Page 49 of Stripe for the Picking
Wren was checking the system diagnostics one final time before the round began, when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye down on the arena floor. Prince Zarik was moving with deliberate stealth toward Rylan's position, and every instinct she'd honed during years of analyzing situations screamed that something was wrong.
"What the hell is he doing?" she muttered, leaning forward in her chair.
Zarik's movements weren't random—they were calculated and predatory. He circled toward Rylan's blind spot with the intensity of a hunter stalking prey. The gleam in his eyes made her chest tighten, and through their mate bond, she felt Rylan's sudden spike of alertness.
"Rylan, behind you?—"
But before she could finish her warning, Zarik's body contorted and shifted into his massive wolf form, muscles bunching as he launched himself through the air toward hermate. The arena erupted in chaos as spectators gasped and competitors scattered.
Rylan spun with lightning reflexes, his own transformation rippling through his body as he shifted into his magnificent tiger form. Black and gold stripes blazed across his powerful frame as he dodged Zarik's attack by mere inches, his massive paws finding purchase on the arena floor.
"What the fuck is happening down there?" someone shouted from another command station.
Wren's heart pounded as she watched her mate face off against the snarling wolf. Through their completed bond, she felt Rylan's controlled fury and his tiger's primal need to protect and dominate. The two shifters circled each other, hackles raised, while the arena's countdown timer continued ticking toward the official start of round two.
A flash of movement drew her attention to the observation deck. Prime Minister Arvox stood among the Council members, but unlike the others who appeared shocked and concerned, a cold smile played across his lips. His ice-blue eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched the confrontation unfold.
"You bastard," Wren whispered, her hands clenching into fists. "You orchestrated this."
The pieces clicked together with terrifying clarity. Arvox knew Rylan and Wren were too skilled to beat through normal competition, so he'd arranged for Zarik to eliminate Rylan through violence. It was the only way to stop their inevitable victory.
Down in the arena, Rylan's tiger form moved with deadly grace, each step calculated and precise. When Zarik lunged again, jaws snapping, Rylan sidestepped and raked his claws across the wolf's flank. Blood sprayed across the arena floor as Zarik yelped and rolled away.
"That's right," Wren breathed, fierce pride swelling in her chest. "Show him what happens when someone threatens you."
The mate bond pulsed with Rylan's primal satisfaction as he pressed his advantage. His tiger was larger than Zarik's wolf, and infinitely more disciplined. Where Zarik fought with raw aggression and desperation, Rylan fought with the strategic mind of a leader combined with his beast's lethal instincts.
Zarik tried to circle around for another attack, but Rylan anticipated the move. His powerful haunches bunched as he pounced, pinning the wolf beneath his weight. His fangs closed around Zarik's throat—not enough pressure to kill, but enough to send an unmistakable message.Submit or die.
Zarik's wolf form went limp in surrender, and only then did Rylan release him. The massive tiger stepped back, his blue eyes scanning the arena for any other threats before he shifted back into human form. Someone quickly tossed him his clothes, and he dressed with efficient movements while keeping his gaze fixed on the command center.
"I'm okay," his voice soon crackled through her earpiece, steady despite what had just happened.
"That was too close for comfort," Wren said, her hands shaking slightly as adrenaline coursed through her system. "And just so you know, Arvox was smiling during the entire fight. I think he planned this attack."
Rylan's jaw clenched, and she felt his rage burn white-hot through their bond. "I'm not surprised. Taking me out was his only chance to stop us."
"Well, his little scheme failed spectacularly."
"And it just gave us all the evidence we need to destroy him." Rylan's voice carried the promise of retribution. "After this round, we're going straight to the Council."
General Kael strode into the arena, his commanding presence immediately drawing attention. The crowd's agitated murmurs began to quiet as he raised his hand for silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Kael's voice boomed across the arena, "the situation is now under control. Prince Zarik has been disqualified for initiating an unprovoked attack on a fellow competitor, which constitutes a clear violation of the Protocol Trials' regulations."
Relief flooded through Wren, but it was short-lived.
"However," Kael continued, his expression grim, "Commander Kaedor must also face consequences for engaging in combat that resulted in injury to another competitor. While his actions were clearly defensive in nature, violence between competitors is strictly prohibited. Therefore, he will be assessed a twenty-point penalty."
"What?" Wren's voice cracked with indignation. "That's completely unfair!"
Her console displayed the updated scoreboard, and her heart sank. Rylan's commanding twenty-point lead had vanished. He was now tied for first place with two other competitors.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered, her protective instincts flaring. Even in defeat, Arvox had managed to level the playing field.
Wren met Rylan's gaze, and she saw the grim determination reflected in those blue depths. He wasn't discouraged—if anything, the challenge seemed to fuel his competitive fire.
"Ready to show Arvox that nothing can stop us?" his voice came through her earpiece, steady and confident.
