Page 21 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE NEXT MORNING, THE former newspaper office still smelled like old ink and fresh suspicion.

Nadine stood in the doorway leading into the basement, her fingers gripping the frame hard enough to leave marks in the wood.

The entire room had been turned into some kind of high-tech surveillance hub. Everything about this felt wrong—especially the way Conall moved through the space like he belonged here, the mate bond between them like an electric current she couldn’t cut.

Well? Underneath Conall’s voice lurked something Nadine couldn’t quite identify. Exhaustion, maybe. Or the same bone-deep weariness that had been eating at her for weeks.

Nadine stepped inside, letting the reinforced door swing shut behind her with a metallic thunk. The sound reminded her of prison doors, of places designed to keep secrets locked away from the world.

Remember, she said, this alliance doesn’t make us friends.

Wasn’t expecting it to.

She watched him move to one of the workstations and pulled up a chair, his broad shoulders tense beneath his shirt.

The display wall showed a complex web of connections—names, dates, locations, all linked by red lines that formed a pattern she was only beginning to understand.

Have a seat. Conall gestured at the other chairs. So what do you know about the other packs being targeted?

Nadine remained standing, arms crossed. More than you do, apparently.

His jaw tightened. This isn’t a pissing contest, Nadine. People could be dying.

The use of her name sent an unwelcome shiver through her. Coming from his lips, it sounded different.

She forced herself to focus on the wall display. The Blue Stone Pack in Colorado. Completely wiped out three weeks ago. Official report says rogue shifters, but the attack patterns were too coordinated. Too precise.

Conall’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. We haven’t heard anything about—

Because someone doesn’t want you to hear about it.

She moved closer to the display, close enough that his scent wrapped around her like smoke.

The Ruby Range Pack in Montana. Seven members are missing, including their alpha’s daughter.

The Creek Bend Pack in Arkansas—their entire leadership council dead in what looks like a hunting accident.

Jesus. Conall pulled up new windows on his screen, fingers flying across the keys. That’s a pattern.

No shit. Nadine watched him work, noting the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the efficient movement of his hands. Despite everything, he was good at this. Methodical. Thorough.

It pissed her off how attractive that was.

What else? he asked without looking up.

She hesitated. This was the part that made her vulnerable, that revealed how deep she’d gone down this particular rabbit hole.

But if they were going to do this—if she was going to trust him enough to share intelligence—she needed to give him something real.

The assets, she said finally. Chimera’s been placing them for decades. They’ve been mapping pack territories, infiltrating leadership structures, gathering intelligence on our weaknesses.

Conall’s hands stopped moving. How do you know all this?

Because, she said, her voice barely above a whisper, my mother was one of them.

The silence that followed felt heavy enough to crush her.

So the story you told me before—you lied?

Partially.

Explain. Conall’s voice had gone neutral, the way people talked when they were trying not to spook a wounded animal.

Nadine turned back to face him, leaning against the windowsill. My mother, Lucy, wasn’t a human. She was a shifter, an asset placed in the Red Canyon Pack when she was nineteen. Her mission was to gather intelligence on pack alliances in the Southwest. She was very good at her job.

But something went wrong.

She fell in love. The words tasted sour in her mouth. With the pack’s beta. My father—my real father. Marcus Torrance.

Conall’s eyebrows shot up. Torrance? But Gregory—

Is Marcus’s younger brother. Nadine’s laugh held no humor. Lucy got pregnant with me, and suddenly Chimera had a problem. They couldn’t extract her without blowing her cover, but a pregnant asset was a liability.

She began pacing the small space. The movement helped, gave her something to do with the restless energy that talking about this always brought up.

So they waited. Let her have the baby—let her have me. Then they killed Marcus and made it look like a challenge gone wrong. Lucy was supposed to disappear after that, but…

But she didn’t.

She ran. Took me and ran as far as she could get. Nadine stopped pacing, facing Conall directly. It wasn’t far enough.

What happened to her?

The rest of what I told you was true, basically. She died in a car wreck—manufactured by Chimera. Gregory tracked me down, took me in, raised me off the shifter grid.

Why?

He wanted to use me as an assassin. He trained me, gave me resources, pointed me toward targets. All of them connected to Chimera. All of them so he could save shifter kids. Or so he told me. Her voice grew quieter. I believed him. I wanted to believe him.

Because he was the only family you had left.

Show me what you have on your pack’s asset recovery mission, she said.

Conall hesitated for a moment, then pulled up a new set of files. We’ve identified five assets so far. Etta—she was placed here in Sunburst. Had her memories suppressed, a neural interface installed. We got her out, but it was difficult.

Nadine studied the medical reports, the photos of the neural interface before and after removal. The technology was more advanced than she’d expected, more invasive.

I’ve seen these interfaces before.

Where?

My mother had one. She managed to disable it somehow, but I remember the scars. Nadine traced a finger along the edge of the screen, following the technical schematics. This is how they manipulated the assets. Not just memory suppression—behavioral modification. Emotional manipulation.

