Page 20 of Heart of the Rebel Mate (Wolf Billionaire #5)

CHAPTER 20

ADRIAN

T he caves breathe with the weight of history. The air is damp, thick with the scent of wet stone and old earth, the walls glistening from unseen veins of water that snake through the rock. The rebellion's base isn't comfortable, but it's hidden, and that's what matters.

We arrive with Isla in tow, and the moment we step past the threshold, the tension is suffocating.

Cassian is the first to step forward, his expression cold and unreadable. His arms are crossed over his chest, the fabric of his worn jacket pulling taut over the muscles underneath. His eyes flick from Isla to me to Elara, then back again.

"What the hell is she doing here?" His voice is sharp, cutting through the cold night air.

I don't answer right away. The others are gathering now, drawn by the sound of our arrival, their whispers bleeding into the cavern's natural echoes. Zara flanks Elara's side, her posture tense. Ethan lingers in the background, watching, waiting.

"She's an asset," I say finally.

Cassian lets out a short laugh, but there's no humor in it. "An asset. That's what you're calling her?"

"I saved their asses," Isla interjects, voice smooth, almost amused. "You should be thanking me."

Cassian steps closer, his body coiled tight with barely restrained aggression. "I should be putting a bullet in your head."

Elara stiffens beside me, but she doesn't intervene. I don't blame her. Cassian has every right to be furious. Isla worked for the Council. She was one of their best before she vanished off the radar. And now she's here, standing in the heart of the rebellion like she belongs.

I sigh, rubbing a hand down my face. "Look, I don't trust her either, but she got us out of there alive. We were compromised. We wouldn't have made it without her."

Cassian isn't convinced. His gaze flickers toward Isla again, calculating. "Convenient, don't you think? She shows up, just in time to help. Just in time to play hero."

Isla smirks. "If I wanted to turn you in, you'd already be dead. The Council doesn't take half measures."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Cassian snaps.

The cave goes silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of us. I glance at Elara, but she doesn't look at me. She's watching Isla, expression unreadable.

Cassian exhales sharply. "This is a mistake," he mutters. Then he turns and walks off, shoulders rigid with tension.

I don't try to stop him.

The others break away slowly, murmuring among themselves, distrust thick in the air. Zara watches Isla for a long moment before following Cassian. Ethan lingers but eventually disappears into the shadows of the cave.

That leaves me, Isla, and Elara.

I exhale and turn to Isla. "Start talking."

She tilts her head. "About what?"

"You know damn well about what."

She sighs, stretching her arms like this is nothing more than a casual conversation. "I've been working against the Council for a while now. You just never noticed."

"That's not an answer," Elara says.

Isla shrugs. "The Council has a project in the works. Something big. I don't have all the details, but I know it's tied to the research you stole. The mate bond manipulation? It's only the surface. There's something worse beneath it."

Elara's eyes narrow. "What is it?"

Isla hesitates, just for a second, but I catch it. It's the first crack in her carefully composed expression.

"I don't know," she admits. "Not yet. But I know someone who might."

Elara and I exchange a glance. She doesn't trust Isla. I can see it in the way her fingers twitch, like she's resisting the urge to reach for a weapon.

I don't trust Isla either. I worked with her once at a secret execution case on a council officer years ago. She was in command of the assassin, and I was in charge of paperwork. Her cunning left a great impression when she wanted me to "beautify" a wrong move of her man that nearly ruined the assignment. The next time I heard of her, she had become a traitor.

But I trust that she wants something. And that's enough for now.

I nod. "Fine. You stay under watch. You don't go anywhere without someone tracking your every move. You so much as breathe wrong, and you're out."

Isla grins. "Understood, Captain."

Elara bristles beside me, but she doesn't say anything.

As Isla walks past, she brushes too close, her fingers ghosting over my wrist for a fraction of a second. A touch that's almost nothing but still manages to set Elara's jaw tight.

I pretend not to notice.

But later, when the caves quiet and the whispers fade, Elara finds me alone.

"You know her," she says. Not a question. A statement.

I meet her gaze. "I did. A long time ago."

"Um-huh," she simply replies and walks away.

For the better part of the week, Isla and I spend hours locked in the dim glow of the hideout's underground workspace, buried beneath layers of stone. It was once a natural cavern, but over time, we fortified it—wiring electricity from a stolen generator, hauling in salvaged desks, scattering mismatched chairs. The air is stale, thick with the scent of old dust and burnt-out monitors. It doesn't feel like a place where history shifts, but that's exactly what's happening.

Isla sits across from me, backlit by the glow of a monitor, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she works on decrypting the file she smuggled out. She doesn't speak much, only breaking the silence with a quiet hum or a sharp exhale when the code refuses to give way. The sound of keys clacking echoes in the space, rhythmic, methodical.

I try not to watch her too closely. But there's something about the way she moves, the way she leans in just slightly when she's deep in thought, the flicker of a smirk when she cracks another layer of encryption. It sets me on edge.

I don't want to acknowledge it, but I do.

Elara barely comes around. I don't blame her. She's busy keeping the rebellion from splintering, from collapsing under the weight of fear and doubt. But a part of me wonders if Isla is the reason she's keeping her distance.

I don't like that thought.

I shift my focus back to the data in front of me, scanning rows of decoded text. The more I read, the tighter my stomach knots.

Later, I find Elara near the main cavern, speaking in low tones with Cassian and Zara. She's tired—I can see it in the way she holds herself, the slight tension in her shoulders. But when she sees me, her posture shifts, as if bracing.

I hate that.

She excuses herself from the conversation, stepping closer. "What is it?"

I hesitate for a fraction of a second. Then I push the doubt away.

"We cracked part of the file," I say. "It's worse than we thought. They aren't just manipulating bonds. They're engineering them. Breeding compliance. They have a way of keeping us docile too. You remember how the uprisings are usually followed by a period of calm from everyone after the Council responds? It's because whenever they notice dissent starting up again, they release a chemical, either in the water or the air, we still don't know. This chemical makes everyone calm and more suggestive. Then they swoop in and crack down on the leaders. This way none of these uprisings ever devolves into a civil war. It's diabolically genius."

She looks away for a moment, processing. When she meets my gaze again, there's fire in her eyes. "I want to see the data myself."

I hesitate. I don't want her anywhere near Isla. Not because I think Isla is a threat, but because...

Because I don't like what Isla stirs in me.

I shove that thought down.

Later that night, I'm alone in the dim workspace, staring at the screen without really seeing it. The cavern is quieter now, the hum of conversation reduced to an occasional murmur in the distance. Most of the rebellion is resting, preparing for whatever comes next.

I should be doing the same.

Instead, my mind is tangled in knots. The decrypted files, the implications, the way Elara barely looked at me after I told her everything. I can feel her slipping away, and I don't know how to stop it.