Page 37 of Stripe for the Picking
"That's probably best," she agreed, adjusting her blouse. "We'll have plenty of time to show our affection at night in your apartment."
Our apartment now.
"Although," he said boldly, "if we win the Protocol Trials, I don't care who's watching. I'm going to kiss you right there in the arena and announce to the entire Defense Nexus personnel, the Council, and the entire planet that you're my mate."
Her smile was pure sunshine, that infectious confidence sparkling in her green eyes. "Well, get ready to do that, because we're going to win those Trials."
God, I love her certainty.
As they walked toward Defense Nexus, the twin suns casting their familiar glow over the city of Nexus, Rylan found himself opening up in ways that surprised him.
"So, the Council has been pressuring me for ten years to find my mate," he admitted, his jaw tightening. "Ever since I won the Trials that first time a decade ago. They've made it clear that a mated leader is more... stable. More effective."
Wren squeezed his hand gently. "Well, I'm by your side now. And the Council will be more than pleased when we blow the competition away at the Trials and they realize we were mates all along."
Her enthusiasm was infectious, casting away the doubts and fears that had plagued him for years. "It will truly knock their socks off, won't it?"
"Absolutely." She grinned up at him, her confidence unwavering. "They have no idea what's about to hit them."
Ten minutes later, Rylan's console at his workstation hummed to life as he logged into the Defense Nexus systems, muscle memory guiding his fingers across the holographic interface. Beside him, Wren logged into their systems with the fluid grace of someone who'd been born to command technology, her eyes soon scanning multiple data streams with laser focus.
The overnight security logs painted an eerily pristine picture—no breach attempts, no probing attacks, not even the faintest whisper of the hacker syndicate that had been relentlessly pummeling their security systems for weeks.
Way too quiet.
"This doesn't make sense," Rylan muttered, his jaw tightening as he cross-referenced the data. "Three days of radio silence after weeks of constant assault? They should've tried something by now."
Wren leaned closer, her scent momentarily distracting him from the ominous implications. "I'm thinking the exact same thing. Either they're building up for something massive, or someone's holding them back for strategic reasons."
Arvox.The name slithered through Rylan's mind like a poisonous snake. Every single instinct warned him that the Prime Minister was orchestrating this unnatural quiet, manipulating events from the shadows with the same calculated precision he'd used to sabotage Rylan's previous Trial attempts.
"Both scenarios point to the same puppet master," Rylan said, his tone holding a deadly edge. "And neither scenario ends well for us."
Wren's hand brushed his arm, sending a jolt shooting through his nervous system. "Hey, let's focus on what we can control. Take me back to the arena—I want to run through another simulation before the opening ceremony. Something harder this time."
Smart mate. Always seems to know how to redirect my restless energy.
"The final simulation from last year's Trials," Rylan decided, pushing back from his workstation. "If we can master that level of complexity, we'll be unstoppable for sure."
He guided Wren to the elevator and soon it descended toward the basement command center, carrying with it the weight of anticipation that made Rylan's tiger start to pace. General Kael stepped aboard on the first floor, his weathered face breaking into a knowing grin that set off alarm bells in Rylan's head.
"Mind if I observe your preparations today?" Kael's sharp eyes flicked between them, lingering on the subtle changes in Rylan's posture. "Fresh perspective never hurt anyone."
"Of course, General," Wren said before Rylan could respond. "We'd appreciate your input."
He knows I claimed her.Kael's enhanced senses had undoubtedly picked up on the mated scent clinging to both of them in this close proximity. The older tiger shifter's satisfied expression confirmed Rylan's suspicions.
The command center's dim lighting welcomed them like an old friend, banks of holographic displays casting ethereal blue glows across the curved walls. Rylan moved to the central console with predatory purpose, his fingers dancing across controls that could reshape reality itself.
"Arena activation sequence initiated," he announced, watching as the massive space below transformed from empty chamber to treacherous landscape. Jagged mountains eruptedfrom the floor, dense forests of crystalline trees sprouted in seconds, and a network of bridges and platforms materialized across a churning river of molten energy.
Wren settled into her command station with the confidence of a goddess claiming her throne. "This is last year's final simulation? You're not messing around this time."
"Never do when it comes to winning," Rylan replied, his voice carrying the alpha authority that had earned him his position. The weight of expectation pressed against his shoulders—nine years of second-place finishes, of watching lesser shifters claim victories that should've been his.
Kael positioned himself beside Wren's command station, his experienced gaze cataloging every detail of the arena layout. "Impressive course design. Multiple choke points, environmental hazards, and what appears to be at least fifteen civilian rescue scenarios scattered throughout."
"Seventeen," Wren corrected, her fingers already mapping optimal routes through the holographic display. "And three of them are decoys designed to waste time and resources."
