Page 36 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE STORAGE UNIT FELT like a tomb when Conall finally dragged himself back to consciousness. His neck throbbed where Nadine had struck the pressure point with surgical precision.

His memory came crashing back.

The evidence. Gregory’s deception. Nadine’s analysis pointing toward Quinton.

The way she’d looked at him when he’d refused to accept her conclusions—like he was choosing willful blindness over truth.

He groped in his mind for the mate bond.

Silent.

Where is she? he demanded, struggling to his feet.

Gone. Concern threaded through Dr. Chen’s voice. She said she was keeping her promise—not running from what you are but protecting it.

Conall reached for the mate bond again and found only static.

Somehow, she’d severed their connection.

The evidence? he asked, noting the missing files.

She took it. Everything pertaining to Gregory’s operations. Chen began packing his equipment. But what she found about the pack traitor—

Is wrong. The denial came automatically, even as doubt gnawed at him. Quinton would never betray the pack.

Chen’s silence was damning.

The drive back to Sunburst territory passed in growing certainty that everything was crumbling. Nadine’s evidence was thorough, professional, devastating. Financial records, communication logs, intelligence reports tracking perfectly with Quinton’s duty shifts.

She was right. On some level, he’d known it even as he’d denied it.

At the compound, he found Quinton at the communications station, managing information flow between allied packs. To any observer, Quinton looked dedicated—focused, efficient, committed to pack security.

But now Conall saw the performance. The careful questions eliciting sensitive information. The slight delays in relaying communications. The way his eyes tracked certain data with more than professional interest.

Con, Quinton said without looking up. Thank God you’re back. Moonstone Pack is under assault, Ruby Range has gone dark, coordinated strikes against six territories.

Quinton already knew all this. Had probably known it was coming.

Where’s Nadine? The casual disdain in his voice, the way he said her name like it tasted bitter—all of it took on new meaning.

She’s gone. Left to handle family business.

Relief flickered across Quinton’s face, quickly suppressed. Probably for the best. We need to focus on pack security, not chase unstable assets with daddy issues.

The words were calculated to wound, to dismiss Nadine as irrelevant. But they revealed Quinton’s eagerness to see her gone.

We found evidence of Gregory’s deception, Conall said, watching carefully. Financial records, communication logs.

Quinton’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second—barely perceptible, but Conall was hypersensitive to his twin’s tells.

What kind of evidence?

The kind proving he’s been working with someone inside the pack. Someone with access to our protocols, codes, schedules. Conall moved closer. Someone who’s been selling us out.

That’s impossible. Everyone here is loyal—

But his body language told a different story. Rigid shoulders, elevated breathing, the scent shift indicating stress. All markers Conall had learned to read.

Is it impossible? Or just inconvenient?

Quinton spun in his chair, eyes wide with something that looked almost like panic. What are you suggesting?

I’m stating facts. Conall pulled up the evidence files, his hands shaking slightly. Bank records showing payments to shell companies. Communication logs between Gregory and someone using ‘Twin Star.’ Intelligence reports tracking with your duty assignments.

The silence stretched, and through their weakened twin bond, Conall felt his brother’s shock—the shock of exposure.

You did it. You’ve been working with Gregory. Selling out the pack. Selling out me.

What the hell are you talking about? Quinton’s voice cracked. Con, these accusations are insane. I would never—

Fury built in Conall’s chest. Our pack. Our family. People who trusted you, and you sold them out for what? Money? Revenge?

You don’t understand! Quinton stood abruptly, his composure fracturing. You think it’s been easy watching you drift away? Watching that woman poison you against everything we’ve built?

The raw pain in his brother’s voice crystallized everything Conall had been denying about their dysfunction. His guilt transformed into rage.

So you betrayed everyone to hurt me? Make me choose between pack and mate? His wolf rose with protective fury. How many people will die because of your jealousy?

Jealousy? Quinton’s laugh was broken. Con, I’ve been trying to protect you! That evidence—I’ve been investigating it too, trying to figure out who ‘Twin Star’ really is!

But Conall’s paranoia twisted his brother’s desperate attempts at explanation. More lies. How long have you been planning this?

