Page 13 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE FOOTSTEPS STOPPED OUTSIDE their door, and Conall held Nadine’s gaze as they both pushed themselves to standing.

For a moment the bond shivered between them like a live wire.

Electric. Unwanted. Impossible to ignore.

Trust the bond .

His words echoed in his head as metal scraped against metal—keys in a lock.

Whatever was coming, they were about to face it together whether she wanted to or not.

The door swung open with a rusty groan.

Three figures in tactical gear entered, faces hidden behind masks. Professional. Cold.

The leader carried a tablet, his movements crisp and efficient as he surveyed them both.

Ms. Torrance. Mr. Stewart. His voice was modulated—electronically altered to hide his identity. So good to see you both awake.

Conall watched Nadine shift position, testing her injured leg. The silver wound had to be throbbing, but she held her weight. Good. Her muscles coiled with tension, ready to spring despite the lingering effects of whatever they’d drugged them with.

His shoulder—where the dart had hit—was strained, but he was combat-ready.

The bond carried her awareness of his readiness, her strategic assessment of their situation.

We’re stronger together than apart .

What do you want? Nadine kept her voice level.

The leader tilted his head, studying her through his mask. Direct. I appreciate that.

Nadine simply raised her eyebrows in response.

He tapped something on his tablet. We want information. About the packs. About the assets. About Chimera’s operations.

Conall felt Nadine’s shock. Whoever these people were, they knew about the assets. About Chimera.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, she lied smoothly.

Of course you don’t. His voice carried amusement that made Conall’s skin crawl. Just like you don’t know about the Stardust Pack’s missing delegation. Or the Ironwood Pack’s sudden communication blackout.

Conall went rigid. What happened to the delegations?

Ah, now that’s interesting. The leader focused on him, making a note on his tablet. You genuinely don’t know, do you? Your precious Sunburst Pack really doesn’t share everything with their enforcers.

Heat flooded Conall’s face. Enforcers . So they knew exactly who he was, what role he played in the pack hierarchy. This wasn’t random. This was targeted, surgical precision.

Who are you working for? he demanded, authority bleeding into his voice despite their captivity.

The same people who’ve been tracking your mate’s activities for months. The casual way he said mate made the bond flare between them.

Shock rippled through Conall before he could suppress it.

Did you really think we wouldn’t notice the daughter of Gregory Torrance conducting surveillance on multiple pack territories?

They’d been watching her too.

Surveillance? His voice carried a dangerous quiet. What surveillance?

The leader chuckled, a sound like grinding glass.

Ms. Torrance has been quite busy. Cross Timbers Pack.

Blackthorn Pack. Even made contact with some interesting individuals in neutral territories.

His attention shifted back to Nadine. Care to share what you’ve learned about the asset placement program?

Every muscle in Nadine’s body went taut. Conall felt her shock through the bond—they knew about Chimera’s infiltration operations. They knew more than they should.

I don’t— she began.

Please. He held up a hand. We know you’ve identified at least three planted assets. We know you’ve been tracking Chimera operatives. We know you believe someone inside the Sunburst Pack is facilitating these operations.

The world tilted sideways. Conall felt Nadine’s devastation—they knew everything. Her careful investigation, her intelligence gathering, her theories about pack infiltration—all of it compromised.

What do you want from us? Nadine asked, abandoning pretense.

Cooperation. The leader set his tablet aside. Your intelligence networks, combined with Mr. Stewart’s insider access to Sunburst Pack operations. Together, you represent a considerable asset.

Asset . The word tasted like poison.

And if we refuse? Nadine’s voice carried deadly calm.

The leader’s shrug was casual, terrifying in its indifference. Then other packs continue to disappear. Other assets remain activated. Other families lose their children to Chimera’s program.

This wasn’t just about him and Nadine anymore. It was about the asset recovery mission Sunburst had initiated. About the planted shifters like Etta. About pack survival itself.

Conall met Nadine’s gaze across the small space. Her eyes held a question, a silent communication that bypassed words entirely. The mate bond thrummed with shared understanding.

We’re stronger together .

We need time to discuss this, she said finally.

Of course. The leader gestured to his companions. One hour. Choose wisely.

