Page 19 of Stripe for the Picking
"Goodnight, Wren," he said softly.
To his complete surprise, she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The innocent contact sent fire racing through his veins, his tiger roaring with possessive satisfaction.
"Thank you for such a nice evening," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow at work."
Kiss her properly. Claim those lips. Make her yours.
Every instinct in his body urged him to capture her mouth with his, and to show her exactly how much she affected him. But somehow, through sheer force of will, he restrained himself.
"Sweet dreams," he managed, his voice strained with barely controlled desire.
As she disappeared into her apartment, Rylan stood frozen for a moment, his hand unconsciously touching the spot where her lips had brushed his skin. That simple kiss had done something profound—he could feel the mate bond cementing into place, a humming energy that pulsed through his entire being.
She truly is my fated mate. I can't doubt it anymore. I don't want to.
The short walk to his own apartment in the adjacent building felt both eternal and instantaneous. His mind raced with thoughts of Wren—how much she'd already changed his entire world in just fourteen hours. It seemed impossible, but he supposed fated mates and the mate bond transcended logic and time.
Once inside his apartment, Rylan methodically removed his dress shirt and pants, the familiar routine doing nothing to calm the fire burning through him. He pulled on pajama pants and padded to his kitchen to pour himself a glass of whiskey, the cool tile against his bare feet a sharp contrast to the heat coursing through his body.
The whiskey burned as it slid down his throat, but it did little to settle the desire and hunger consuming him. Images and thoughts of Wren flooded his mind—her beautiful face illuminated by moonlight, the way her black dress had showcased every delicious curve, and how alive she made him feel in ways he'd never experienced before.
This is dangerous territory.
But as he tried to focus on the alcohol's numbing effects, his thoughts turned darker. The Council dinner replayed in his mind—Arvox's calculating stares, the whispered doubts about Wren's presence, and the loaded glances cast their way throughout the evening.
They're questioning my judgment. Questioning her worth.
The rage that thought provoked surprised him with its intensity. How dare they cast doubt on Wren when she'd already proven herself better than anyone here? She'd combatted their cybersecurity crisis in hours when they'd been struggling for weeks to figure out solutions.
Arvox's face materialized in his memory—those cold blue eyes studying every interaction between Rylan and Wren tonight with predatory interest. The Prime Minister's ambition had always been transparent to Rylan's trained senses, even if the rest of the Council remained oblivious to the manipulation.
The pattern became clearer with each sip of whiskey. Every almost-win in the Protocol Trials, every technical anomaly that had cost him points, every partner who'd seemed to sabotagehim at crucial moments—Arvox's fingerprints were all over Rylan's failures.
He's been undermining me for years.
As Rylan finally made his way to bed, his analytical mind sharpened despite the alcohol. Wren was absolutely vital to neutralizing whatever threats the unknown hacker syndicate planned to unleash next. And if Arvox was connected to those attacks somehow, if he'd been playing everyone for years, Rylan wouldn't play along anymore.
Arvox is planning something big. I just need to figure out what.
His protective instincts surged as he settled against his pillows, thoughts of Wren filling his consciousness again. Their mate bond pulsed under his skin, and he felt the invisible tether connecting them pull taut. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, and as his breathing finally evened out, he silently vowed that he wasn't going to let anyone disrespect or threaten his mate ever again.
She's mine to protect now.
NINE
WREN
Wren stirred beneath the silk sheets of her king-sized bed, consciousness slowly filtering through the haze of the most restful sleep she'd experienced in years. Her cotton pajamas felt soft against her skin as she stretched, her body languid and surprisingly relaxed despite being on an alien planet.
How is it possible that so much happened in just one day?
Sunlight from Nova Aurora's twin suns shone brightly through the large window, casting warm golden and orange hues across the spacious bedroom. The sight still felt surreal—yesterday morning she'd been standing outside a coffee shop on Earth, and now she was waking up in a world with purple forests and pink oceans.
But it wasn't just the alien landscape that had her mind spinning. Images from the previous day flooded her consciousness—meeting Rylan with his piercing blue eyes and commanding presence and diving headfirst into their cybersecurity mess and actually solving issues that had plagued them for weeks. For the first time in years, she'd felt truly useful, like her genius-level intellect was finally being put to work on something that actually made a difference.
I helped protect an entire planet.
The thought sent a warm glow through her chest. On Earth, she'd spent her days cleaning up other people's cybersecurity mistakes—password breaches, malware infections, or basic human error. But here, she was combating sophisticated attacks from an organized syndicate, working alongside the most brilliant and capable man she'd ever encountered.
