Page 6 of Heart of the Rebel Mate (Wolf Billionaire #5)

CHAPTER 6

ADRIAN

E lara's presence is becoming impossible to ignore, no matter how much I tell myself otherwise.

The council's hall is packed, tension weaving through the air like a storm waiting to break. The towering stone pillars cast long shadows under the dim torchlight, the scent of burning sage and aged parchment thick in the space. The murmurs of gathered wolves ripple through the chamber, low and hushed, each voice threaded with anticipation.

This isn't just another council meeting.

This is a tribunal.

Decisions are being made tonight—judgments on rogue activity, territory disputes, and, most importantly, the growing unrest that has been simmering beneath the surface of our world. There have been whispers of rebellion, of alliances forming in the dark. The Council is here to reassert control, to remind every pack where their loyalties should lie.

And she's here .

From my position in the shadowed corner, I watch as she moves through the crowd with Cassian close at her side. Her posture is straight and controlled, but I see the sharp attentiveness in her gaze, the way her head tilts slightly toward him as he speaks. Even from here, I can tell she's absorbing every word, calculating.

My wolf stirs beneath my skin, restless and irritated, muscles coiling with instinct. I force my jaw to stay locked, fists clenching at my sides. I tell myself it's the situation, that it's them —Cassian and his ever-present defiance, his habit of showing up in places where his presence is a challenge.

But my eyes keep dragging back to her .

To the way the flickering torchlight catches the angles of her face. To the way she moves—graceful but purposeful, every step measured.

To the fact that yet again, she shouldn't be standing in the middle of this .

And yet, she is.

It's the third time this week I've seen them together. Cassian's sudden reappearance in her life is as deliberate as everything he does, and every fiber of my being is telling me this is a disaster waiting to happen.

I can't decide what frustrates me more: Cassian's obvious manipulation or the fact that Elara doesn't seem to see it.

She laughs at something he says, the sound cutting through the low hum of conversation around me. It's not the kind of laugh she gives freely—it's guarded and sarcastic, but it still twists something deep in my chest. My fingers curl around the glass I'm holding, the sharp edge of the rim pressing against my palm.

I should walk away.

There's no reason for me to linger here, no reason for me to keep watching as she interacts with him. My job is to monitor and report, not get involved. But even as I tell myself that, my feet refuse to move.

Instead, I stay rooted to the spot, my gaze tracking their every move.

Cassian leans closer, his silver eyes gleaming as he gestures toward the projection screen at the far end of the hall. Elara's gaze follows his, and I can see the way her shoulders tense, her body angling slightly away from him. It's subtle, but it's there—her instinctive response to his proximity.

Good.

But then Cassian lowers his voice, and she turns back to him, her brows furrowing as she listens. Whatever he's saying, it's enough to hold her attention, enough to keep her from walking away.

Damn it.

I push off the wall, my jaw tightening as I make my way toward them. My steps are measured, deliberate, though the heat simmering beneath my skin makes me want to move faster, to close the distance between us before Cassian can sink his claws any deeper.

"Elara," I say as I approach, my voice steady but sharp.

She turns to me, her green eyes flashing with something between surprise and irritation. Cassian, of course, doesn't even flinch. His smirk lessens and his posture is relaxed as he glances over his shoulder at me.

The tension snaps tight between us the moment Cassian disappears into the crowd.

Elara's arms are still crossed, her shoulders squared, her lips pressed into a firm line. The torchlight catches in her eyes, sharp and unyielding, daring me to explain myself.

My pulse pounds against my ribs, but I don't let it show.

"What the hell are you doing?" The words come out hard, rougher than I intended, but I don't take them back.

Her chin lifts, jaw tight, the muscle feathering beneath her skin. "Excuse me?"

I take a step closer, but she doesn't move. "Cassian," I bite out, gesturing toward the space he left behind. "You're letting him get too close."

Her nostrils flare, her weight shifting slightly to one side. She doesn't speak right away, just watches me, expression unreadable.

And then?—

A slow exhale, controlled, measured. "And why exactly is that your business?"

The question hits harder than it should.

I don't blink. "Did you forget what I told you about him?"

Her eyes flash, something sparking behind them—anger, disbelief, something hotter. "Don't talk to me like I don't know who he is."

"Do you?" I counter, stepping closer and lowering my voice.

Her fingers twitch where they're tucked against her arms.

"Because from where I'm standing," I continue, "it looks like you're letting him play you. Elara, you wouldn't come to gatherings like this, so how come when you do, it's with Cassian?"

A sharp laugh breaks from her lips, short and humorless. "And you care about that?" The words come fast, her voice laced with something cold. "You care about me , or is this just another mission for the Council?"

