Page 18 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE SILENCE IN THE meeting room stretched too long, and Conall’s instincts screamed that something was wrong.

We should question her again, he said, now that we know about these operatives.

The look that passed between Malcolm and Larissa twisted into his gut.

She escaped, Larissa said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of bad news delivered with professional calm. Sometime after midnight. Guards found her cell empty during the three-a.m. security check.

Escaped how? Conall’s voice sharpened. A secured holding cell didn’t just accidentally release its occupant.

Lock picked from the inside, Anders replied, his expression grim. Professional work. Either she had tools we missed during intake, or—

Or someone helped her, Malcolm finished.

Conall’s stomach dropped. The woman who’d impersonated Nadine—who’d accused him and Quinton of murder with such convincing detail—had vanished into the night. The pack might indeed have a traitor in their ranks.

Beside him, Conall felt Nadine’s reaction through the mate bond—a hot spike of vindication mixed with fear.

Her suspicions about pack infiltration had just gained credibility in the worst possible way.

When did you discover Conall was missing? she asked, her voice almost toneless despite the tension radiating from her.

Quinton stepped forward, and his twin’s managed facade cracked. When he didn’t return from patrol. When his radio went silent and his scent trail led to that ravine where you ambushed him.

The accusation in Quinton’s voice cut deeper than it should have.

Through their twin connection, Conall felt the anxiety and worry beneath the anger—the terror that had consumed his brother when he’d realized Conall was gone.

We thought she’d taken you, Quinton continued, his dark eyes boring into Nadine with barely contained hostility. Thought maybe she’d killed you, left your body somewhere in the desert for the scavengers.

Guilt shuddered through Conall’s chest like a physical pain.

In following the mate bond, in pursuing his desperate need to find Nadine, he’d put his twin through hell. Had made Quinton fear the worst while he was unconscious in that concrete cell—until the drug had finally worn off entirely.

Quin— he started.

No. His twin’s voice cracked with emotion he rarely showed. Do you have any idea what it was like? Feeling our connection just stop? Not knowing if you were alive or dead?

The raw pain in Quinton’s voice made Conall’s inner wolf whine with distress.

They’d never been separated like that before, never had their connection severed so abruptly. What Conall had experienced as drug-induced unconsciousness, Quinton had felt as devastating silence.

I’m sorry, Conall said quietly, meaning it more than any apology he’d ever given. I never meant to worry you. Any of you.

But even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren’t entirely true. Because given the choice again—faced with the mate bond’s insistent pull toward Nadine—he would have made the same decision.

The realization terrified him almost as much as it had clearly terrified his twin.

Would you have done anything differently? Quinton asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet that preceded either violence or devastation. If you’d known what it would cost?

Around the table, pack members watched the exchange with varying degrees of discomfort, witnessing a fracture in what had always been the most solid relationship in their community.

Conall met his twin’s gaze directly, seeing his own features reflected back at him—identical in every way except for the hurt and betrayal that had taken root in Quinton’s expression.

I don’t know, he admitted.

Something shattered behind Quinton’s eyes.

Right, he said flatly, taking a step back. The physical distance felt like a chasm opening between them. Good to know where your priorities lie.

That’s not fair—

Isn’t it? Quinton’s laugh was dry, splintered, and not at all amused. You disappeared without a word, Conall. Left me to wonder if I’d lost the only family I’ve ever known. And now you’re telling me you might do it again.

The mate bond pulsed with Nadine’s discomfort at being the cause of their conflict, but Conall couldn’t find words to reassure either her or his twin. Because Quinton was right—the mate bond had changed his priorities in ways he was still struggling to understand.

Enough. Malcolm’s alpha voice cut through the tension. We don’t have time for this. There’s a security breach in our pack, unknown operatives targeting our people, and a murder that needs investigating.

The coalpha’s gaze swept the room, making contact with every pack member present. Personal conflicts will have to wait until the immediate threats are neutralized.

Larissa leaned forward, already moving past the interpersonal drama to strategic considerations.

Anders was already putting together a team to track the false Nadine before we knew about the broader conspiracy.

Now that we understand she’s connected to these operatives, finding her becomes even more critical.

She could lead us to whoever’s behind all this, Nadine added, speaking for the first time since Quinton’s emotional outburst. Her voice was professional, but Conall could feel her guilt through the bond. She blamed herself for the rift between the twins.

Exactly, Anders nodded. Which is why your investigation into Gregory’s death and our search for the impostor need to be coordinated. She clearly had detailed information about his murder—information that could only have come from someone who was there.

Malcolm’s expression hardened. If that’s true, if Gregory’s death is connected to these broader attacks on the packs, then we’re not just hunting a murderer. We’re looking at a conspiracy to destabilize the entire shifter community.

What had started as a simple murder investigation had evolved into something far more dangerous—a threat to everything they’d built, everything they’d sworn to protect.

We’ll need to move carefully, Larissa said. If there is a traitor in the pack, if someone helped the false Nadine escape, then traditional security protocols may be compromised.

Which means the investigation team needs to be small, Anders concluded. Limited to people we absolutely trust.

His gaze moved to Conall and Nadine. You two will handle Gregory’s death and the connection to these operatives. I’ll lead a separate team to track the impostor’s escape route, see if we can pick up her trail.

Coordination will be key, Malcolm agreed. But we keep the details compartmentalized. No one outside the investigation teams knows what we’re really looking for.

Quinton shifted position, and Conall felt his twin’s struggle through their bond—the desire to be involved warring with his current anger and hurt.

What about Quinton? Conall asked, voicing the question his twin was too proud to ask.

I’ll be fine, Quinton said curtly. Clearly you don’t need a partner anymore.

The words stung. In the space of a few days, the mate bond had done what nothing else in their lives had managed—it had driven a wedge between them that felt impossible to bridge.

