Page 20 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

Stephanie shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her silver hair catching the afternoon light.

I’ve watched these boys grow up, she said slowly.

Watched them learn to fight, to protect, to put pack needs before personal desires.

She paused, studying the twins with eyes that had seen decades of pack politics.

But I’ve also seen what desperation can do to good people. What fear can drive them to justify.

You think we’re capable of murder? Quinton asked, his voice measured despite the obvious strain.

I think you’re capable of anything you believe serves the greater good, Stephanie replied honestly. The question is whether you believed Gregory’s death served that purpose.

Anders cleared his throat, drawing attention with his characteristic precision.

From a security perspective, he said, clearly processing implications, if the Stewart twins have been compromised, it represents a massive intelligence breach.

They’ve had access to patrol schedules, strategic planning, alliance communications—everything an enemy would need to systematically undermine our operations.

You’re talking about them like they’re already convicted, Sarah protested, her voice tight with emotion.

I’m talking about them like they’re a potential security risk, Anders corrected, though not unkindly. Which they are, based on this evidence. Whether that risk stems from deliberate betrayal or external manipulation, the operational concerns remain the same.

Una nodded approvingly. Finally, someone’s thinking practically. If they killed Gregory, what else might they have done? What other operations might they have compromised?

If, Nick emphasized. That’s a big word you’re all ignoring. If they’re guilty. But what if they’re not? What if this evidence was planted by the real killer to frame them?

Then why haven’t they offered an alternative explanation? Raymond asked pointedly. Where were they when Gregory died? What can they tell us about how their scents ended up at a crime scene they claim never to have visited?

The questions hung in the air, and Nadine watched the twins exchange a look that carried decades of shared communication. Through her developing bond with Conall, she felt his growing desperation—not just at the accusations, but at his inability to provide satisfactory answers.

Go over our movements for that time period, Conall said finally. You’ll find only routine patrols, training sessions, administrative duties. Nothing that would explain how our scent signatures ended up at the mine.

Which is exactly what you’d say if you were guilty, Una pointed out.

And exactly what they’d say if they were innocent, Sarah countered.

Stephanie raised a hand for calm, her elder authority commanding attention. What troubles me, she said thoughtfully, isn’t the presence of evidence—it’s the convenience of it. Scent trails that lead directly back to our territory? Personal items ‘accidentally’ left behind? It feels orchestrated.

Or it feels like killers who got sloppy, Raymond replied grimly. Maybe they didn’t expect Gregory to fight back. Maybe they left more traces than intended.

The scent evidence bothers me most, Anders admitted, his analytical mind working through the forensic details. It’s extensive but degraded. Old enough to have lost specificity but fresh enough to maintain identifiable characteristics. That’s a very narrow window.

What are you suggesting? Malcolm asked.

I’m suggesting that someone with sophisticated knowledge of shifter forensics would know exactly how to plant scent evidence to make it appear legitimate while obscuring any details that might reveal manipulation.

Una’s expression hardened. Or someone with access to the twins’ personal items could have created false scent trails using authentic biological markers.

That would require someone very close to us, Sarah said, her voice carrying growing alarm. Someone with intimate access to our living spaces, our belongings.

Someone like a pack member with guardian access, Raymond observed darkly.

If the evidence had been planted, it suggested a level of infiltration and betrayal that went far beyond the twins’ potential guilt.

This is getting us nowhere, Larissa said, cutting through the increasingly heated debate. We’re speculating about possibilities instead of focusing on facts.

The facts suggest the Stewart twins killed Gregory Torrance, Una said firmly.

The facts suggest someone wants us to believe that, Nick said with equal conviction.

Stephanie looked between the warring factions with obvious concern. What the facts suggest, she said slowly, is that we have a serious problem. Whether it’s guilt or conspiracy, betrayal or manipulation, someone in the pack isn’t who they appear to be.

