Page 17 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

The mate bond flared with protective fury. Conall moved instinctively, placing himself slightly between Nadine and Quinton. The gesture was subtle but unmistakable—and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Quinton’s expression shifted from suspicion to something like betrayal. In their entire lives, they’d never stood on opposite sides of anything. Had never chosen different loyalties.

Until now.

Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private, Larissa suggested smoothly, though her tone made it clear this wasn’t really a suggestion. Council only. For now.

The coalphas’ pack council members relocated to the meeting hall, the same room where the fake Nadine had spun her lies just hours earlier. The irony wasn’t lost on Conall as he found himself defending the real woman to the same audience that had rejected her impostor.

Start from the beginning, Malcolm said once they were seated around the conference table. Everything.

So Conall told them. About tracking Nadine to the miner’s cabin, about the drugged darts, about waking up in the concrete cell.

He left out the mate bond, the protective instincts that had driven him to seek her out in the first place. Some truths were too dangerous to share.

Nadine remained silent through most of it, her expression carefully blank. But he could feel her tension through the bond—the way she cataloged every face, every reaction, looking for signs of guilt or deception.

And you escaped how, exactly? Anders asked, his analytical mind picking apart the story for inconsistencies.

Ambushed the guards, Nadine said quietly, speaking for the first time since they’d entered the room. Our captors were sloppy.

It was close enough to the truth. She didn’t mention the way they’d worked together with seamless coordination, the trust that had developed between them in those desperate moments. The way the mate bond had made them move like two parts of a single organism.

Interesting, Larissa mused. And these operatives—you have no idea who they were working for?

Not Chimera, Conall said. Different equipment, different methods. Corporate, maybe. Or private contractors.

Shifters? Malcolm asked.

Conall shook his head. Humans.

Someone with significant resources, Nadine added, her tone guarded. And specific intelligence about both of us.

The room fell silent as everyone processed the implications. An unknown enemy with the capability to track and capture pack members. The security breach that represented was staggering.

There’s something else, Nadine said suddenly, her gaze finding Malcolm’s. I need to discuss my father’s death. And my suspicions about infiltration within your pack.

Infiltration? Larissa asked, her eyebrows rising in disbelief.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Hostile gazes fixed on Nadine from all directions, the pack’s protective instincts activated by the implied threat.

Careful. Malcolm’s voice carried the rumble of alpha displeasure. You’re making serious accusations.

I’m stating facts. She met his stare without flinching, and Conall found himself admiring her courage even as he worried for her safety. Gregory Torrance was murdered. The trail led back to Sunburst territory. Someone in this pack wanted him silenced.

That’s impossible, Larissa said sharply. We exiled Gregory and Hannah after their attempted coup. We don’t execute our own people.

Maybe you don’t. Nadine’s gaze swept the room, lingering on faces Conall had known his entire life. But someone does. Someone with access to Sunburst intelligence and resources.

Around the table, the council members shifted uncomfortably, the seeds of suspicion taking root.

Conall’s wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, torn between loyalty to his pack and the growing certainty that Nadine was telling the truth. Not about him and Quinton being the killers—that wasn’t true. But about there being more to Gregory’s death than anyone had realized.

Do you have proof of these claims? Malcolm asked, his tone dangerously calm.

Nadine’s jaw tightened. Physical evidence from the mine where Gregory died. I treated it as a proper crime scene.

The silence stretched until Larissa leaned forward. What kind of evidence?

Fur samples. Scent markers. Gregory’s blood, mixed with blood that wasn’t Gregory’s.

Nadine’s voice remained steady, professional, but Conall could feel the pain underneath through their developing connection—the clinical detachment she used to protect herself from the emotional weight of what she’d discovered.

Signs of a struggle involving at least three wolves in shifted form.

Malcolm’s expression darkened. And you believe this implicates members of our pack?

The scent trails led back toward Sunburst territory. The fur samples… She hesitated, and Conall sensed her internal battle between the need for truth and the knowledge that her next words would be devastating. The fur samples match the Stewart twins’ scent and color.

The council erupted. Voices raised in protest, anger, disbelief. Through it all, Conall sat frozen as accusations swirled around him and Quinton.

Stewart twins’ scent and color.

Impossible, Quinton said flatly, his voice cutting through the chaos. We never went anywhere near that mine. Neither of us.

That’s what someone would say if they were guilty, Raymond Gonzales observed, his weathered face creased with concern. But there was something in his tone that made Conall’s wolf stir uneasily—not just concern, but an eagerness to pursue this line of investigation that felt disproportionate.

Evidence can be planted, Una Sanchez countered sharply, surprising Conall with her immediate defense. Someone could have gathered Stewart fur from anywhere—training grounds, patrol routes, even their apartment. This proves nothing.

Conall frowned. Una’s passionate defense should have been reassuring, but something about her intensity felt performative, as if she was playing a role rather than expressing genuine conviction.

For a moment, Conall found himself analyzing the strange dynamic between Raymond and Una—ostensibly taking opposite positions, but both managing to stoke controversy rather than calm it.

Raymond pushing for immediate investigation while Una’s overly aggressive defense actually almost made the accusations seem more credible.

Stop it , he told himself firmly. These people have been your family your entire life.

Raymond took you both on your first solo navigation run through the southern hills, and once carried Quinton three miles back to the packhouse when he broke his ankle on patrol.

Una helped cover for you the time you snuck out to chase a rogue deer and got lost overnight.

These people have spent years looking out for you. They’re just trying to help .

Where is this evidence now? Anders asked, cutting through the emotional reactions to focus on practical matters.

Everything is secured in a safe deposit box in Roswell—neutral territory, no shifter influence.

Roswell. Two hours away, in human-controlled territory where pack politics couldn’t interfere with evidence storage.

