Page 35 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

Several hours, minimum. Neural interface technology leaves electromagnetic residue, but the signatures fade over time.

We’re looking for patterns, anomalies, anything that suggests recent activation.

Chen gestured toward the now empty storage unit.

Given what you’ve found here, I suspect we’ll discover more than we bargained for.

As if summoned by his words, the scanner in her hands began emitting the rapid beeps that indicated a strong neural interface signature.

Dr. Chen’s scanner beeped ominously as Nadine swept it across a hidden compartment in Gregory’s storage unit.

Every minute spent unraveling her father’s lies led to something new—and each revelation was worse than the last.

The neural interface signature is wrong, Chen announced, his tone confused. These readings don’t match someone who died three weeks ago.

Ice formed in Nadine’s veins. What do you mean?

Neural interfaces leave specific electromagnetic residue when the subject dies. The technology burns out, creating distinctive decay signatures. Chen held up his scanner. This suggests the interface was deliberately deactivated, not destroyed by death.

Does that mean Gregory is still alive? she whispered.

More than alive, Chen continued, examining equipment hidden beneath false flooring. Communication devices, recent manufacture. Someone’s been coordinating with outside contacts from this location within weeks.

Nadine sank onto a storage crate, scanner forgotten in trembling hands. Weeks of grief, of hunting his supposed killers, of building her entire sense of justice around avenging his death—all based on elaborate lies.

Why fake his own death? The question came out barely audible.

Conall’s hand settled on her shoulder. We’ll figure this out. If he really is alive, whatever Gregory’s planning—

He’s eliminating loose ends, she said sharply, standing abruptly. Gregory played all sides—Vincent’s enforcer, Chimera’s asset, whatever other games he was running. But his daughter knowing the truth? His daughter bonded to a Sunburst enforcer? That’s a vulnerability he can’t afford.

He wouldn’t hurt you, Conall said, though uncertainty bled through their bond. You’re his daughter.

Am I? Or was I just another asset to be used when convenient and discarded when dangerous?

Chen cleared his throat. There’s more. Communication logs show coordination with multiple contacts. Financial transactions, supply requisitions, personnel movements. This isn’t someone in hiding—this is someone actively running operations.

What kind of operations? Conall asked grimly.

Chen pulled up files on his tablet. Intelligence gathering on pack territories, asset placement protocols, and detailed surveillance reports on Sunburst Pack security measures. Recent reports.

The world tilted. Nadine gripped the storage crate edge, fighting nausea. He’s been watching us. Planning something.

They cataloged Gregory’s hidden files—bank accounts in multiple names, safe houses across three states, communication protocols with unidentified contacts. The infrastructure of someone planning his exit strategy long before his supposed death.

But the personnel files made Nadine’s wolf pace with killing intent. Detailed psychological profiles on current Sunburst Pack members. Behavioral analyses. Relationship dynamics.

Gregory didn’t gather this himself, she said, spreading profiles across a makeshift table. This is real-time intelligence. Someone’s been feeding him information.

Conall’s shock rippled through their bond. The traitor we’ve been looking for. They’re working for Gregory.

Nadine cross-referenced intelligence reports with pack personnel records. Financial records show regular payments to a shell company. The timing corresponds to intelligence reports about pack security protocols. Someone with guardian access has been selling information.

She pulled up additional files. Communication logs show regular contact between Gregory and someone using the code name ‘Twin Star.’ The financial payments track to the same source.

That could be anyone, Conall said, uncertainty bleeding through their bond.

Except the timing corresponds exactly to Quinton’s duty shifts. Perimeter security assignments, communication monitoring—intelligence flowed to Gregory within hours.

Each piece of evidence built an undeniable pattern. Through the mate bond, she felt Conall’s growing distress, his desperate need for alternative explanations.

You think Quinton is the traitor, he said, words flat and terrible.

The evidence points to someone with his access and opportunity, she replied. Someone who’s been systematically compromising pack security.

No. The denial was absolute. Quinton would never betray the pack. Never betray me.

Look at the financial records, she said, trying to keep emotion from her voice. The communications. The timing. Either Quinton is involved, or someone wants it to appear that way.

Someone like Gregory, Conall said, searching for alternatives. Driving a wedge between us, weakening pack unity.

Maybe, she said, though doubt colored her voice. Or maybe the twin bond made it easy for Gregory to identify the perfect inside source.

The accusation hung like a loaded weapon. She felt Conall’s shock give way to anger—not just at her conclusions, but at her willingness to voice them.

You’re wrong, he said, voice quiet. The fact that you’d even consider this shows how little you understand pack loyalty.

