Page 41 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

A trap specifically designed for you. Maybe for both of us. Quinton lowered the binoculars, meeting his brother’s gaze directly. Gregory knows how we operate, knows we’ll come for her.

Probably. Conall’s voice carried grim acceptance. But we’re still going in.

Of course we are. Quinton checked his weapons. The only question is how.

But before they could begin planning, something needed to be said.

Something that had been festering between them, poisoning their connection with doubt and suspicion.

Quin. Conall set down his equipment, turning to face his twin directly. About the evidence against you—the financial records, the communication logs.

Quinton’s expression shuttered, defensive walls sliding into place. Con, we don’t have time—

We have to make time. Conall’s voice carried quiet intensity. Because I need you to know that I know you would never betray the pack. Never betray me.

Relief flooded through Quinton so suddenly he nearly staggered as his brother’s suspicion lifted from him. You believe me?

I should have always believed you. Conall’s voice sounded thick with emotion. Even when the evidence seemed damning, even when logic said you had to be involved—I should have known you’d never sell us out. I’m sure the evidence was planted, manipulated. Gregory played us both.

His brother’s guilt and self-recrimination colored everything coming through the bond. But underneath it ran something deeper—the return of trust that had been the foundation of their relationship since birth.

Then why—

Because I was terrified. The admission made Conall’s voice rough. Terrified that choosing the mate bond meant losing you. So I attacked the easiest target—the evidence, the situation, anything except facing the real fear that I was hurting the most important relationship in my life.

Quinton’s own shock rippled back through their connection. All this time, he’d thought Conall was choosing Nadine over him. Instead, his brother had been just as afraid of losing their bond.

I made this an impossible choice, Conall continued, his voice barely above a whisper. Made you think you had to compete with her for my loyalty. That was cruel, and it was wrong, and I’m sorry.

Con—

I was too blind to protect my own brother from false accusations.

Quinton met his twin’s gaze directly, the guilt and hope warring in features identical to his own. The fear that had been eating at him—that he was losing his brother to someone who would always see him as a threat—began to dissolve.

She loves you, he said quietly, testing the words and finding them easier to say than he’d expected. And that’s not something that threatens what we have. That’s something that makes our family stronger.

The silence stretched between them, but it was the comfortable understanding that had always defined their relationship.

I was terrified too, Quinton finally said. Terrified of losing you to something I couldn’t compete with or understand. So I attacked the easiest target too—her. Convinced myself she was manipulating you, that the mate bond was artificial, that everything you felt was just sophisticated programming.

Conall’s surprise rippled through their connection, mixed with growing understanding.

And I made you choose between us, Quinton continued, his voice barely above a whisper. Put you in an impossible position.

Quin—

She loves you enough to walk into certain death rather than let that love be used as a weapon against you.

Quinton met his twin’s gaze directly, seeing his own features reflected back but softened by emotions he rarely let himself show.

I was starting to think I’d lost you, Conall said finally, his voice rough with suppressed emotion.

Never, Quinton replied with absolute conviction. You’re stuck with me, whether you want me or not. Both of you are.

Conall’s shock at the inclusion gave way to something that felt like hope.

The twin bond doesn’t get smaller just because there’s room for a mate bond too.

Relief flooded through their connection—not just Conall’s, but Quinton’s own.

He’d been bracing himself for the inevitable loss of the most important relationship in his life.

Instead, he was discovering that love multiplied rather than divided, that adding Nadine to their family unit didn’t diminish what they had.

It made it more.

Now, Quinton said, picking up his binoculars again, let’s go get our girl back.

Our girl . The phrase felt strange on his tongue but right in a way that surprised him. Not Conall’s mate or his brother’s woman, but someone who belonged to both of them in different ways.

Family, chosen and claimed and worth dying for.

For the next few minutes, they planned their approach with the seamless coordination that had made them legendary among pack guardians. Not just partners but two parts of a single organism, each automatically compensating for the other’s position and movement.

I can approach through the loading dock, Conall suggested, tracing their route on a rough sketch. Draw their attention while—

While I flank through the old equipment shed, Quinton finished. Classic pincer movement.

Except they’ll be expecting that.

So we give them what they expect but not how they expect it. Quinton worked through alternatives, searching for the strategic surprise that would turn Gregory’s trap against him. What if we go in together? Front door, no subtlety, maximum aggression?

Conall studied him with those dark eyes that were identical to his own. That’s suicide against this kind of defensive position.

Or it’s exactly what they won’t be prepared for. Quinton felt certainty crystallizing as the plan took shape. Gregory knows we prefer coordinated approaches with multiple contingencies. He’s prepared for us to be smart.

So we be stupid instead?

We be unpredictable. Quinton grinned, feeling something like their old partnership clicking back into place. Direct assault, maximum violence, no quarter given. Make them react to us instead of us reacting to their prepared positions.

The plan was insane, reckless, exactly the kind of frontal assault that tactical manuals warned against. But it had one crucial advantage—it would be completely unexpected.

Gregory had surely prepared for meticulous infiltration, for the kind of methodical approach the Stewart twins were known for.

He hadn’t prepared for berserker fury.

I like it, Conall said, and through their bond Quinton felt his brother’s recognition that sometimes the best tactics were no tactics at all.

Besides, Quinton added, checking his ammunition one final time, we’ve got something Gregory doesn’t understand.

What’s that?

We’re not just coming to rescue her. Quinton’s voice went quiet, dangerous. We’re coming to bring her home. And anybody who stands between a Stewart twin and his family is going to learn what a real mistake looks like.

Conall’s grin was feral. Wild. Let’s go make some mistakes.

They moved through the darkness with synchronized precision, their years of shared combat experience making verbal coordination unnecessary.

Whatever Gregory had planned, whatever trap he’d designed—he was about to discover that some bonds couldn’t be broken by neural interfaces or psychological manipulation.

Some family was worth any price.

And the Stewart twins had just decided Nadine Torrance was family.