Page 16 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE FIRST SIGHT OF Sunburst territory in the predawn darkness should have brought relief.

Instead, tension coiled tighter in Conall’s gut as he watched Nadine navigate the stolen Jeep down the familiar desert road, her knuckles white against the steering wheel.

The mate bond vibrated between them—a constant reminder of everything that had changed in the span of a few hours. Nadine’s scent filled the enclosed space, now undercut with something sharper. Fear? Determination? The silver wound that was still healing?

Impossible to tell.

This is bothering me, Nadine said quietly, breaking the silence that had stretched between them since they’d cleared the facility’s perimeter. Her fingers drummed against her thigh—a nervous habit he was learning to recognize. It was too easy.

Conall’s hands clenched in his lap. He’d been thinking the same thing, but hearing her voice the concern made it feel more real. More dangerous.

The escape? he asked, though he already knew what she meant.

All of it. She shifted in the driver’s seat, and he caught the slight wince as the movement pulled at her injured leg. Three guards to secure two shifters? Keys left in an unlocked vehicle? No pursuit?

Conall nodded, and Nadine let out a low growl. Either our captors are incompetent, or—

Or they wanted us to escape. Conall finished the thought she didn’t want to voice. Wanted us to come here.

The implications twisted in his gut.

If their escape had been orchestrated, if they’d been allowed to flee, then they weren’t survivors—they were weapons. Guided missiles aimed directly at the heart of Sunburst Pack territory.

We need to turn around, Nadine said suddenly, her voice sharp with rising panic. She started to slow the vehicle. Right now.

Don’t. If we’re compromised—if we’re carrying tracking devices or if this vehicle is bugged—then running will only delay the inevitable. My pack needs to know what’s coming.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, but she kept driving forward.

Your pack. She practically spat the words, and through the mate bond he felt her fear crystallizing into rage. The ones who killed my father.

Heat flared in his chest. Dammit, Nadine. We didn’t kill Gregory. We’ve never even—

Save it. She stared out at the desert landscape. The familiar landmarks that meant home to him clearly read as enemy territory to her. I’ve heard enough lies tonight.

The accusation stung more than it should have. Not too long ago, they’d fought side by side to escape that concrete hellhole.

She’d watched his back, trusted him enough to follow his lead. Now she was retreating behind walls of suspicion again, treating him like the enemy.

You’re scared, he said quietly and felt her shock ripple through the bond.

I’m not—

You are. You’re terrified that you’ve been manipulated into walking straight into the hands of the people you think murdered your father.

Conall kept his voice level, nonthreatening, even as his protective instincts screamed at him to reach over and comfort her.

And you’re scared because part of you is starting to believe I might be telling the truth.

Her breathing had changed, becoming more controlled. Deliberately calm. Like she was fighting not to hyperventilate.

That doesn’t change anything, she whispered.

Doesn’t it?

Through the windshield, the lights of Sunburst town appeared on the horizon—scattered and warm against the vast darkness of the desert. His home. The place he’d sworn to protect with his life.

But seeing it through Nadine’s eyes, through the mate bond that carried her growing dread, those welcoming lights looked different.

Like the eyes of predators watching from the dark.

They’re going to kill me, she said, so quietly he almost missed it.

The certainty in her voice—the absolute conviction that she was driving toward her own execution—nearly broke him.

No. The word came out harsher than intended, loaded with days of frustration and unwanted protectiveness. I won’t let that happen.

Her laugh was harsh. You won’t let it happen? You’re one man, Conall. What are you going to do against an entire pack that wants me dead?

Everything , he thought fiercely. Whatever it takes .

His inner wolf perked up, ready to respond to the threat against their mate with scarcely restrained violence.

The pack doesn’t want you dead, he said instead. They don’t even know you exist. Not the real you.

Oh, shit. Right. The impostor. Nadine’s fingers had stopped drumming, clenched around the steering wheel now.

They turned onto the main street, and the new packhouse came into view. Lights blazed in every window despite the early hour.

Someone had sounded the alarm.

Quinton.

As he thought his twin’s name, their connection—muted for hours—suddenly flared to life, carrying Quinton’s relief and worry and rage in equal measure.

