Page 19 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE S UNBURST P ACK COUNCIL chamber felt like a tribunal.

Nadine sat at the far end of the conference table, evidence boxes stacked before her.

The drive to Roswell that morning had been tense—Anders maintaining professional silence while she’d retrieved the materials from her safe deposit box, each piece of evidence another nail in what could be Conall’s coffin.

Now, facing the assembled pack leadership, she fought to maintain the clinical detachment that had kept her alive before—the distance Gregory had taught her to cultivate whenever faced with difficulties.

Malcolm and Larissa occupied their usual positions at the head of the table.

Anders stood near the computerized displays.

Sarah sat with Nick, while Una sat next to her, hovering like a bodyguard.

The elder pack members, Stephanie and Raymond Gonzales, representing traditional pack justice, had taken seats across from Sarah and Nick.

And there, on either side of Nadine, sat the Stewart twins.

Identical in every way that mattered—same dark hair, same strong jawlines, same brown eyes that seemed to see straight through her defenses.

But where Conall’s presence sent familiar electricity through her nervous system, Quinton remained a cipher, his emotions deliberately restrained.

Both of them watched her with the kind of attention that preceded either vindication or violence.

You called this meeting to present evidence regarding Gregory Torrance’s death, Malcolm said. We’re listening.

Nadine opened the first evidence box, forcing her hands to remain steady despite the magnitude of what she was about to reveal. Three weeks ago, I found my father’s body at the abandoned Aventura mine. What I discovered there points to a coordinated assassination.

She pulled out the first evidence bag—dark brown wolf fur, preserved in clear plastic. Shifter hair samples recovered from the crime scene. Two distinct scent signatures.

The bag passed around the table, each council member examining the contents with the enhanced senses that made scent evidence as reliable as fingerprints in human courts. When it reached Conall, his expression shifted subtly—surprise, followed by something that looked almost like recognition.

The scent matches, Anders confirmed grimly. Both Stewart twins were present at the scene.

That’s impossible, Quinton said flatly. We were never at that mine.

The evidence suggests otherwise, Nadine replied, producing the second bag. Scent markers from the scene, collected on fabric samples. Twin-specific scent trails leading away from Gregory’s body.

Conall took the bag containing his scent signature, and Nadine watched his nostrils flare as he inhaled. Something flickered across his face—confusion, maybe doubt. But he said nothing, passing the evidence to his brother.

As Quinton examined his own scent marker, Conall took his brother’s. And as he opened the bag and inhaled, Conall’s attention spiked. Through their developing bond, she felt his growing unease, though she couldn’t determine if it stemmed from false accusation or fear of discovery.

Scent evidence can degrade, Stephanie observed, her silver hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows. Lose specificity over time.

Which is why I mapped the trail immediately, Nadine said, unrolling a detailed topographical map. Red lines traced paths from the mine to Sunburst territory borders. The scent signatures led directly back to your pack lands.

The council members passed the map around, and she watched their expressions shift from skepticism to concern. Raymond studied the marked routes, his lips puckering as he peered at them closely. Una leaned in to examine the details, tracing the lines with one short fingernail.

Even if this is accurate, Nick said, it doesn’t prove intent. There could be other explanations.

There’s more, Nadine said, producing additional evidence bags. Blood samples from the scene. Gregory’s, obviously, but also trace amounts from someone else. Someone who was injured during the encounter.

Anders leaned forward, engaging with the forensic details. How much blood? What kind of injury pattern?

Not much blood. I’d guess defensive wounds, most likely. Probably deep enough to leave traces but not incapacitating. Nadine met Quinton’s gaze directly. The scent signature matches yours.

When were you last injured? Malcolm asked Quinton, authority underlying the seemingly casual question.

Quinton’s pause lasted a fraction too long. A few weeks ago. Training accident with some of the younger pack members. Nothing serious.

I was there, Anders said suddenly. The training session. I remember you saying you’d been injured, but I didn’t see it happen.

It was a private lesson, Quinton explained, his voice steady despite the growing scrutiny. Working with Dana and her siblings on defensive techniques. Dana’s claws caught me across the forearm.