The words stung. I understand loyalty. I also understand evidence.

Evidence can be fabricated to support predetermined conclusions. His dark eyes met hers with uncomfortable intensity. Especially when the person analyzing has spent months hunting specific targets.

Her wolf bristled. You think I’m manufacturing evidence against your brother?

I think you see what you want to see, he replied. You’ve been convinced someone in the pack betrayed your father. Maybe you’re so invested in that narrative you’re willing to sacrifice anyone to maintain it.

The accusation wasn’t just cruel. It carried an underlying message: He didn’t trust her judgment.

Get out, she said quietly.

Nadine—

Get out. Take your protective instincts and blind loyalty and get away from me.

He stared, the mate bond carrying hurt and confusion. But she also felt his certainty—his absolute conviction she was wrong about Quinton.

This isn’t over, he said finally.

Yes, it is. She turned away. We’re done. The investigation, the partnership, all of it. I’ll handle Gregory myself.

Like hell you will.

You don’t get to make that choice for me. You don’t get to protect me from consequences when you won’t acknowledge the evidence.

The evidence is wrong, he said with stubborn certainty. I won’t let you walk into a trap based on faulty conclusions.

The evidence is inconvenient. There’s a difference.

Chen cleared his throat awkwardly. Perhaps we should return to the compound—

No, Nadine said firmly. I’m done discussing. Done pretending pack politics matter more than truth.

She began gathering Gregory’s files with methodical precision, movements sharp with repressed anger. Conall’s growing alarm rippled through their bond as he recognized her intentions.

What are you doing?

What I should have done from the beginning. Handling family business myself.

Don’t make me choose between my mate and my twin, he said, meeting her gaze with challenging intensity.

Through the bond, she felt his recognition—he would choose Quinton over her, choose his shared identity with his twin over mere weeks of connection with her.

It doesn’t have to be a choice, he said, voice lacking conviction.

It already is. And you’ve already made it.

She shouldered the evidence bag. When she headed for the exit, Conall blocked her path.

I won’t let you face Gregory alone.

Get out of my way.

No.

She noted his relaxed vigilance, then moved with predatory grace. The pressure point strike to his neck was precise—enough to drop him without permanent damage.

He crumpled, consciousness fading. Through their bond, she felt his shock and betrayal, his desperate attempt to call her name.

I’m sorry, she whispered, kneeling beside him briefly. But you’d never let me do what needs to be done.

Chen stared with alarm. What did you—

Pressure point manipulation. He’ll be unconscious for an hour. She stood, shouldering the bag. Tell him I kept my promise. I’m not running from what we are—I’m protecting it.

The drive back to Sunburst territory passed in weighted silence. Each mile brought clarity about the choices ahead.

Gregory was alive, planning something requiring elimination of his daughter and her mate. Using a pack insider for intelligence. And Conall would never believe evidence against his twin.

At the apartment, she gathered her few possessions—the coffee mug Conall had given her, a spare jacket carrying his scent, a photograph from the pack gathering Sarah had printed. Evidence of the life she might have built.

She left the photograph on the kitchen table with a note:

Conall—

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. The evidence about Quinton is in the storage unit. Gregory is alive and planning something threatening the pack. I won’t let him use our connection to hurt innocent people.

I’m going to end this. Not because I don’t trust you to help, but because I can’t watch you choose between your mate and your twin. You shouldn’t have to make that choice.

The mate bond was real. What we built was real. Remember that.

Don’t follow me. Take care of your pack. Take care of your brother—whatever his involvement, he’s still family.

—N

The mate bond flickered as Conall began regaining consciousness. Nadine closed her eyes, feeling his presence one last time before doing what was necessary.

Then she closed the bond.

Not permanently, but enough to create psychic distance keeping him from tracking her. The separation felt like tearing away part of her soul, but it was necessary. For his protection. For the pack’s safety.

She drove east into gathering darkness, following intelligence leads toward the confrontation she’d been avoiding. Behind her, Sunburst territory fell away into memory, carrying the only chance at happiness she’d found.

Through the fading connection, she felt his moment of awakening, his shock at being alone, his desperate reach for their bond finding only barriers.

I’m sorry , she projected before closing it completely. But this is the only way .

The mate bond went silent, leaving her truly alone. The silence felt like death, like losing a vital organ.

But it was the price of keeping him safe.

Some choices had to be made alone. Some family business could only be settled by the people who’d created the problem.

Gregory wanted to eliminate threats to his operation?

Let him try .

He was about to learn exactly what his daughter had become—and exactly how much she was willing to sacrifice to protect the people she’d learned to love.

Even if it meant doing it alone.