Page 43 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

T HE EASTERN BORDER OF Sunburst Pack territory stretched before Conall like an invisible line drawn across the desert landscape.

Something’s wrong , he thought, scanning the terrain with heightened senses.

The recent events with Etta and the ongoing threat of Chimera had everyone on edge. Anders and Larissa were working overtime to secure pack borders, but the sense of vulnerability lingered like a bad smell.

Restlessness churned in Conall’s gut as he patrolled the area alone.

Alone .

The word felt foreign, uncomfortable.

Conall was never truly alone—not when Quinton was always a thought away, always connected by the bond they’d shared since birth.

But today, his twin was deep in the Old Packhouse, helping Anders upgrade security systems in the wake of the Chimera revelation.

Conall ought to be enjoying this rare opportunity. Instead, he felt jittery.

A scent trail caught his attention—foreign, complex.

He inhaled deeply, letting the desert air fill his lungs, filtering through the complex tapestry of scents. Juniper. Jackrabbit. The lingering musk of coyote, hours old.

Then that something else again—something that didn’t belong.

The foreign scent caught his attention like a splash of ice water, complex and jarring against the familiar backdrop of pack territory.

Female shifter, but definitely not Sunburst Pack.

The scent carried notes of pine forest and mountain snow, completely out of place in this desert landscape.

Beneath it lurked something dangerous, a predatory edge that made his hackles rise involuntarily, even in human form.

His muscles tensed, ready to spring.

Instinct took over. Conall shifted seamlessly, clothes falling away as fur erupted along his spine in a wave of transformation. His dark brown wolf form melted into the landscape as he followed the increasingly potent trail, paws silent against the sandy soil.

Each step brought conflicting signals.

Threat , definitely. But also…an inexplicable pull that defied rational explanation.

The scent wasn’t random.

Careful movements. Periodic stops at strategic points.

This was reconnaissance, methodical and precise. Whoever this was knew exactly what they were doing, pausing at each sensor location Anders had installed in the past week.

Heading toward our most vulnerable security point , he realized, fury building with each step. The eastern access route—the one sector where the security grid wasn’t fully operational yet.

His sensitive ears picked up the whisper of movement ahead—too controlled to be wildlife, too deliberate to be innocent.

Conall slowed, dropping into a hunter’s crouch as he approached a rocky outcropping. The stranger’s scent intensified, filling his nostrils with that disorienting combination of threat and something else—something his wolf recognized on a primal level that his human mind refused to acknowledge.

When he shifted back to human form behind a cluster of boulders, it was a deliberate tactical decision. He positioned himself to cut off the intruder’s path. A predator preparing to confront an unknown threat.

She emerged from behind a boulder like a sudden desert storm—all sharp angles and cold calculation. Her naked form gleamed in the fading sunlight, every muscle defined and ready for combat.

Tall, lithe, with hair the color of midnight pulled back in a severe braid that emphasized the harsh planes of her face. Her movements were fluid, economical, those of a trained fighter.

Her eyes flashed when she realized she’d been caught, her body—in human form, like Conall’s—instantly moving into a combat-ready stance.

Identify yourself, Conall demanded, his voice a low growl that echoed slightly against the rock face behind him.

Her lips curled back just enough to reveal the edge of elongated canines—not fully shifted, but not fully human either.

That’s rich, coming from a Stewart twin. Her voice was smoke and whiskey, rough around the edges yet oddly compelling.

The fact that she knew him—or at least knew of him—sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through Conall’s system.

Not a random intruder, then. Someone with specific knowledge of the Sunburst Pack.

She took a step closer, and Conall’s gaze flickered over her form, taking in her lithe, athletic build.

Her body was a weapon—toned thighs, flat stomach marked with a thin silvery scar just below her navel, shoulders squared with confidence despite her nakedness. Her black hair, wild and untamed, fell past her shoulders in waves that caught the dying light, framing high cheekbones and a defiant jaw.

Conall felt his body respond, a hot flush of unwanted desire flooding his system, his cock jerking upright.

His wolf stirred beneath his skin, recognizing something his human mind wasn’t ready to accept.

He shifted his stance, trying to disguise the physical evidence of his reaction, wishing for the loose fit of his patrol clothes.

A faint smirk played at the corner of her mouth, telling him she’d noticed. The knowledge only intensified the heat crawling up his neck, joining the anger already pulsing through his veins.

How dare his body betray him like this? She was an intruder, a threat—and yet his treacherous eyes kept wandering to the curve of her hip, the lean strength of her thighs, the small, perfect scar that marked her right collarbone like an invitation to touch.

Who are you? he growled again, forcing gruffness into his voice to cover the unwelcome huskiness that threatened to emerge. And why are you in Sunburst territory?