Una nodded. I remember seeing you with bandages afterward. You said it was nothing worth mentioning.

Anders made a note on his tablet. I’ll speak with Dana about the incident. Get her perspective on what happened.

That meant Dana would have had access to Quinton’s blood during the training accident. Could she have been the one to plant evidence at Gregory’s death scene?

She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the remaining evidence.

Physical items left at the scene, she continued, producing a damaged access key card bearing a Sunburst Pack insignia. Abandoned during what appears to have been a hasty retreat.

Conall examined the glove with obvious recognition. That’s mine. Lost it during the move from the Old Packhouse to our new intelligence center. Couldn’t find it anywhere.

Convenient timing, Raymond observed, his tone neutral but his eyes dark with suspicion.

And this, Nadine said, pulling out the final piece of physical evidence. A patrol schedule with handwritten notes. Someone with insider knowledge marked optimal times for approaching Gregory undetected.

She watched the pack council’s expressions harden as they passed the map around the table, clearly recognizing the intelligence leak implications.

Someone inside Sunburst had been tracking Gregory’s movements, planning the optimal moment for elimination.

The circumstantial evidence supports a coordinated assault, she continued, pulling up crime scene photos on the intelligence display. Attack patterns consistent with twin tactics—synchronized approach, coordinated strikes, shared responsibility for the kill.

The photographs were brutal in their clinical detail. Paw prints in disturbed earth, scuff marks suggesting struggle, blood spatter indicating multiple attackers. Everything consistent with the Stewart twins’ legendary coordination.

None of this proves we did anything, Conall said, but his voice carried less conviction than his words.

Because we didn’t, Quinton added.

Then there’s this, Nadine said, producing her phone and playing the final piece of evidence.

Gregory’s voice filled the chamber, rough with pain and unmistakable paranoia: Nadine, if anything happens to me, check the Stewart twins. They’ve been asking too many questions, getting too close to things they shouldn’t know. If I’m found dead, they’re the ones who—

The message cut off abruptly, leaving behind a silence dense with implication.

That proves nothing except that Gregory was angry at our pack, Sarah said firmly. He was Vincent’s enforcer. We defeated his alpha and then banished Gregory. Of course he’d blame us for his exile.

It proves he specifically feared the Stewart twins, Una countered. Why single them out unless he had reason?

Because he was a paranoid bastard who couldn’t accept that Vincent’s reign was over, Nick shot back.

Nadine watched the developing argument with growing unease. The evidence was having exactly the effect she’d expected—dividing the pack against itself, forcing them to choose between loyalty and justice.

But something nagged at her about the scent evidence.

The sample supposedly from Conall carried undertones that didn’t quite match what she’d experienced during their close encounters, subtle differences in the way his natural musk mixed with pack scents.

Of course, these were small variations that could be explained by time and environmental degradation.

Or by careful manipulation.

What’s your assessment? Malcolm asked Larissa, cutting through the debate.

The circumstantial evidence is interesting but inconclusive, Larissa said. Gregory’s voicemail could be dismissed as paranoid rambling. But the physical evidence—the scent trails, the blood samples, the patrol schedule—that suggests insider knowledge and direct involvement.

Around the table, council members considered the evidence.

The evidence is damning, Una said. Scent trails, blood samples, physical items—this isn’t circumstantial anymore. We’re looking at a coordinated assassination carried out by pack members. Her gaze moved between the twins with obvious suspicion. People we trusted with our security.

That’s not evidence, it’s a collection of coincidences, Sarah said, shaking her head. Conall and Quinton have protected this pack their entire lives. They’ve bled for us, fought for us—

And maybe decided we weren’t worth protecting anymore, Raymond interrupted, his tone grim. Vincent’s regime corrupted good people before. Made them believe terrible things were necessary. Maybe Gregory offered them something they thought they needed.

Gregory was Vincent’s enforcer, Nick said firmly, his own protective instincts flaring. If anyone was corrupted by that regime, it was him. The Stewart twins helped install our current democratic leadership.