Page 52 of Stripe for the Picking
Rylan's fists tightened at his sides, his tiger clawing at his restraint. He wanted to argue, to demand action, but he knew it would be futile. The Council operated on its own timeline, beholden to bureaucracy and protocol—things Rylan had little patience for in moments like this.
As the Council leader stood to leave, Rylan caught Wren's eye. She looked just as frustrated as he felt, her lips pressed into a thin line. When the door closed behind the Council leader, she let out a low growl of her own.
"So that's it? He's just going to 'look into it' while Arvox continues to plot?" Rylan growled, the steam from his fury practically coming out of his ears.
General Kael placed a hand on Rylan's shoulder. "We have to trust the system. Acting outside of it will only put us at risk."
Rylan stepped away, pacing the length of the room. "The system is slow, and Arvox is desperate. He's going to make a move soon—something big. We can't afford to wait."
"Then we'll be ready," Wren said, her voice unwavering. Her gaze locked with his, fierce and unyielding. "We'll stay vigilant, expose his next move, and shut him down. He's not going to win."
Rylan stopped pacing, his blue eyes blazing as he looked at her. She was his anchor, his partner, his mate. Her confidence steadied him, even when his instincts screamed for action.
"You're right," he said, his voice low but firm. "We'll be ready. And when he slips up, we'll be there to take him down."
Kael nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's the spirit. Now, get out of here. You've both had a long day already."
They left Defense Nexus together, the weight of the day pressing down on them. But as they walked, Wren slipped her hand into his, her touch a quiet reminder that they were in this together. Rylan's tiger settled slightly, soothed by her presence. She was his calm in the chaos, his balance in the storm. And with her by his side, he knew they could handle whatever came next.
TWENTY-THREE
WREN
Wren strode briskly into the command center beside Rylan the following morning, her stomach a tangled knot of excitement and dread. The air was electric with tension, the faint hum of the arena's systems vibrating through the polished floors. The final day of the Protocol Trials was finally here, and the stakes had never been higher. She glanced at Rylan, his jaw set with that familiar determined edge and his broad shoulders radiating quiet confidence. He was in full alpha mode today, his presence commanding every inch of the space. She loved that about him—how he could alternate from the thoughtful, affectionate man who'd proposed to her under the stars to this unstoppable force of nature. It was utterly intoxicating.
"Ready for our victory lap?" Rylan asked, his voice low but laced with a teasing warmth that made her heart race.
Wren smirked, though her nerves were frayed. "Oh, I'm ready. But let's not get too cocky yet. The Council has probably cooked up something truly sinister for this round."
Rylan chuckled, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sinister or not, we've got this in the bag. We're unstoppable together."
He stopped beside her command station, turning to face her fully. His gaze swept over her, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Then, without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her—brief but searing, a silent recognition of everything they'd built together. Wren's body heated with desire, and she didn't pull away, savoring the feel of his lips on hers.
"Go knock 'em dead, tiger," she breathed against his lips.
Rylan pulled back slightly, and his lips curved into that dazzling smile that always left her breathless. "You know I will."
He then reluctantly turned and headed toward the arena entrance, his strides long and purposeful. Wren watched him go, her gaze lingering on the powerful lines of his back until he disappeared from view. She then took a deep breath and settled into her chair, pulling up the final round's simulation map and specifications.
Her stomach dropped.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she muttered, her small hands moving over the holographic interface.
The course layout was a nightmare—a labyrinth of shifting platforms, collapsing bridges and cliffs, and rogue programs designed to throw competitors off their game at almost every turn. But that wasn't the worst part. At certain checkpoints, the Council had programmed the simulation to cut off comms between partners and disable the ability to manipulate the arena. It was a blatant attempt to cripple their advantage, and it was infuriating.
She clenched her fists. "This is such bullshit," she muttered under her breath.
"What's wrong?" Rylan asked through her comms earpiece, his voice calm but alert.
She leaned forward, her tone sharp. "They're cutting off comms and disabling my controls at specific checkpoints. It's like they're deliberately trying to sabotage us."
There was a pause, then Rylan's low rumble of frustration. "Technically, it's not against the rules. The Council has the authority to design the Trials however they see fit."
"That doesn't make it right," Wren snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "What's the point of having partners if they're just going to strip away half of our advantage?"
"It's their way of making it fairer, I guess," Rylan replied, his voice steady. "But they can't take away our mate bond. That's ours, and that's going to be our secret weapon today."
Wren's anger simmered down slightly at his words. He was right. Their mate connection was deeper than any tech or comms system. It was unbreakable and undeniable.