You’ll be working with my team, Anders said to Quinton, his tone gentle but firm. We need your tracking skills to follow the impostor’s trail.

It was a diplomatic solution—keeping the twins separated while ensuring both felt useful. But it did nothing to address the fundamental rift that had opened between them. They’d always worked as a unit, had never been assigned to separate missions.

Malcolm and Larissa exchanged one of those silent communications that came with their coalpha bond.

Conall felt a stab of something that might have been envy—the easy understanding, the seamless coordination.

Everything he’d thought he had with Quinton before the mate bond had complicated everything between them.

Anders, Malcolm decided, you and Nadine will retrieve the evidence first thing tomorrow morning.

I could handle the drive myself, Nadine said quickly, having apparently been considering her options.

Not happening. Anders cut her off, his tone carrying the same authority that made even alphas listen. We don’t know if any of Gregory’s associates are watching the bank, waiting for you to return. You go alone, you’re walking into a potential ambush.

Through the mate bond, Conall felt Nadine’s flash of irritation at being protected, followed immediately by her recognition that Anders was right. Professional assessment overriding personal independence.

Two hours to Roswell, maybe three if we hit traffic, Anders continued, already shifting into planning mode. We leave at dawn, secure the evidence, and return by noon.

Nick, Larissa cut in, set up the guest apartment for Ms. Torrance, please. Nadine, it’s above the Sunburst Diner. You’ll be safe there.

Everyone else, Malcolm added, enhanced security protocols remain in effect. We have enemies moving against us, but we don’t know who or why. Stay alert.

Conall watched Nadine absorb the arrangements being made around her, noting the way she tracked every detail while maintaining an emotional distance. Still thinking like someone who might need to run at a moment’s notice.

The council will reconvene at two p.m., Larissa announced. Once we have the full scope of evidence, we can properly assess the threat and coordinate our response.

When do Conall and I start our investigation? Nadine asked.

After the council meeting, Malcolm replied. Every hour we delay gives the conspiracy more time to cover their tracks, eliminate witnesses, and carry out whatever they’re planning. But we need to understand what we’re really dealing with before we commit resources.

Conall found himself nodding, though part of him chafed at the delay. The mate bond whispered urgency—find Gregory’s killers, eliminate the threat to Nadine, protect what mattered most. But the logical part of his mind recognized the wisdom in Malcolm’s approach.

Going off half-informed was how good people got killed.

Tomorrow, then, Conall said, his gaze finding Nadine’s across the room. And we will get justice for your father.

Something flickered in her expression—surprise, maybe, at his certainty. Or perhaps recognition that he truly meant it, that her quest for answers had become his as well?

Malcolm and Larissa stood, signaling the council’s dismissal.

As the meeting began to break up, pack members filing out to return to their duties, Conall found himself caught between conflicting impulses.

His wolf wanted to follow Nadine, to ensure her safety in unfamiliar territory.

His human half knew she needed space to process everything that had happened.

And underneath both ran the growing awareness that his relationship with Quinton needed attention before it fractured completely.

As if drawn by Conall’s thoughts of him, Quinton approached Conall one last time.

His twin’s presence felt different now—familiar but somehow foreign, like looking at his reflection through rippled water.

This is a mistake, Quinton said without preamble. She’s going to destroy us.

Probably .

The mate bond was already fracturing the foundation of everything Conall had built his life on.

Maybe, he agreed. But it’s my mistake to make. His words cut through thirty years of shared identity. For the first time in their lives, they were truly separate. Truly alone.

Be careful, Quinton said quietly, his anger temporarily set aside in favor of genuine concern. I know you think you can trust her, but—

She’s not the enemy, Conall interrupted.

Maybe not, Quinton conceded. But she’s changing you. Changing us. And I don’t know if that’s for the better.

With that, his twin walked away, leaving Conall standing beside Nadine in the suddenly empty meeting room. The silence stretched between them, loaded with everything they hadn’t said, everything they couldn’t acknowledge.

He’s right, you know, Nadine said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. I am changing things between you.

Some things need to change.

She turned to look at him directly, her gaze searching his face for something he wasn’t sure he was ready to reveal. Do they? Or are we just telling ourselves that because it’s easier than fighting what’s happening between us?

Conall didn’t know anymore. Didn’t know where the mate bond ended and his own choices began. Didn’t know if he was following his heart or just following biology.

All he knew was that standing here beside her felt right in a way that defied logic. And walking away—returning to the simple, uncomplicated life he’d lived before she’d slammed her way into it—felt impossible.

You realize this changes nothing, she said when he didn’t answer. Working together doesn’t make us allies. It doesn’t mean I trust you.

I know. But it’s a start.

She studied him for a long moment. A start to what?

A start to understanding each other. A start to working past the barriers between them. A start to something that might eventually resemble the partnership the mate bond insisted they were meant to have.

No. That truth was too complicated, too dangerous to voice aloud.

A start to finding your father’s killer, he said instead.

She nodded, apparently satisfied with the partial truth. Then we begin tomorrow. And, Conall? She paused in the doorway, not quite looking back at him. Your brother doesn’t trust me. That could be a problem.

The understatement of the century.

Quinton’s suspicion had been written across his face in letters ten feet tall.

The twin bond that had always been Conall’s anchor now felt like a chain, holding him back from something he wasn’t sure he wanted but couldn’t seem to resist.

I’ll handle Quinton, he said.

Will you? Her smile was sharp. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re choosing between us. And we both know how that choice has to end.

Come on, he said finally, pushing aside questions that had no easy answers. Let’s go find your father’s real killer.

Because despite everything—the problems with Quinton, the danger, the suspicion, the impossible situation he’d stumbled into—Conall found himself looking forward to tomorrow.

To working with Nadine.