The accusation lands like a strike, but I don't flinch.

"My work for the Council has nothing to do with this," I say, forcing steel into my tone.

Her expression twists, her gaze flicking over me like she's peeling back my skin, looking for the lie. "Doesn't it?" she murmurs, her voice lower now, biting. "You're here to watch me. To track my every move and word. To report back, just like they want you to."

Her scent shifts—still familiar, but charged now, laced with frustration, with something she isn't saying.

I don't blink.

I don't move.

"I'm trying to protect you." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Her breath stutters—just slightly—but she catches it, mask sliding back into place.

"I've heard this word from you so many times, but I don't understand. Protect me from what ?" she demands.

I inhale, slow, steady, the weight of the truth pressing against my ribs.

"The Council isn't just watching your project." My voice is quieter now, but no less firm.

"They're watching you ."

The flicker in her eyes is immediate—uncertainty threading through the anger, hesitation creeping beneath her defenses.

She blinks, lips parting slightly. "What are you talking about?"

For a moment, I don't speak.

For a moment, I let her stand there, watching me, waiting?—

And then, I step closer.

Because I can't hold back anymore.

"The Council sees your project as a threat," I say, my tone quieter now. "They think it's too idealistic, too... progressive. And because of that, they've been keeping tabs on you. On everything you've done here."

She stares at me, her lips parted slightly, her green eyes wide with shock.

"That's why Cassian is dangerous," I continue. "Because he's a threat to the Council. And if you align yourself with him, if you give the Council any reason to believe you're working against them?—"

"Then what?" she cuts me off, her voice trembling with anger. "What happens then, Adrian? Do they destroy me, too? Like they've destroyed so many others?"

The air between us crackles with tension, and I can feel my wolf stirring beneath the surface, responding to the heat in her voice, and the fire in her eyes.

"Elara," I start, but the words catch in my throat.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "You don't get to lecture me about threats, Adrian. Not when you're part of the same system that's trying to control everything I'm building."

"I'm trying to keep you safe," I say, my voice softer now.

Her laugh is bitter, hollow. "Safe? Funny how you keep mentioning this word. Who exactly are you protecting me from? From Cassian? Because it looks like I need protecting from you."

The words land like a strike, knocking the air from my lungs in a way I don't expect.

My mouth parts, instinct driving me to argue, to deny ?—

But nothing comes.

No words. No quick rebuttal. Just silence.

Because I don't know the answer.

My fists clench at my sides, the nails biting into my palms. The air feels heavier, pressing in around me, thick with something unspoken, something I can't push away.

And then?—

Heat.

It starts as a slow, simmering warmth beneath my ribs, deep and steady, but then it grows . The heat spreads outward, curling around my spine, and sinking into my skin. The world around us dulls—the flickering torches, the distant murmurs of wolves watching, whispering, plotting.

All of it fades.

All I can feel is her .

Her breath is uneven. The scent of her skin, something soft beneath all that fire. The way her pulse stutters, matches the erratic rhythm of my own.

My stomach tightens. My wolf, restless all night, awakens .

A deep, pulling sensation tightens between us, unseen but undeniable , like an invisible thread knotting itself into place. A tether—something binding, something final .

Something mine .

My vision sharpens, my instincts roaring to the surface.

I know .

And when my gaze locks onto hers, I see the same realization slamming into her.

Elara's breath catches, her pupils dilating as something flickers behind her expression—confusion, shock, recognition . Her hand trembles at her side before curling into a fist.

"No." The word is barely a whisper, her voice raw, uneven.

The warmth flares again, the connection pulsing between us. My wolf shifts , presses , urges me to move toward her, to claim what's already ours?—

But then she shakes her head, stepping back like she's trying to shake free of it.

"No," she says again, stronger now, her gaze burning into mine. "This isn't— I already had a mate. "

The haze fractures.

A sharp, cold pain slices through the warmth, cutting deep, and stopping me in my tracks.

I still .

Her words slam into me like a physical blow, unraveling the tangled confusion in my mind, and dragging a jagged edge through the moment. "What?" I choke out.

I already had a mate.

I don't know why those words feel like claws raking down my spine, why my body instinctively tightens, why the heat of the bond still pulses, still pulls , even as she backs away.

The panic in her eyes is real. The horror in her expression is real .

And before I can say anything—before I can make sense of it?—

She turns.

And runs .

The bond stretches between us, straining, my wolf raging beneath my skin, demanding I go after her, demanding I fix this .

But I don't move.

I can't.

Because in the space she leaves behind, in the lingering warmth of something that shouldn't be possible?—

I already know the truth.

Elara is my mate.

And though she hasn't rejected me, it's clear that she wants nothing to do with me.