Page 70 of Claws and Effect

“I don’t understand,” Laykin said, though a strange suspicion began forming in the back of her mind. “Why were you so certain I should be matched with Zyle specifically?”

Her mother smiled, a nostalgic warmth spreading across her features. “Because we’ve known you were meant for each other since the day you were born.”

“When you were just hours old,” her father continued, “the Rubins came to pay their respects. A formal visit, tradition between allied prides. Their son, Zyle—he would have been barely four at the time—came with them.”

“The moment he saw your cradle, something extraordinary happened,” her mother picked up the story, eyes bright with the memory. “He refused to leave your side. Growled—growled—at anyone who came too close to you, including your father.”

“He marked you as his, even then,” King Leoric added. “It’s incredible, but sometimes it happens—early mate recognition. The adults all recognized it immediately.”

Laykin’s mind raced to process this revelation. “You’re saying Zyle and I—we were fated mates? Since I was an infant?”

“Yes.” Her mother squeezed her hand. “We consulted the oldest records, spoke with the elder shifters. There was no doubt. But such things are deeply private, profoundly significant. We agreed with the Rubins to keep it between our families, to allow you both to grow up without that burden of expectation.”

“As the years passed,” her father continued, “we thought perhaps nothing would come of it. You both grew into your roles, led separate lives. After Zyle’s father died, his mother Frances approached us about the treaty for the engagement and the covenant of joining prides—a natural alliance. It seemed the perfect opportunity.”

“So you invented the story about Caroline,” Laykin said slowly, pieces falling into place. “You sent her away on a trip while you manipulated me into accepting the match.”

“‘Manipulated’ sounds so harsh,” her mother murmured. “We preferred to think of it as... creating an opportunity for destiny to unfold naturally. Our good friend Gerri Wilder helped us create this chance for you to connect with Zyle.”

“We knew if given the choice outright, you would never agree,” her father added. “Your sense of duty to the pride, your reluctance to entertain personal happiness at the expense of political advantage?—”

“So you tricked me.” The words came out sharper than Laykin intended.

“We ensured your happiness,” her mother corrected gently. “We created circumstances where you could discover your mate bond without prejudice or expectation.”

Anger flared briefly in Laykin’s chest at being managed so thoroughly, at having her choices manipulated by the people she trusted most. Yet even as the emotion rose, it dissolved against the reality of what had developed between her and Zyle.

The immediate, inexplicable connection when they first met in the forest. The way her lioness had responded to him with a primal recognition that transcended logic. How quickly they had adapted to each other, how natural it felt to move in his orbit.

“Would you have agreed to the match if we had told you the truth?” her father asked quietly.

FIFTY-FIVE

Laykin considered the question honestly. “No,” she admitted after a moment. “I would have dismissed it as superstition. I would have insisted on making a match based on strategic benefit to the pride.”

“You would have sacrificed your own happiness for duty,” her mother concluded. “As you’ve always done.”

The truth of that statement settled heavily between them. Laykin had always viewed personal fulfillment as secondary to her responsibilities. The idea that happiness could align with duty had seemed an impossible luxury, not a birthright.

“I can’t believe how much thought you put into this,” she said finally, torn between lingering irritation at being managed and grudging appreciation for their insight into her character.

“We love you,” her father said simply. “We wanted you to have what we found—a mate who is both a political ally and a true partner of the heart.”

Tears pricked unexpectedly at Laykin’s eyes as she thought of Zyle—his fierce protectiveness, his careful attention to her needs, the vulnerability he showed only to her. He had become essential to her existence with a speed and completeness that defied explanation.

Perhaps, she realized, because the connection had been there all along, waiting to be rediscovered.

“I wouldn’t have found this without your interference,” she acknowledged, the admission loosening something tight in her chest. “I thought happiness was out of reach for someone in my position.”

Her mother drew her into a gentle embrace. “No duty is worth the sacrifice of joy, my darling. We’ve always known that.”

King Leoric joined the embrace, his strong arms encircling them both. For a moment, Laykin allowed herself to be simply a daughter loved by her parents, not a princess with the weight of a pride on her shoulders.

When they separated, her father cleared his throat, emotion making his voice rougher than usual. “Does he make you happy?”

The question was so simple, yet it cut through all political considerations to the heart of what mattered. Laykin didn’t need to consider her answer.

“Yes,” she said softly. “More than I thought possible.”

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