Page 26 of Heart of the Rebel Mate (Wolf Billionaire #5)

CHAPTER 26

ELARA

T he war room smells like old paper, dust, and something bitter—ink, maybe, or whatever secrets the Council tried to bury inside these stolen files. I push a stack of documents aside, rubbing my temples as Adrian flips through another folder. The dim lighting casts shadows across his face, making the sharp angles of his jawline more pronounced. His brows knit together in concentration.

We should be exhausted. The last raid drained all of us, but sleep feels like a luxury we can't afford.

"Found something," Adrian says. His voice is quiet, but the weight behind it makes my stomach tighten.

I straighten, leaning over the table as he slides the file toward me. At first glance, it looks like the others—lists of names, dates, sterile reports detailing the Council's experiments with mate bonds. But as my eyes scan the pages, a sick feeling crawls up my spine.

It's worse than we thought.

The Council didn't just manipulate bonds. They severed them. Deliberately. Repeatedly. Testing different methods to see what would break a werewolf fastest.

There are firsthand accounts. Wolves who were paired with mates they never wanted, forced to endure an unnatural pull until their spirits shattered. Others had their bonds torn away by force, leaving them hollow, half-alive, drowning in a grief that never faded.

And some...some never survived the severing at all.

My throat tightens. I flip to another page, then another. Every story is worse than the last.

A mate bond isn't just an emotional connection. It's biological, spiritual, woven into the very essence of what we are. Ripping it apart is worse than death. It's obliteration.

Adrian exhales sharply beside me. "They treated it like an experiment," he says. His hands clench into fists. "Like we're nothing more than test subjects."

I force myself to keep reading, but my vision blurs. So many names. So much suffering.

Then I see one I recognize.

Isla Delacroix.

I freeze.

Adrian notices immediately. "What is it?"

Wordlessly, I turn the page so he can see for himself.

Isla's file is brief, but the implications are clear. Her mate bond was severed by direct Council intervention. No cause listed, no explanation—just a date, a name, and a cold, detached conclusion.

Mate terminated.

My stomach lurches. Isla had never talked about her past, not really. She defected from the Council months ago, but now I understand why.

"She never told us," Adrian murmurs.

The fire crackles, sending small embers into the night air. Isla keeps her gaze fixed on the blade in her hands, running the whetstone over it in slow, measured strokes. The rhythmic scrape is the only sound between us for a long time.

I don't miss the way her shoulders tighten, how her grip on the knife white-knuckles. She knows why we're here.

I hold up the file. "Isla."

She doesn't look up. "I know what you found."

Adrian takes a step forward, his voice measured but firm. "Why didn't you tell us?"

This time, she does look up. Her eyes are dark, unreadable, but beneath the surface, there's something raw. Haunted.

"Because it wouldn't have changed anything," she says flatly. "My mate is gone. The Council made sure of that."

Adrian and I exchange a glance.

I step closer, lowering my voice. "What happened?"

Isla exhales, setting the knife aside with a sharp clatter. For a moment, she just stares into the fire, her fingers curling into the dirt at her sides.

Then, she speaks.

"I met him when I was seventeen," she says. Her voice is steady, but there's a hollowness to it, like she's speaking from a wound that never healed. "I wasn't supposed to. The Council had already decided my future. But the bond... it didn't care about their rules."

She presses a hand to her chest, as if remembering the way it had felt. "He wasn't a threat. He wasn't political. He was just... mine. And I was his. But that didn't matter to them. They saw it as a liability. So they took him. And they tore us apart."

Adrian's fists clench at his sides. "How?"

Isla swallows, the muscles in her throat working. When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.

"They did something to him. I don't know what. All I know is that one day, I felt him. And the next... nothing. It was like a part of me had been carved out with a dull knife."

I grip the edge of the table to steady myself. The mate bond is sacred—a force of nature. To sever it, to rip someone away like that... it's monstrous.

Adrian's voice is low, filled with barely restrained fury. "They terminated the bond."

Isla flinches. "Yeah."

My stomach churns. The Council has always wielded control with an iron grip, but this... this is beyond cruelty. This is playing God.

I take a step closer. "How do you know they did it?"

Isla lets out a hollow laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Because I felt it. One moment, I was tethered to him, and the next, I wasn't. I woke up gasping, like I was drowning in empty space. And then I realized... he was gone. Not dead. Not far away. Just gone."

Her voice wavers, and I see it—the cracks in the armor, the grief pressing in from the edges.