They filed out, leaving them alone again. The lock clicked with finality.

Nadine slumped against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position again.

They’ve been watching me, she whispered, more to herself than to him.

For how long?

No telling. Months, maybe? Since— She stopped, unwilling to voice the timeline.

Conall moved closer and sat, too, not quite touching but near enough that his warmth could reach her.

Tell me about your surveillance, he said quietly. What did you find?

Trust. That was what he was asking for. Information she’d guarded for months, intelligence she’d gathered at considerable personal cost.

Trust the bond .

She took a shuddering breath. Two packs have gone completely dark in the last month.

Cross Timbers and Blackthorn. Stardust and Ironwood are apparently up next.

Her voice cracked slightly on the names.

Their alphas stopped responding to diplomatic communications.

Trade relationships ended abruptly. It’s like they just… vanished.

Conall’s expression darkened. That’s not normal pack behavior.

No, it’s not. She wrapped her arms around her knees, and he could feel her trying to contain the tremor that had started in her hands.

I made contact with lone wolves who’d been turned away from pack territories.

They all reported the same thing—increased security, armed patrols, and complete isolation from outside contact.

Chimera?

That’s what I thought initially. But the timeline doesn’t match their known operations. She met his gaze directly. The blackouts started before Etta’s neural interface was removed. Before your pack even knew Chimera existed.

Someone else is targeting the packs.

Someone who knew about Chimera’s program before it was exposed. The words scraped out, harsh and jagged. Someone with resources and intelligence networks that rival military operations.

They sat in silence for a moment, processing implications. In this moment, they weren’t enemies—they were two people trying to solve a puzzle that threatened everything they cared about.

What about your father? Conall asked. How does his death fit into this?

Her pain lanced through the mate bond at the mention of Gregory. The grief was still fresh, still raw enough to steal her breath if she wasn’t careful.

He was investigating something before he died. She forced the words out past the tightness in her throat. Said he’d found evidence of corruption within the packs. Someone working to destabilize shifter communities from the inside.

And you think that someone was us. Me and Quinton.

I thought so. The evidence pointed to the Sunburst Pack. To the new leadership’s allies. She paused, struggling with admissions that felt like betrayal. But the more I learn, the less sense it makes.

What evidence?

Dad wasn’t just Gregory Torrance, she began. He was never just Vincent’s enforcer. He was something else. Something more.

Conall went very still. What do you mean?

He was a double agent. Working for someone else while pretending loyalty to Vincent. Gathering intelligence on pack operations, leadership structures, security protocols.

Conall blinked.

He’d known Gregory all his life.

The man was vicious. Cruel. And utterly loyal to Vincent.

Right?

He tried to dampen his skepticism, push it down so it wouldn’t travel along their connection to Nadine.

Who was he working for? he finally asked.

I don’t know. He died before he could tell me.

It hit him then, sliding into him despite Nadine’s own attempt to hide it. Nadine had a desperate need to believe her father had been one of the good guys. The alternative was too devastating to consider.

Tell me about your father, he said gently. Not Gregory Torrance the enforcer. Your father.

He wasn’t my biological father, she admitted, the words coming out in a rush. My mother died when I was small. Car accident, nothing supernatural about it. She was human, worked as a teacher in a small mountain town in Colorado.

How’d you end up with Torrance, then?

Gregory found me in the foster system when I was seven. He said my mother had asked him to look after me if anything happened to her, but— She swallowed hard. I think that was a lie. I think he just saw a kid who needed protecting.

He adopted you?

Informally. Took me to live in the mountains, far from pack territories.

He hired a human nanny to look after me, but he came to see me regularly.

Taught me everything—hunting, fighting, survival skills.

How to track, how to hide, how to read people’s intentions.

Her voice grew stronger as she remembered.

He was a good father. Strict but fair. He never let anyone hurt me.

Sounds like a good childhood, overall.

He never talked about his time with the Sunburst Pack, she continued. Said it was a part of his life he wanted to protect me from. But sometimes, late at night, I’d catch him making phone calls. Worried conversations about ‘developments’ and ‘protocols’ and ‘keeping the children safe.’

Children?