Page 7 of Heart of the Rebel Mate (Wolf Billionaire #5)

CHAPTER 7

ELARA

T he underground wrestling spot thrums with raw energy—bodies slamming against mats, the air thick with sweat, damp earth, and the metallic tang of blood. This is the only place where my mind doesn't consume me.

I tighten my gloves, rolling my shoulders. I need this. I need the burn, the rush, anything to drown out the pull of him.

Adrian.

The heat of his touch still lingers, the bond settling deep in my bones. But that shouldn't be possible. I had a mate once—a bond severed as quickly as it formed. I had survived. So how the hell did fate tether me again?

A sharp whistle.

"Thorne!" Garret is one of the few people I trust in this place—a fighter, like me, who knows when to push and when to back off.

Garret stands near the mat, blue eyes gleaming with amusement. He's built for combat—strong, fast, relentless—but more than that, he's trusted.

"You planning to stand there all night?" he taunts.

I shake off the haze, stepping onto the mat. "You in a rush to lose?"

We fight. Strike, counter, block, sweep—every move sharp, controlled. The moment he lunges, I pivot, grip his shoulder, and use his momentum to slam him down. He hits the mat with a grunt.

The fog in my head clears, but beneath the adrenaline, something lingers.

The bond.

I extend a hand, smirking. "Still got it."

Garret laughs, brushing off dirt. "You got lucky."

For the next hour, it's all movement—no thoughts, no doubts. Just the fight. By the time he pins me, my chest heaves and my muscles burn, but it feels good.

"Not bad," he grins, helping me up.

"Not bad? You're lucky I didn't break your nose."

He laughs, clapping my shoulder, and for a moment, the world is simple again.

Then—

"Elara."

I freeze mid-sip.

Zara stands at the entrance, face pale, phone clutched tight.

My stomach twists.

Something's wrong.

"Can we talk?" she asks, glancing around the room. Her voice is tight, almost brittle, and I feel my stomach drop further.

I lead Zara down the back hallway, where the hum of the gym fades to a distant murmur. The fluorescent lights flicker slightly, casting long shadows against the scuffed tile floor. She paces, restless energy radiating off her in waves, fingers tapping rapidly against her phone screen.

"Zara," I say, firmer this time. "What is it?"

She stops, thrusting her phone toward me, her dark eyes burning with intensity. "This," she says, swiping through multiple files before landing on a document filled with dense text and highlighted sections. "The Council. Their real methods for keeping control."

I take the phone, my fingers brushing against hers. The words blur for a second before coming into focus.

Manipulation of fated mate bonds. Forced pairings. Severed connections deemed 'strategically necessary.'

My stomach twists.

"This can't be real," I whisper, but the conviction in my voice falters.

Zara exhales sharply. "It's very real. They've been doing this for decades, Elara. Controlling wolves through their own instincts, deciding who rises and who falls."

She swipes to another file—a list of names, some highlighted, others struck through. Dates line up beside them.

Velmar Summit, 1976. Alpha Geraint of Blackmere, bonded to a human woman. The bond was forcibly severed weeks before he was expected to challenge the Council's expansion into Blackmere territory. Within a month, he withdrew his opposition. Two months later, he vanished.

The Aurex Uprising, 1989. A coalition of packs led by Alric Faelan had begun organizing resistance against the Council's territorial restrictions. His mate, Lara Faelan, disappeared without a trace before their first summit. Days later, Alric called off the rebellion. A year after that, he was dead, a 'hunting accident' no one questioned too closely.

The Selwyn Incident, 2003. A young, progressive leader—Lysander Selwyn—challenged the Council's economic policies. He had been set to bond with a powerful female alpha, a union that would have solidified his influence. His bond snapped weeks before the announcement. The Council called it 'natural incompatibility.' Within a year, he had faded into obscurity, stripped of all political power.

I read faster, my pulse thundering in my ears, my grip on the phone tightening.

"This isn't just control," I murmur, voice unsteady. "It's targeted dismantling. They break people before they become a threat."

Zara nods grimly. "Every wolf on this list was either a political threat or had the potential to reshape power dynamics. And every single one of them had their mate bond tampered with."

My breath catches as something else clicks into place. Cassian's rejection. His sudden change.

I glance at Zara. "He told me," I say, voice hoarse. "Cassian. That they forced him to reject me. They told him I was a liability."

"What?" Zara asks, her brows furrowing.

"Cassian," I say, the name bitter on my tongue. "He told me the Council pressured him to reject me. They said I was dangerous because of my ideals."

A chill spreads through my chest. "If this is real... if they've been doing this for decades, then what if they've been watching me long before the project?" The thought slips out before I can stop it.

Zara's fingers tighten around her phone. "It's possible." She exhales. "But we don't know for sure. Could just be a coincidence."

Could it?

I try to push down the growing unease clawing its way up my spine.

Zara continues, swiping through the files. "One name keeps popping up—'Lucas.' No last name, just Lucas. He's mentioned in older records, tied to cases of... interference."

The air leaves my lungs. My pulse stutters.

I barely hear myself when I say, "That's my dad's name."

Zara's head snaps up.

I force out a strained laugh, shaking my head. "It's just a coincidence. Lucas is a common name."

Zara doesn't respond, just watches me carefully.

I swallow, but the doubt is already sinking in, the weight of it pressing on my ribs. My father died when I was thirteen. A car accident. A rainy night. That's what everyone said. That's what my mother believed—until she wasted away, the bond between them broken beyond repair.

But what if it wasn't just an accident?

My hands curl into fists.

Zara shifts, her expression unreadable. "You think it could be him?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I—I never thought he had any connection to something like this."

But the memories resurface, unbidden. My father's firm voice. His strong stance on doing what was right. The way he always seemed wary of people with too much power.

Zara studies me. "It might be nothing. It might be something. But if you want to find out, we dig."

I exhale sharply, nodding once. "Yeah. We dig."