She took another step closer, and her scent wafted over him—mountain snow mingled with wild honey and something darker, muskier, that spoke of high-altitude forests where wolves ran free beneath star-swept skies. A perfume that stood in stark contrast to the dry desert air around them.

And…somehow familiar.

Something electric sparked between them in that moment.

More than tension. More than threat.

The air between them seemed to crackle with it, making the fine hairs on his arms stand on end.

Their eyes locked, and Conall felt it—the mate bond.

A force of nature that cared nothing for their mutual hostility.

The recognition slammed through his blood like a flash flood, washing away rational thought.

She felt it too; he could tell by the way her pupils dilated, the subtle catch in her breath.

Her expression shifted from contempt to outright loathing.

Oh, fuck no, she snarled, the sound more wolf than human. Absolutely not.

She attacked—a feint to his left followed by a powerful strike aimed at his throat. Conall blocked instinctively, the impact jarring up his forearm as he twisted away from her second attack.

She took that opportunity to run, moving like liquid shadow across the desert terrain, her form shifting between human and wolf with practiced ease.

Conall pursued, matching her agility, his fury building as she systematically damaged security markers along her escape route.

Each sensor she destroyed flared briefly with a small electronic pulse before going dark, leaving holes in the protective network Anders had so carefully constructed.

Stop! he shouted, voice rough with exertion and rage. You’re in Sunburst territory!

Her only response was a mocking howl that echoed against the mesa walls, a clear challenge he couldn’t ignore.

He drove her into a ravine, using his knowledge of the terrain to his advantage. The narrow passage forced her into a more predictable path. Rocks skittered beneath their feet, the sound of their breathing harsh in the confined space.

When he finally cornered her against a sheer rock face, claws out and teeth bared, their bodies collided with a force that momentarily stunned them both.

The impact drove the air from his lungs as they tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs, partially shifted—caught between forms in their struggle.

The scent of her this close was overwhelming, flooding his senses with conflicting signals—enemy, threat, intruder, mate.

It hummed in the small space separating their bodies, an invisible tether that seemed to mock their mutual hatred. The woman’s eyes burned with a fury that seemed to go beyond simple vengeance, a complex emotion that spoke of deeper wounds.

His inner wolf howled in confusion, even as his rational mind maintained control.

She snarled and backed away, shifting into her human form again.

Once again, Conall followed her lead.

Who are you? he demanded yet again.

My name, she growled, is Nadine Torrance.

Conall stared at her for a long a moment, trying to figure out the connections between this woman— my mate , his inner wolf insisted—and the enforcer for the Sunburst Pack’s former pack alpha. So you’re related to Gregory Torrance? You’re his…what?

Daughter. She practically spat out the word.

At that moment, the mate bond pulsed between them—a painful, unwelcome connection that neither could ignore.

Nadine’s eyes burned with a hatred that seemed to go beyond simple vengeance.

Why are you here? Conall asked.

You and your pack, she spat, killed my father.

Your father isn’t dead.

He is now.

Conall’s eyes narrowed, skepticism warring with an unwelcome seed of doubt.

Before either could process the implications, the distinct sound of tactical movement cut through the desert silence—boots on gravel, the metallic click of weapons being readied. Not the natural sounds of the desert night, but the coordinated approach of trained operatives.

Nadine’s eyes widened—not with fear, but with a sudden, terrible understanding. You set me up, she accused.

No , Conall thought, the truth crystallizing with devastating clarity, we’re both being set up .

The attack came with military precision.

Figures in dark tactical gear materialized at both ends of the ravine, cutting off escape routes.

The distinctive sound of tranquilizer darts being loaded echoed in the confined space—specialized ammunition designed specifically for shifters, capable of penetrating even partially transformed skin.

Conall’s instincts took over.

Despite everything—their confrontation, her accusations, the unwanted mate bond—he pushed Nadine behind him, shielding her with his larger frame as the first dart fired.

Pain bloomed in his shoulder as the needle penetrated, delivering its payload directly into his bloodstream.

As his vision began to blur, he felt her unexpected touch—not an attack but support. She dragged him behind a large boulder, her movements quick and efficient.

Through the growing fog in his mind, he watched with detached surprise as she produced a small auto-injector from her boot and administered something directly into his neck.

Counteragent, she muttered, her face swimming in and out of focus above him. Won’t stop it completely, but buys us time.

Why? he managed to ask through increasingly numb lips, the drug-induced haze making it hard to form words.

Her response was a whisper filled with more complexity than he could process in his compromised state. She leaned close, her breath warm against his ear.

Because I’ve known for months that someone inside your pack is working to destroy other packs. And I intend to prove it’s you and your twin brother.