the main assembly hall.” Zyle navigated a sharp turn without slowing. “We sign immediately with the minimum required witnesses—two elders from each pride should suffice.”

FIFTY-TWO

Laykin nodded, mind racing. “Elder Griffith will support us. He’s never trusted Marcello.”

“After signing, your father announces to the assembly that you’re missing, and the formal ceremony will be delayed,” Zyle continued, his tactical mind finding the path forward. “We move your parents to safety through the secret passage from the study?—”

“How do you know about that passage?” Laykin interrupted, surprised.

The ghost of a smile touched Zyle’s lips. “Business rivals aren’t the only ones I research thoroughly, Princess.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest despite their dire circumstances. This man never ceased to surprise her.

“Marcello will come to the study,” Zyle continued. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I should be there,” Laykin insisted.

“No.” Zyle’s tone left no room for argument. “You’ll monitor from the security feed in the council room.”

The palace gates appeared ahead, guards waving them through with urgent gestures upon recognizing a Rubinvehicle. The normally vibrant courtyard stood eerily empty—the assembly had already begun.

Zyle parked beside a side entrance, coming around to help Laykin from the vehicle despite her protests. She pulled clothes from the duffle for him to put on. At least, he wouldn’t be stalking the palace with his junk hanging out.

As they moved through the service corridors, Laykin leaned more heavily against him than she wanted to admit, her strength ebbing as the adrenaline faded.

“Almost there,” Zyle murmured, his arm tightening around her waist.

Seren waited at the intersection of two corridors, her face lighting with relief at the sight of them. “Thank the gods,” she breathed, rushing forward to support Laykin’s other side. “When you didn’t arrive on schedule?—”

“We were delayed,” Laykin said dryly.

Seren’s eyes widened at the blood visible despite the trench coat. “You need?—”

“The signing first.” Laykin straightened with effort. “Are my parents in the assembly hall?”

“Yes, along with the entire council and visiting dignitaries. Marcello’s been asking about your whereabouts—claiming concern.” Seren’s expression darkened. “Slimy bastard.”

“We need Elder Griffith and one other elder from our pride,” Laykin explained their plan quickly. “And two Rubin elders.”

“Already waiting in your father’s study,” Seren confirmed, her efficiency one of the countless reasons Laykin valued her. “I had a feeling you’d want to avoid the public ceremony after the delay.”

Zyle nodded his approval. “And the covenant paperwork?”

“On the desk, awaiting signatures.” Seren’s gaze shifted between them. “But what happens after? Marcello has supporters throughout the palace guard.”

“We’ll handle Marcello.” Zyle’s voice dropped to a register that sent shivers down Laykin’s spine. “Permanently.”

The look that passed between them needed no words. Marcello’s actions had crossed every line—attacking his own family, endangering innocent lives, betraying his pride. There would be no mercy.

Elder Griffith—a silver-maned lion shifter whose wisdom had guided the pride for decades—rose from his seat as they entered the king’s study. His eyes widened at Laykin’s condition, but he said nothing, merely inclining his head in respectful acknowledgment of her strength.

“Princess. Mr. Rubin. We awaited your arrival with growing concern.”

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