And you gathered it carefully? Preserved it? Anders asked.

Photographed everything in place, collected samples according to forensic protocols, documented chain of custody. Nadine’s voice carried the crisp efficiency of someone with investigative training.

We need to examine this evidence, Malcolm decided, his alpha authority cutting through the continued murmurs of dissent. If there’s proof of wrongdoing, we’ll follow it wherever it leads.

I’ll retrieve it, Nadine said, already rising from her chair.

I’ll drive you, Conall offered automatically, the developing bond making her safety his immediate priority despite the accusations hanging over him.

No. Her refusal was sharp, immediate. I won’t risk having evidence compromised by someone who might have a vested interest in its destruction.

The words hit like a physical blow. He felt her internal war—part of her was drawn to him instinctively, but her logical mind insisted that someone with Stewart genetics was involved in Gregory’s death.

Her training told her one thing while something deeper suggested another, and she was choosing to trust evidence over instinct.

That’s ridiculous, Quinton said, his voice tight with offended pride. Conall would never tamper with evidence. Neither would I.

Wouldn’t you? Nadine’s gaze moved between the twins. If that evidence proved your guilt, wouldn’t self-preservation override ethical considerations?

Not for Conall, Quinton replied with absolute conviction. Never for him.

Una leaned forward, her earlier defensive stance shifting. Maybe we should consider that someone wants us to suspect the Stewart twins. This could be misdirection—make us focus on internal threats while the real enemy operates freely.

Or maybe, Raymond countered, his voice carrying grim certainty, we need to face the possibility that trust has been misplaced. The twins have access to everything—patrol schedules, communication protocols, security measures. They’d be perfectly positioned to cover their tracks.

Conall forced himself to focus on the legitimate concerns being raised rather than imagining conspiracies where none existed.

Raymond and Una were both trying to help in their own ways—Raymond by ensuring the investigation was thorough, Una by pointing out potential flaws in the logic.

Their approaches were different, but their loyalty to the pack was unquestionable.

Enough, Anders said, his military precision cutting through the increasingly heated debate. I’ll accompany Ms. Torrance to retrieve the evidence. Neutral escort, chain of custody maintained, no opportunity for compromise by any interested party.

Relief flooded through Conall—not just because Anders’s proposal solved the immediate problem, but because it demonstrated that their lead guardian wasn’t automatically assuming guilt. Anders was approaching this like the professional he was, focused on facts rather than emotions.

That’s acceptable, Nadine agreed after a moment’s consideration.

We’ll go after this meeting, Anders said, and Malcolm and Larissa both nodded their approval.

In the meantime, Malcolm said, we have a serious problem. Unknown operatives with the resources to capture pack members. We need to identify them and neutralize the threat.

I can help with that, Nadine said quietly.

Every shifter in the room turned toward her. The offer was unexpected—and deeply suspicious, given her accusations against the pack.

Why? Quinton demanded, his distrust evident. What’s in it for you?

They took me too, she replied simply. And they clearly know more about my father’s death than they should. I want answers as much as you do.

Her offer could be a trap, someone muttered. Conall thought it might have been Una, but he wasn’t sure.

It could, Malcolm agreed. But it’s also an opportunity. If we’re going to investigate Gregory’s death and identify these operatives, we need all the intelligence we can get.

He looked directly at Conall. You worked well together during the escape. Are you willing to partner with her on this investigation?

Work with Nadine? Spend days, maybe weeks, in close proximity while fighting the mate bond every step of the way?

The idea was both thrilling and terrifying.

She doesn’t trust us, Conall said. She thinks we’re the enemy.

I think someone in this pack is the enemy, Nadine corrected.

Under supervision, Larissa added quickly. Anders will coordinate. Full transparency on all findings.

I’m willing to work with you to find my father’s killer. Nadine held Conall’s gaze. If you’re willing to work with me, of course.

His wolf practically vibrated with excitement at the prospect of extended time with their mate.

But his human half remained wary.

This felt like stepping onto a battlefield where the lines between ally and enemy were deliberately blurred.

What about the facility where we were held? he asked, stalling for time to think.

We’ll dispatch a team, Larissa replied.

So? Malcolm’s gaze moved between Conall and Nadine. Are you willing to work together?

Nadine spoke first. Like I said, I want justice for my father. If working with your people gets me closer to that goal, then yes.

All eyes turned to Conall. Pack expectation pressed down on him, but beneath it ran a deeper current. The certainty that saying yes would change everything between them.

Change everything between him and Quinton too.

His twin’s disapproval radiated through their connection like a physical force.

Don’t do this, Quinton said quietly, the words meant for Conall alone but audible to everyone in the room. She’s manipulating you. Can’t you see that?

The accusation hit like a slap to the face. Not because it might be true, but because it revealed how far apart they’d grown in just a few days. Quinton saw deception where Conall sensed pain. Manipulation where he felt desperation.

The mate bond was changing him, reshaping his perceptions in ways that should have terrified him.

Hell, maybe it did terrify him.

I’ll do it, he said finally, the words feeling like stepping off a cliff. But I want full disclosure. Everything she knows, everything she suspects. No secrets.

Agreed, Nadine said, though something in her tone suggested she had her own reservations about complete honesty.

Malcolm nodded once. Then it’s settled. Anders, after we’ve seen the evidence Ms. Torrance gathered, you’ll coordinate their investigation.

Something nagged at Conall. A loose thread that could unravel everything.

The pieces suddenly clicked together in his mind—the sophisticated operation, the detailed knowledge, the perfect timing of their capture.

We’re missing a piece of this puzzle. Conall spoke aloud, working through the possibilities as his mind raced through the connections between their captivity and the facility raid. Someone who might have answers.

The rest of the council members stared at him.

Where is the woman who was pretending to be Nadine? Conall asked.