Page 37 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

Conall found himself oddly relieved by their discretion. The thought of publicly accusing his twin—of watching pack members who’d known them since childhood process the idea that one of the Stewart twins had turned traitor—made his stomach clench with something beyond mere embarrassment.

Shame, maybe. The acknowledgment that he’d been blind to Quinton’s deception, that the twin bond he’d always trusted had become a weapon used against him.

The question, Raymond Gonzales said, his lined face showing deep concern, is whether we can afford to send more people into what’s clearly a trap.

He leaned forward, his voice taking on the tone of someone offering hard-won wisdom.

I’ve seen too many good wolves lost to hasty rescue attempts.

We should wait—give ourselves time to properly assess Gregory’s capabilities, maybe even let him think he’s won.

The eastern approach through Devil’s Run Canyon would be safer than trying to breach whatever defenses he’s established at his primary location.

Conall’s inner wolf whined uneasily. Raymond’s suggestions felt wrong on a tactical level—waiting would give Gregory more time to consolidate his position, and Devil’s Run Canyon was notoriously exposed, with limited escape routes if things went sideways.

We can’t wait, Una Sanchez interrupted, her voice sharp with urgency.

Every hour we delay puts more families at risk—families like mine, like Sarah’s.

She gestured toward her cousin, her emotional intensity filling the room.

Sarah and I have discussed this extensively.

The pack needs to act now, not waste precious time on elaborate planning while Gregory implements whatever horrific scheme he has in mind.

The contradiction between Raymond’s call for delay and Una’s push for immediate action should have felt like healthy debate. Instead, something about their timing felt choreographed to Conall—as if they were working together to push the council toward either reckless haste or dangerous hesitation.

Sarah shifted Javier on her lap, the three-year-old having fallen asleep during the emergency meeting.

What about communications? We’ve already seen how easily they can be compromised.

Her gaze moved between Raymond and Una with an expression Conall couldn’t quite read.

How do we coordinate a rescue when we can’t trust our own systems?

The question hung in the air, and Conall noticed how both Raymond and Una seemed to tense slightly—not with concern, but with something that looked almost like anticipation.

But then Malcolm’s alpha voice cut through the debate with finality.

Limited team. Small enough to avoid detection, experienced enough to handle whatever Gregory has planned.

His gaze found Conall’s. One operative with the personal connection necessary to reestablish the mate bond and coordinate with her once contact is made.

The room fell silent. They were talking about sending Conall after his mate—alone, into enemy territory, with minimal support and maximum risk.

After a moment, Raymond’s shoulders sagged in what appeared to be genuine defeat. Of course, Alpha. I just worry about losing more people to Gregory’s schemes. His voice carried the weariness of someone who’d genuinely accepted an unwelcome decision. But you’re right. We can’t abandon pack members.

Una nodded quickly, her earlier urgency giving way to what looked like sheepish acceptance.

I’m sorry if I pushed too hard. I just can’t stand the thought of what he might be doing to her while we debate.

She glanced at Sarah, her expression softening.

But the alphas are right—proper planning saves lives.

Conall’s suspicions wavered. Their responses seemed authentic—Raymond’s protective concern, Una’s emotional investment in family safety.

Maybe he was seeing conspiracy where there was only legitimate disagreement about tactics, becoming paranoid about every pack member who expressed strong opinions.

Am I seeing threats where none exist? he wondered, watching Raymond settle back in his chair with the resigned posture of someone who’d lost an argument but accepted the outcome. Or am I letting my guard down at exactly the wrong moment?

How long do we have? Nick asked, pulling Conall’s attention back to the mission.

Hours, Anders replied grimly. Gregory’s been planning this for months, if not years. Every moment we delay gives him more time to implement whatever psychological warfare he has planned for his daughter.

The mate bond tugged weakly at Conall’s consciousness, a distant echo that grew fainter with each passing hour.

