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"You're thinking too loud," Kieran murmured, his full lips brushing against her temple. "I can practically hear the gears turning."

Maya tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. "Someone has to think while you're busy being all growly and Alpha-like." Her fingers traced the long scar on his jaw, a habit she'd developed in their months together.

"Three different groups have claimed responsibility for my father's disappearance," Kieran said, his jaw tightening beneath her touch. "The Council's refusal to investigate is suspicious at best."

"And treasonous at worst," Maya finished for him. She moved toward the maps spread across their coffee table, red pins marking locations of alleged sightings. "The Council might be behind it themselves. Your father represented the old guard, but you—" she turned to face him, "you're something new. Something they can't predict or control."

Kieran stalked toward her, his movements fluid and predatory in a way that still made her pulse quicken. "I never wanted leadership this way. My father and I didn't agree on much, but he's still?—"

"Family," Maya completed softly. "I know. Despite everything he did to us."

"If he could see you now," Kieran said, tucking her copper hair behind her ear, "he might change his mind about you. About us."

Maya wasn't so sure, but she kept that doubt to herself. The complicated emotions Kieran harbored for his missing father—anger, disappointment, and lingering respect—were his to navigate.

Through their powerful mate bond, she felt the conflicting waves of his emotions. Frustration at the Council's indifference, determination to find his father, and a deeper current of protectiveness that was always present when it came to her.

"The rebellion is getting bolder these days," she said, changing the subject. Her fingers traced the eastern border of their territory where recent clashes had occurred. "With your father gone, they see an opportunity. And with us openly advocating for moderate reforms?—"

"We're caught between traditionalists who think we're too radical and revolutionaries who think we're not radical enough," Kieran concluded.

Maya gave a small nod, her thoughts turning back to the human hybrid in Portland. "She doesn't know what she is yet. But there's people who do. And they're coming for her." She swallowed hard, memories of her own captivity and experimentation rising unbidden. "We can't let them get to her first."

Kieran caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up to his. "We won't." The fierce certainty in his tone washed through her like a wave. "I'm dispatching Logan today."

Her wolf preened at his efficiency. Her human side worried about the logistics.

"What if she doesn't want to come?" Maya asked. "I didn't exactly welcome being kidnapped by a sexy, brooding Alpha, if you recall."

Kieran's lips curled into a dangerous smile. "Sexy?"

She rolled her eyes, though heat bloomed in her cheeks. "That's what you took from that?"

"Absolutely." He pulled her flush against his body. "I seem to remember you came around to the idea eventually."

His mouth descended on hers, stealing her clever retort with a kiss that sent fire racing through her veins.

When they broke apart, Maya rested her forehead against his chest, listening to the strong, steady rhythm of his heart. "I still believe we can change things—create a world where humans and wolf shifters exist together openly. Where hybrids aren't threats but bridges."

"If anyone can do it, it's you." His voice held that particular note of fierce pride that always made her inner wolf preen. "My brilliant, stubborn, rebellious mate."