Where the hell have you been?

The familiar mental voice made Conall’s chest tighten with guilt.

He’d left without explanation, followed his mate into danger, and put both himself and the pack at risk.

Everything they’d sworn never to do.

It’s complicated , he sent back.

It’s about to get more complicated. Malcolm called an emergency meeting. Everyone’s looking for you .

Of course they were. He was a pack enforcer who’d disappeared in the middle of a security crisis. His absence would have been noticed within hours.

They know you’re missing, Nadine observed, as if reading his thoughts. Her body had gone rigid, every muscle coiled for fight or flight.

They’re going to ask questions, she continued, her voice tight with burgeoning panic as she slowly pulled the Jeep toward the building.

She swallowed hard. About where you’ve been.

What happened to you. And when they see me, they’ll think I’m the woman who accused you of murder. They’ll assume I’m her.

I’ll explain—

Will you? She brought the vehicle to a stop, parking almost a block away, but kept the engine running, her hands still gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.

When she turned to face him fully, the fear in her eyes nearly undid him. Will you tell them about the mate bond? About how you tracked me down against orders? About how you chose to protect a woman who thinks your pack killed her father?

She was right—he couldn’t explain his actions without revealing the bond that tied them together. And revealing that bond would raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

Questions about loyalty. About where his true allegiance lay when he was forced to choose between pack and mate.

This was a mistake. Her hand moved toward the door handle, but she didn’t shift the Jeep into park. I should have trusted my instincts. I should have run when I had the chance.

Don’t. Please. His words—soft, vulnerable—seemed to surprise them both.

She finally turned off the engine.

Stay close to me, he said, gentling his voice. These people don’t know you. They’ll see an intruder, a threat. The only reason they won’t attack on sight is because you’re with me.

Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe. As if the idea that he might actually protect her hadn’t occurred to her.

The mate bond flickered briefly, hopefully, sensing the crack in her armor.

And if they’re right? she whispered. If I am a threat? If everything I believe about your pack is true?

Conall watched as she finally released her death grip on the steering wheel, her hands trembling slightly. When he spoke, his voice carried absolute conviction.

Then I’ll still protect you. From his family.

These people were his world. The people he’d sworn to protect with his life.

And beside him sat a woman who believed they were murderers. A woman who might have been manipulated into coming here as part of some larger game they didn’t yet understand.

A woman he would defend against the world if necessary.

Even if that world included his own pack.

They entered the packhouse together, Nadine’s presence at his shoulder both comforting and deeply wrong.

She moved like liquid shadow, contained but ready to explode into violence at the first provocation.

The main hall fell silent as they appeared. Dozens of eyes tracked their movement—some curious, some suspicious, all wary.

Nadine’s scent would mark her as an outsider immediately, her defensive posture screaming potential threat.

Conall. Malcolm’s voice cut through the silence. The coalpha stepped forward, his massive frame radiating controlled power. His mate, Larissa, stepped up to stand beside him.

And there, standing slightly apart from the main group, was Quinton.

The sight of his twin staggered Conall. They were identical in every way that mattered—same height, same build, same dark hair and eyes.

But where Conall felt fractured, split between duty and the mate bond, Quinton appeared solid. Centered. Complete.

Everything Conall used to be before Nadine had crashed into his life.

Had it really been less than a week?

Report, Malcolm ordered, though his gaze kept flicking to Nadine with unconcealed suspicion.

We were taken by unknown operatives, Conall began. Professional team, well equipped. They had a facility approximately thirty miles east of here.

We? Larissa’s eyes narrowed. You were together?

The question carried weight. Implications. Everyone in the room would know what it meant for a pack enforcer to be found with an outsider under mysterious circumstances.

I tracked her to the abandoned miner’s cabin, Conall said. We were both ambushed.

How convenient, Quinton muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Nadine’s head snapped toward his twin, eyes flashing with anger. You have something to say?

Plenty. Quinton stepped forward, his usual reserved demeanor now brimming with hostility. Starting with asking why you were spying on our territory. Ending with what you really want from my brother.