Page 5 of Conall (The Sunburst Pack #3)

T HE NEXT MORNING , C ONALL’S shoulder still ached where the tranquilizer dart had penetrated his skin.

The counteragent Nadine had administered had prevented the worst effects, but his muscles still felt like they’d been stretched to their limits and then released too quickly.

Should’ve been worse , he thought, rolling his shoulder experimentally as he entered the new pack meeting space. Much worse .

He paused midway into the room, catching Quinton’s scent before his twin appeared from a back hallway.

You look like shit, Quinton said with the blunt assessment only a twin could deliver. His expression mirrored Conall’s own—they shared the same dark hair and eyes, the same strong jawline, the same height and build.

Good morning to you too, Conall replied, continuing toward his brother. Nice to know you were concerned.

I was. You should’ve called me.

The unspoken accusation lingered between them. You never go into danger without me .

Didn’t have time, Conall said.

He’d never lied to Quinton before. Not about anything that mattered.

But how could he explain what had happened in that ravine? Nadine—and the shock of recognition that had slammed through him when their eyes met.

The unwanted, unwelcome mate bond with a woman who apparently hated him.

You okay? Quinton asked, scrutinizing him through narrowed eyes. You seem…off. Even more than I expected.

Just sore, Conall said, another half-truth. Those tranquilizer darts pack a punch.

Anders wants a full debrief at the pack meeting, Quinton said, falling into step beside him as they headed toward the kitchen. Malcolm and Larissa pushed everything else off the agenda. Whoever attacked you has the coalphas spooked.

I don’t think they were after me, Conall said. At least not initially. They came for her.

Quinton raised an eyebrow. You mean Nadine Torrance?

Conall nodded, grateful that the kitchen was empty as they entered. He needed coffee before facing the interrogation that awaited him at the pack meeting.

Conall busied himself with the coffee pot, avoiding his twin’s penetrating gaze. Water gurgled through the coffee maker, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of fresh brew. Conall inhaled deeply, focusing on the familiar scent to center himself.

So who’s she working for? Quinton asked.

For the first time in their lives, Conall found himself reluctant to share everything with his twin.

Not sure, Conall said slowly. Assuming the operatives who attacked us in the ravine were Chimera… They seemed to be after both of us. I mean, she had some kind of counteragent for their tranquilizers.

That’s…interesting.

Yeah. Conall poured two mugs of coffee, handing one to his twin. We’ll get it all sorted at the meeting.

He wondered, fleetingly, if she felt it too—that persistent pull, that awareness of connection despite their mutual hostility. Then he pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t acknowledge the bond. Wouldn’t accept it.

Let’s go, he said, draining his coffee in one long swallow. Better not keep the coalphas waiting.

T HE S UNBURST P ACK’S MEETING hall occupied the ground floor of what had once been the town’s newspaper office. Under Anders’s direction, the building had been transformed into an intelligence hub for investigating Chimera.

The printing equipment room had been converted for secure communications, and the basement had been reconfigured for intelligence analysis, complete with military-grade equipment.

The main room, where the pack gathered for meetings, retained some of its original charm with exposed brick walls and high ceilings.

But the central display wall now mapped Chimera’s organizational structure instead of newspaper layouts, and the workstations around the perimeter featured specialized analysis software rather than typesetting equipment.

Conall and Quinton entered the main meeting hall just as Robert Mitchell, a pack member who’d gone to school with Larissa and Malcolm, emerged from the basement stairwell, wiping his hands on a cloth as he surveyed the transformed space with satisfaction.

Communication arrays are fully operational, Robert reported to Anders, who was coordinating the technical setup near the central display wall. Encrypted channels to all major pack territories, with redundant backup systems in case primary networks are compromised.

Conall found himself automatically cataloging the technical details as Anders replied, Excellent work. What about security protocols for the intelligence displays?

That’s what I wanted to discuss, Robert said, moving closer to examine the central wall where Chimera’s organizational chart was taking shape. The twins followed, drawn by the conversation about pack security.

We need to balance accessibility with protection, Robert continued. I’d recommend implementing rotating access codes—changes every six hours, distributed only to essential personnel.