Adrian kneels beside her, his fingers brushing her arm. "Isla..."

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. "You don't get it. You and Elara—you still have your bond. You still feel. But me? I feel... nothing. I walk around every day, knowing I was supposed to have something real, something meant for me. And now? It's just gone."

Adrian's fists tighten so hard I hear the leather of his gloves creak. His entire body is rigid with fury, his breathing sharp and controlled.

I don't think. I move.

I drop to my knees and pull Isla into my arms.

She stiffens at first, her breath hitching. But then—slowly, cautiously—she leans into the embrace. Her shoulders shake, and though she doesn't sob, I feel the grief rolling off her in waves.

Over her head, I meet Adrian's eyes. Neither of us speaks, but we don't need to.

This is what the Council is capable of.

They aren't just waging war on us. They're ripping souls apart.

I tighten my hold on Isla, resting my chin atop her head. And as I hold her, something sharp twists in my chest.

I think of my father.

Of all the horrors he uncovered about the Council, all the things he wanted to stop.

How much of this did he know?

And more importantly...

How much worse does it get?

Later that night, I melt into Adrian, my fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair, my nails raking gently against his scalp.

Isla's story has us spooked. It almost seems like we want to share these moments together before the Council does the unthinkable. Isla feels like a shell of herself. If that's in our future, then we deserve to enjoy as much of this period as possible.

He growls softly, the sound reverberating through me, igniting a fire that has been smoldering since the moment we heard Isla's story. The tale of the Council's ruthless severance of bonds like ours left us both shaken, but it also set something fierce and urgent ablaze within me. Every second, every touch matters.

He lifts me effortlessly, his strong arms securing me against him, the heat of his skin searing through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath hitches as I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, the solid press of his body making my pulse quicken. My heart pounds in rhythm with the hunger thrumming between us. Adrian moves with purpose, his grip tightening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps that match my own as he carries me toward the bed.

When he lays me down, his body hovers over mine, caging me in, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that steals what little breath I have left. This isn't just need—it's desperation, an all-consuming hunger neither of us can deny. The fear of losing this, of having it ripped away by the Council, only drives me further, harder.

His mouth crashes onto mine in a feverish kiss, our tongues tangling in a battle of want and surrender. A moan escapes me as my hands slide down his broad shoulders, tracing the hard contours of his chest. His lips leave mine, trailing a heated path down my neck, his breath hot, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. Each kiss sends shivers racing down my spine, my skin tingling with raw anticipation.

His cock is hard and throbbing, pressing insistently against my thigh—a firm reminder of the urgency that drives us both. I reach down, my fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, tracing the pulsing veins beneath the smooth skin.

Adrian groans, the sound raw and unfiltered, his hips jerking instinctively into my touch. His breath is ragged, his control fraying. "Elara," he rasps, his voice thick with need. "You have no idea what you do to me."

A slow smile curves my lips as I stroke my thumb over the sensitive tip, feeling the pre-cum as it beads there. "I think I have a pretty good idea," I reply, even as my voice, like my pussy, drips with desire.

But it's not enough—not for either of us. The fear of the Council, the looming threat of losing this, losing us, fuels the fire burning between us. I need him, want him, in a way that words could never capture. This isn't mere passion—it's desperation, a claiming, a promise. And I don't intend to hold back.

My pussy aches with a need so intense it's almost unbearable, a deep, pulsing hunger that only he can satisfy. I slide my hand between my legs, desperate for relief, my fingers brushing against my own slick heat—but before I can go any further, Adrian gently moves my hand away.

"Let me," he murmurs, his voice husky, filled with promise.

His big, calloused fingers replace mine, his touch both tender and possessive. He looks at me, his dark eyes burning with a mixture of tenderness and raw desire, and then he dips his head, capturing my lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth as his fingers begin their magic, teasing, exploring, taking his time.

He starts slow, deliberate, circling my clit with maddening precision. A gasp escapes me, my body arching off the bed as pleasure sparks through every nerve. My hands clutch his shoulders, my nails digging in, silently begging for more.

"Adrian," I whisper, my voice trembling with need. "Please."

A dark, knowing chuckle rumbles from his chest. "Don't be impatient, love," he teases, his breath warm against my lips. "Let's savor this."

Then he presses harder, his fingers moving in a rhythm that has me gasping, writhing beneath him. The sensations coil tighter and tighter, a wildfire spreading through me.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice rough, coaxing. "Let go for me, Elara."

And I do—shattering apart in his hands, his name spilling from my lips as he watches me come undone.