Right. We learned that from Etta. And it means anyone could be compromised. We really do need to combine what we know, Conall said. Your intelligence about the other attacks, my knowledge of pack politics and territory. If we’re going to figure out who’s really behind this—

Nadine nodded curtly and moved to the chair beside him. Close enough to see his screen clearly, far enough to maintain some semblance of professional distance.

Or so she told herself.

The moment she sat down, the mate bond flared between them like a struck match. Her wolf responded to his proximity with an enthusiasm that made her teeth clench.

Conall’s scent seemed stronger here, cutting through the other smells in the converted office. She found herself breathing deeper without conscious thought, her body betraying her in ways that made her want to snarl.

Start with the timeline, she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. When did you first notice unusual activity?

Conall pulled up a calendar view, dates marked in different colors. After Vincent died and Malcolm and Larissa took over.

Nadine leaned closer to study the timeline, her shoulder brushing against his. The contact sent a shock down her arm, and she saw him tense in response.

Ignore it , she told herself. Focus on the job .

These dates, she said, pointing to a series of entries marked in blue. They correspond to attacks on other packs. Look—Ruby Range was hit two days after your security breach here.

Conall’s fingers moved across the keyboard, cross-referencing data. And Creek Bend three days after that. Someone was coordinating these attacks based on intelligence from multiple sources.

Not just intelligence. Operational support. Let me pull down my files and I can show you.

Conall leaned across her, typing on the keyboard at her terminal, and Nadine had to fight not to move even closer, to touch him.

When he was done, Nadine pulled up her own files, her movements quick and precise, saving them in the shared folder Conall had set up. The weapons used in the Blue Stone attack were specialized. Military grade, designed specifically for shifters. Not something you pick up at the local gun shop.

They worked in focused silence for the next hour, building a comprehensive picture of the conspiracy that had been growing around them. Nadine found herself falling into a rhythm with Conall, their different approaches complementing each other in ways that surprised her.

He was thorough where she was intuitive, methodical where she was creative. When she’d point out a pattern in the data, he’d dig deeper to find the supporting evidence. When he’d get bogged down in details, she’d step back and see the bigger picture.

It was effective. More effective than she wanted to admit.

There, Conall said, highlighting a series of connections on the display wall. That’s our answer. Look at the communication patterns.

Nadine studied the web of lines and nodes, her mind working to process the implications.

All the attacks were coordinated from a central command structure.

Someone with access to intelligence from multiple packs, with the resources to deploy paramilitary teams, with detailed knowledge of shifter physiology and pack dynamics.

Someone inside the shifter community but working for Chimera.

An activated asset, maybe? Conall suggested.

Slowly, Nadine nodded. Maybe. But it would have to be one with connections to multiple packs.

She felt him watching her for a long moment before he turned back to his computer.

The remaining assets, Conall said eventually. If we can find them before Chimera activates whatever they’re planning—

The Omicron Protocol. Nadine pulled up encrypted files she’d never shared with anyone. I might’ve had the name wrong, but I’ve been tracking their plan for months, since before Gregory died. It’s not just about the assets—it’s about triggering a war between all the major packs. Mutual destruction.

Using the assets as catalysts.

Exactly. Create enough chaos, enough mistrust, and the packs will tear each other apart. No need for Chimera to get their hands dirty.

Conall was quiet for a long moment, processing the implications. How long do we have?

Based on the acceleration of attacks over the past month? Maybe two weeks. Less if they decide to move the timeline up.

The mate bond vibrated between them, stronger now than it had been even the night before. Nadine could feel it pulling at her, trying to break down the walls she’d built around her heart.

It would be so easy to let it happen, to stop fighting the connection that her wolf craved.

So easy, and so very stupid .

Conall reached out, his fingers brushing against her hand where it rested on the desk. The contact sent fire racing up her arm, and his pupils dilated in response.

Nadine stared down at their joined hands, at the way his fingers seemed to fit perfectly against hers. Everything about this was wrong—the timing, the circumstances.

But the warmth of his touch felt real in a way nothing had for years.

This is a bad idea, she said.

Probably. His thumb traced across her knuckles, a gentle caress that made her breath catch.

She looked up to find him watching her, his dark eyes intent. The space between them seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with possibility and want and the dangerous pull of the bond they were both trying to resist.

She should pull away. Should remind him that they were supposed to be investigating. Should do anything except lean closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

This doesn’t change anything, she whispered.

Doesn’t it?

His free hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing across her lower lip. The contact made her wolf surge forward, demanding she close the distance between them, demanding she take what the mate bond was offering.

We still don’t trust each other, she managed to say.

No, he agreed, his voice rough with want. But we’re fighting the same fight.

For now.

They hovered there for a long moment, neither leaning in and allowing their lips to meet nor drawing away.

Then Conall’s cell phone rang, and he pulled back from Nadine, glancing down at the screen before he answered. Hey, Malcolm.

From her seat next to Conall, Nadine could hear the alpha as he responded. You and Nadine need to come upstairs. William Chen just arrived, and he’s got some things to tell us.