Anders nodded approvingly. Smart thinking. Who would you suggest for the distribution list?

Pack leadership, obviously, Robert said, his gaze briefly finding Conall and Quinton. Key investigators like the Stewart twins here. Communications coordinators—myself, Dana when she’s on duty. Maybe one or two others for redundancy.

Conall noticed how Robert’s eyes lingered on the organizational chart as he spoke, tracking connection lines with unusual intensity.

This is quite comprehensive, Robert added, studying the display more intently. How much of this intelligence came from the Torrance woman’s investigation?

The question made Conall’s shoulders tense slightly. There was something in Robert’s tone—casual curiosity that felt a bit too calculated.

A significant portion, Anders admitted. Her surveillance work provided crucial context for what we’d already discovered about Chimera operations.

Fascinating, Robert murmured, his gaze tracking the connection lines between various nodes on the organizational chart. She’s clearly been thorough. I assume we’re cross-referencing her findings with intelligence from other packs?

Quinton shifted beside Conall, and he felt his brother’s growing attention to the conversation. They’d both developed instincts for when someone was fishing for information.

That’s the plan, Anders said, but Conall caught the lead guardian’s slightly cagey tone.

Robert gave a brief nod and moved away to work on his communications setup, but not before Conall clocked how his gaze had memorized the organizational structure displayed on the wall.

Thorough guy, Quinton murmured quietly as they watched Robert disappear back toward the communications station.

Maybe too thorough, Conall replied under his breath, filing away his unease for later consideration. As he and Quinton made their way toward the seating area, Conall’s gaze swept the room, cataloging who was present.

Malcolm and Larissa occupied the raised platform at the front of the room, their postures mirroring each other’s confidence and authority. As coalphas, they balanced each other perfectly—Malcolm’s physical prowess complemented by Larissa’s strategic mind.

Anders stood slightly apart from the main group, his stance alert and observant as always. The former military man had taken on the role of lead guardian with the same efficiency and dedication he brought to everything.

Beside him stood his new mate, Etta, her white-blonde hair a stark contrast to the darker coloring of most pack members. The newest addition to their pack looked stronger than she had since her surgery to remove the neural interface Chimera had implanted in her.

Sarah—newly pregnant and just beginning to show—sat with Nick, their son, Javier, running a toy truck across the floor at the back of the room.

Una and Dante Sanchez, Sarah’s cousins, flanked them protectively.

Two older pack members, Stephanie and Raymond Gonzales, occupied seats near the front, their silver hair gleaming in the morning light streaming through the windows.

Other pack members filled the remaining seats—Owen, who had once been swayed by Hannah’s manipulation but was now firmly loyal to the new leadership; Dana Rosado, showing even more guardian potential under Anders’s guidance, surrounded by her three younger siblings, Amaia, Carmen, and Isaac; Tommy Peterson; Jessica Miller; Raymond’s cousin Patrick Gonzales, who kept stealing glances at Jessica when he thought no one was looking.

And all the others, the pack members Conall had grown up with, the shifters who were his family by ties of loyalty and love.

The twins found seats near Anders, who acknowledged them with a slight nod.

Everyone’s here, Malcolm said, his deep voice carrying easily through the room.

Larissa stepped forward, radiating the calm authority that had earned her the position as Sunburst’s first female alpha. Let’s get started. We have several issues to discuss today, but first —her gaze found Conall— we need to hear about yesterday’s incident.

As Conall rose, every eye in the room turned toward him.

The absence of his twin at his side during yesterday’s confrontation still felt wrong, off-balance.

I don’t think I’ve ever given a pack report alone , he realized.

I was patrolling the eastern border, he began, keeping his voice level and professional despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach. I detected an unfamiliar scent—female shifter, not Sunburst Pack.

Did you recognize the scent? Anders asked, his voice bearing the crisp precision of his military background.

No. Conall shook his head.

Continue, Larissa prompted.

The intruder was following a deliberate pattern, checking each of the security sensors Anders installed last week.

Conall glanced at the lead guardian, whose expression had hardened.

She was heading toward our most vulnerable point—the eastern access route where the security grid isn’t fully operational.

Smart, Anders murmured. Reconnaissance.