Our bodies move together, a perfect rhythm, a desperate need. Every thrust sends pleasure spiraling through me, tightening the coil deep in my belly. Adrian groans, his lips tracing a scorching path down my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"You were made for me," he murmurs, his voice rough, possessive.

I cling to him, nails raking down his back, relishing the way his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Then take me," I whisper, my voice shaky, breathless. "All of me."

A low curse slips from his lips before he grips my thighs, spreading me wider, angling himself even deeper. The stretch is exquisite, the burn of pleasure just enough to make me dizzy. He drives into me harder, faster, his control slipping, his need matching my own.

"Elara," he groans, burying his face in my neck as his pace becomes punishing, desperate. "I can't?—"

"Don't stop," I gasp, arching beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

The bed rocks beneath us, the sound of skin against skin blending with our ragged moans. The intensity builds, climbing higher, until every nerve in my body feels like it's on fire.

He reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit, circling it with perfect pressure, sending me hurtling toward the edge. I cry out, gripping him tighter as pleasure crashes over me, my entire body trembling in his arms.

Adrian follows, his movements becoming erratic, a deep, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finds his release, his body shuddering against mine.

For a long moment, neither of us moves, tangled together, our chests rising and falling in sync. He presses a tender kiss to my forehead, his fingers brushing lazily over my damp skin.

"You're mine," he whispers, his voice raw, reverent.

I smile, cupping his face, my thumb tracing over his cheek. "Always."

Time passes quickly. Before I know it, we're pawing at each other again.

Adrian crushes his lips against mine, his kiss fierce and consuming, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, demanding, claiming. I meet him with equal fervor, our breaths mingling, our bodies moving in perfect, desperate sync. His hands roam over my heated skin, sliding down my back, gripping my hips, then moving up to cup my breasts. He kneads them, his thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples before pinching them just enough to send a sharp spark of pleasure straight to my core.

I arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping me. The tension inside me coils tighter, every nerve sparking with sensation, pushing me toward the edge. But I don't want to go alone—I want him with me.

"Adrian," I gasp, nails digging into his back, my legs locking tighter around his waist. "I'm so close."

A growl rumbles deep in his throat, his movements becoming rougher, more frantic. His control is slipping, his body tightening, his cock driving into me with an urgency that makes my vision blur. "Me too," he grits out. "Fuck, Elara, I?—"

His words dissolve into a low, broken moan as his body shudders, his release hitting him hard. The sensation of him spilling inside me, the deep, pulsing warmth, sends me spiraling over the edge with him. My orgasm crashes through me in waves, my body convulsing, my cries mixing with his as we cling to each other, lost in the overwhelming pleasure.

We collapse together, tangled and breathless, our skin slick with sweat, our chests rising and falling in time. Adrian rolls onto his side, wrapping me in his arms, his embrace strong yet tender. He presses a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you," he murmurs.

A warmth spreads through me, different from the heat of passion—deeper, more profound. I run my fingers through his damp hair, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. "I love you too," I whisper, meaning it with every piece of me.

The threat of the Council looms over us, a shadow waiting to strike, but right now, in this moment, none of it matters. All that exists is us—our bodies still entwined, our hearts beating as one. And no matter what happens, no matter how fleeting this may be, I know I'll cherish this night. I'll cherish him.

The room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing. My skin is still flushed, my body languid and aching in the best way possible. Adrian lies beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers tracing absent patterns along my hip.

I should feel exposed. Vulnerable.

Instead, I feel...whole.

He shifts slightly, pressing a lazy kiss to my shoulder before resting his forehead against the curve of my neck. "I should probably apologize," he murmurs, amusement threading through his voice.

"For what?"

"For not stopping."

I turn my head, meeting his gaze. His expression is softer than I've ever seen it, his usual intensity tempered by something deeper, something almost tender.

"I didn't want you to stop," I admit.

His fingers still against my skin, his eyes searching mine. Then, slowly, a small, knowing smile tugs at his lips.

"Good," he says.

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. But the moment doesn't last. Reality presses back in, heavier than before.

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. "Everything feels impossible," I whisper. "The Council, the war... Isla's story..."

Adrian props himself up on one elbow, watching me. "It's not impossible," he says. "We've already done the impossible, Elara. We'll do it again."

I wish I could believe that completely.

But as I think about what we uncovered tonight, about the horrors hidden within those files, I know one thing for certain.

This fight is bigger than us. Bigger than anything I ever imagined.

And the battle is far from over.