Which brought them back to Nadine, alone in the desert, walking into her father’s trap. She’d taken the evidence files, had the best intelligence about Gregory’s patterns and locations. Without her analytical mind, they were hunting blind.

I need to go after her, Conall said.

We can’t afford to lose more guardians to personal vendettas, Sarah said.

This isn’t personal. Conall moved to the display, highlighting locations gleaned from Gregory’s files before Nadine had taken them with her.

Nadine has the most complete intelligence about Gregory’s operations.

His psychological patterns, preferred tactics, likely responses.

But she’s also emotionally compromised and walking into a trap designed specifically for her weaknesses.

Doubly emotionally compromised, Larissa observed. Cutting the mate bond makes you just as vulnerable.

But if we restore it, Conall continued, our mate bond makes us stronger together. Enhanced coordination, instinctive teamwork, shared awareness—everything needed for a situation this complex.

Dr. Chen cleared his throat. There’s another consideration.

We can’t be sure Gregory hasn’t been manipulating Nadine through a neural implant.

If he is, she may not be acting under her own free will—not to mention all the ways he’s spent her whole life manipulating her, training her to follow his orders.

Ice shot through Conall’s veins. What if her decision to leave was another layer of Gregory’s trap? All the more reason to go after her. She’s facing an enemy who’s had years to plan her psychological destruction.

And you think you’re the one who can see past manipulation? Sarah’s voice carried skepticism. After knowing her for only a few weeks?

I think I understand what Gregory’s really after. He’s not just eliminating loose ends—he’s creating a demonstration. Proof that even the strongest shifter bonds can be broken, that pack loyalty means nothing when properly manipulated.

The assembled shifters exchanged glances, a few of them beginning to nod.

If he breaks the mate bond, turns Nadine into a weapon against her mate and his pack—the pack she’s come to protect—it sends a message to every shifter community.

That no connection is sacred. No loyalty is permanent.

That resistance won’t help. He wants us to give up the fight before it even begins.

Psychological warfare, Anders said grimly. Destroy morale before the final assault.

Exactly. Stopping him isn’t just about saving Nadine. It’s about preserving hope that we can fight back. Conall met each alpha’s gaze. That some things are worth protecting no matter the cost.

The silence was heavy with the recognition that they faced an enemy with decades of preparation, resources beyond anything they’d encountered.

Their only advantages were the bonds between them—pack loyalty, alliance cooperation, connections that made them stronger together.

Malcolm and Larissa shared a single glance and then made the decision with alpha authority that brooked no argument.

Go. Find her, Larissa said.

Stop Gregory, Malcolm agreed. Get us the intelligence to locate whatever command center Chimera is using to launch the Omicron Protocol.

Relief flooded through Conall, mixed with terror. Somewhere in the desert darkness, Nadine walked into a trap designed by the man who’d shaped her worldview. She was brilliant, deadly, trained by the best—but emotionally devastated by Gregory’s betrayal.

And she was alone.

I’ll need equipment, he said quietly. Tactical gear, medical supplies, communications equipment that can’t be compromised.

Whatever you need, Malcolm assured him. This is priority one.

Your transportation will be ready in fifteen minutes, Anders told Conall. Full kit, communications, medical supplies.

As the meeting dispersed and pack members moved to coordinate the mission, Conall remained in the intelligence hub for a moment, staring at the maps and photographs that traced Gregory’s network across the Southwest.

Twenty minutes later, Conall drove into the desert night, following the faint psychic echo of a severed mate bond. Behind him, Sunburst’s lights faded into memory.

The desert stretched endlessly ahead, holding uncertainty, danger, and the woman who’d become more important than his own survival.

Somewhere in that darkness, the war for the shifter community’s survival would be decided by two people who’d found each other despite every reason their connection shouldn’t exist.

The mate bond tugged weakly—a distant star in the darkness. She was out there, preparing to face the man who’d created her as a weapon and decided she was too dangerous to live.

But she wasn’t going to face him alone.

Conall was going to make sure they both survived to see what came next.