In the silence that followed, the twins themselves remained unmoving, their identical features revealing nothing of their internal reactions.

But through her developing bond with Conall, Nadine felt his anxiety like a live wire.

The mate bond whispered that Nadine should trust him, that Conall was incapable of the kind of betrayal the evidence suggested. But she’d learned not to trust biology over evidence, not to let emotional connections override logical analysis.

There’s enough here to warrant further investigation, Malcolm decided finally. But nothing that proves guilt beyond reasonable doubt.

The question, Larissa said, is how we proceed. If there’s a traitor in the pack, we need to identify them. But we can’t tear ourselves apart based on circumstantial evidence.

I have a proposal, Anders said, setting down his tablet. Continue the investigation with Nadine as primary analyst. She has the expertise to interpret the evidence objectively. But pair her with someone who understands pack dynamics, who can provide context for the intelligence.

You’re suggesting I work with one of the people I’m investigating? Nadine asked.

I’m suggesting you work with Conall, Anders replied. If he’s innocent, his cooperation will help clear his name. If he’s guilty, working closely with him might reveal additional evidence.

The proposal hit Nadine like cold water. Spend extended time with Conall, fighting the mate bond’s insistence that he was innocent while gathering evidence that might damn him?

Every instinct screamed that it was a trap—for either her objectivity or her safety.

But it was also the fastest way to determine the truth.

Are you willing? Malcolm asked, his gaze moving between Nadine and Conall.

She studied Conall’s face, searching for tells that might reveal guilt or innocence. His dark eyes met hers steadily, carrying emotions she couldn’t quite interpret through their developing connection.

Fear, certainly. But fear of discovery or fear of false conviction?

I’m willing to find the truth, she said finally. Whatever that truth might be.

Malcolm nodded approvingly. Then you’ll begin working together tomorrow morning. Full access to pack resources, complete investigative authority. Find out what really happened to Gregory Torrance.

As the meeting dispersed, council members filing out with expressions ranging from anger to concern to satisfaction, Nadine remained seated. The evidence boxes surrounded her like accusations, each piece another weight pressing down on her chest.

Conall lingered as well, his presence both comforting and terrifying.

Through their bond, she felt his complex emotions—gratitude for her willingness to investigate rather than simply condemn, fear of what that investigation might reveal, and something deeper that might have been—what? Tenderness? Affection?

Or the world’s most sophisticated manipulation.

Thank you, he said quietly once they were alone. For giving me a chance to prove my innocence.

I’m not giving you anything except honest investigation, she replied, standing to pack away the evidence. If you’re innocent, the truth will clear you. If you’re guilty…

She didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t voice the possibility that she might be falling for her father’s killer, that every protective instinct their growing mate bond triggered might be directed toward someone who deserved her hatred instead of her love.

I know, Conall said, understanding the unspoken threat. And I know this is hard for you. Investigating someone you’re beginning to care about.

I don’t care about you, she said automatically.

Don’t you? His smile was sad, gentle. Because the mate bond works both ways. I can feel your conflict, your fear that you’re being manipulated by biology into protecting someone who might be your enemy.

That’s exactly why this investigation is necessary, she said, forcing steel into her voice. To determine whether what’s developing between us is genuine or just elaborate manipulation.

And if it’s genuine? If the evidence points to someone else?

Hope colored his question, carried through their bond with an intensity that made her chest tight.

Then we’ll deal with that when it happens. But don’t expect me to ignore evidence just because it’s inconvenient for… She waved her hand between them. For whatever this is.

I wouldn’t want you to. Conall stepped closer, and her wolf shivered at his proximity as his voice dropped to a whisper. I want you to trust the truth, whatever that truth might be.

Then he stepped away, leaving her inner wolf feeling oddly bereft.

As he left her alone with the evidence that might destroy him, Nadine found herself hoping desperately that the truth would set them both free rather than tear them apart.

But in her experience, the truth was rarely that kind.