Planning what? Con, you’re scaring me. This isn’t you talking—this is whatever that bond has done to your head. Quinton reached toward him, and Conall flinched back.

Don’t. Don’t try to make this about the mate bond when you’ve been selling us out.

I haven’t sold anyone out! Quinton’s voice rose to a shout. For fuck’s sake, Conall, I’m your twin! I would die before I’d betray you!

The conviction in Quinton’s voice sounded like the perfect lie—too practiced, too smooth.

Get out, Conall said quietly.

Con, you have to listen to me—

GET OUT!

The roar echoed through the room. Quinton staggered backward, his face crumpling as he stumbled toward the door.

Conall felt their twin bond stretch and fray, damaged by his accusations and distrust. But the mate bond hummed stronger, whispering that this was necessary, that Nadine was his true priority now.

A lifetime of brotherhood just died .

Quinton moved toward the exit, shoulders slumped.

She’s walking into a trap, he said without turning. Gregory’s been planning this for weeks. She won’t survive it alone.

A final attempt at redemption, maybe. But far too late.

As Quinton disappeared, Conall stood surrounded by wreckage.

His twin—his other half—had been systematically betraying him.

Had been planning his murder.

And Nadine, who’d tried to warn him, was facing Gregory alone.

The mate bond tugged weakly at his consciousness—a distant echo in the desert darkness. She’d closed their connection to protect him from following her into what she knew was a trap.

But she was wrong. This wasn’t her battle to fight alone.

C ONALL MADE HIS WAY directly to the coalphas’ house. This was too important for a phone call. He needed the alphas to see how serious it was.

I need to speak with you both. Now, he said as soon as Malcolm opened the door, Larissa moving up beside him almost immediately.

Report, Malcolm said simply.

Conall laid out everything—Gregory’s storage unit, Quinton’s betrayal, Nadine’s departure. The words came clinically, but underneath ran currents of pain and fury.

When he finished, Malcolm’s expression was grim.

How long has she been gone? Larissa asked.

Four, maybe five hours. If she’s heading for the safe houses we identified, she has a significant head start.

And you want to go after her, Malcolm observed.

I want to save my mate’s life. Whatever the cost.

Malcolm and Larissa exchanged a look—one of those silent communications that came with their mate bond.

Within twenty minutes, the emergency pack council was assembled in the converted newspaper office, the lights casting harsh shadows across the intelligence hub that had become their war room.

Conall found himself standing before the assembled leadership: Malcolm and Larissa at the head of the conference table, Anders with his maps spread before him, Sarah and Nick representing the family interests, the elder council members who’d seen the pack through Vincent’s brutal reign and the transition to coalpha leadership, and all the other council members.

Only Quinton was missing, his absence like a wound Conall couldn’t quit probing.

We’re facing a coordinated assault on multiple fronts, Malcolm began. Dr. Chen’s intelligence confirms that Chimera is positioning for something they’re calling the Omicron Protocol—mass activation of neural interface assets across dozens of pack territories.

The timeline has accelerated, Anders added, pulling up displays on the wall monitors.

Two more packs have gone dark in the last twelve hours.

And from what I’ve heard, Aspen Falls, Ruby Range, and Creek Bend are all under active assault.

This isn’t just intelligence gathering anymore—it’s elimination of resistance.

Stephanie Gonzales, her silver hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights, leaned forward. What about our own security? If they’ve been planning this for years—

Our immediate concern is actionable intelligence, Larissa interrupted smoothly.

It appears Gregory Torrance is alive and coordinating his own actions with Chimera’s operations—either with their cooperation or without.

His daughter has gone after him alone, carrying our most complete intelligence on his network.

Conall watched the faces around the table as the coalphas laid out the situation strategically, focusing on pack security rather than personal complications.

They spoke of Nadine’s value as an intelligence asset, her knowledge of Gregory’s psychological patterns, the importance of preventing Chimera from eliminating their best source of information about the conspiracy.

What they didn’t mention was Quinton.

Malcolm and Larissa had agreed to handle that particular crisis quietly, keeping pack morale intact while the immediate threats were addressed.

The evidence that pointed to his twin as Gregory’s inside source, the financial records and communication logs that painted a devastating picture of betrayal spanning months—all that they kept to themselves, at least for the moment.