Page 29 of Howl For A Kiss (Rebellious Mates #3)

TWENTY-SIX

DAMON

D amon's bare chest caught the morning light streaming in through their cabin windows, his muscles shifting as he leaned back against the couch and turned his phone on speaker.

This might actually work, Damon thought, watching Elena's eyes darken with desire as she tracked the movement of his free hand across his abdomen. Even in the middle of potentially revolutionary negotiations, the mate bond thrummed between them with electric intensity.

"We're proposing formal negotiations," Damon continued. "Rebellion leaders from all four pack territories meeting with moderate pack leaders. Let's frame it as building bridges, not burning them down."

Kieran's pause crackled through the phone before his measured response. "That's... ambitious. Who would represent each side?"

"Elena and I would helm the rebellion leadership.

You and Maya would represent moderate pack leaders.

" Damon's tactical mind was already working through logistics, his gaze never leaving Elena as she began spreading maps across their coffee table.

God, she's magnificent when she's in full tactical mode.

"Interesting dynamic," Kieran said, and Damon could hear the wheels turning in his best friend's mind. "Former Beta and hybrid rebellion leader now mated, representing both tradition and change."

"Yes, exactly." Elena looked up at that, her eyes bright with excitement. The sight sent heat spiraling through Damon. "We're living proof that evolution doesn't mean destruction."

"Give me a couple hours to work this out on the pack leader side," Kieran said. "You handle the rebellion leaders."

"Already on it." Damon ended the call and immediately began scrolling through his contacts. Time to see if this revolution has real teeth.

For the next two hours, their cabin transformed into a communications hub. Elena worked one side of the room while Damon commanded the other, their voices overlapping as they made call after call.

"Zachary, it's Elena Walsh," she said into her phone, her tone commanding respect. "We're organizing something unprecedented—a unified summit between all rebellion leaders and moderate pack leadership."

Damon watched his mate work, admiring the way her tactical mind engaged with each contact. Her fitted black thermal shirt hugged her curves perfectly, and every gesture reminded him exactly why he'd walked away from fifteen years of duty.

"No, this isn't surrender," Damon said into his own phone, speaking to a Granite Ridge rebellion leader. "This is us demanding equal representation at the negotiating table."

The responses varied wildly. Some rebellion leaders accused Elena and Damon of selling out to pack leadership. But many of the rebellion leaders did see this meeting as equal representation at a table they'd been denied sitting at for too long.

"The Lunar Summit," Elena announced to another contact, her voice holding that revolutionary zeal that made Damon's wolf howl with pride. "First official meeting between our sides in three centuries."

She's extraordinary, Damon thought, ending another call with a Silvercrest rebellion leader who'd agreed to participate. The way Elena commanded respect from hardened rebels while still maintaining her feminine grace—it was like watching a master tactician in action.

When Kieran called back exactly two hours later, Damon could hear the controlled excitement in his best friend's voice.

"It's being met with skepticism by pack leaders," Kieran reported.

"Same here with the rebellion leaders," Damon admitted, his eyes finding Elena's across the room. She was tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, the gesture unconsciously sensual. "But that's exactly what we expected."

"The important thing is, it's happening," Kieran continued. "Your status as mates from both sides is making people curious. They want to see what bridging these worlds actually looks like."

Elena moved to Damon's side, and he automatically wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. She melted into his warmth with perfect trust, and Damon felt that familiar surge of possessive protectiveness.

"I'll mediate," Kieran said. "But we keep this from the High Council. Absolute secrecy."

"Agreed." Damon's tactical mind was already working through security protocols. "They'd sabotage any attempt at real reform."

"Because they're the ones hell-bent on maintaining separation and control," Elena added, her voice carrying that fierce determination that made Damon's pulse quicken.

After ending Kieran's call, Elena immediately pulled out a legal pad and began drafting.

"Treaty proposal," she announced, her penmanship elegant even when writing at speed.

"Ceasefire between rebellion and pack leadership.

New inter-pack representation in pack hierarchies. Freedom of mating choices."

"And hybrid protection," Damon added, watching her work with growing admiration. "Plus human integration protocols."

Elena's hand moved across the page with practiced efficiency, her strategic mind translating revolutionary ideals into actionable policy. "This has to be ironclad. No loopholes for traditionalists to exploit."

Meanwhile, Damon focused on security and logistics, his Beta training proving invaluable. He placed calls to secure a neutral rebel stronghold, arranged protection details for all participants, and established communication protocols that would keep the High Council in the dark.

This is what my skills were truly meant for, Damon realized as he coordinated complex tactical arrangements. Not blindly enforcing oppressive laws but building bridges between worlds that needed each other.

Over the following days, intelligence reports flooded in. Some rebels feared betrayal—worried their leaders were being seduced by promises of legitimacy. Some pack members feared hope itself—terrified that change would destroy everything.

But underneath the fear, the momentum kept building. The Lunar Summit had given both sides something they'd never had before. The official recognition of the other's legitimacy.

"Many fear the Council's backlash if they discover what we're planning," Elena said, reviewing the latest communications with a frown that made Damon want to kiss the worry from her face.

"Let them fear," Damon said, his voice carrying fifteen years of accumulated authority. "Fear means they know we're powerful enough to actually bridge the gap between the two sides and bring the human and shifter worlds back together after three centuries."

And we are, he thought with fierce satisfaction. We're exactly powerful enough to change it all.

Two days later, the icy wind cut through the reinforced walls of the neutral stronghold, but nothing could penetrate the security protocols Damon had meticulously designed. As Cade's truck pulled up to the heavily guarded compound, Damon felt the weight of history pressing against his shoulders.

This is it, he thought, scanning the perimeter where his hand-selected guards maintained vigilant watch. Three centuries of separation ends today, one way or another.

"Your security network is impressive," Cade said as armed rebels escorted their truck through multiple checkpoints. "Haven't seen arrangements this thorough since my military days."

Damon's analytical mind cataloged each defensive position, satisfied with the coverage. "Experience has its advantages."

Elena's hand found his as they approached the main hall, and through their mate bond he felt her excitement crackling like electricity beneath her tactical composure.

She wore fitted black tactical pants, a thermal white shirt that hugged her curves, and combat boots—dressed for war but radiating feminine power that made his wolf stir with possessive pride.

She's beyond magnificent, Damon thought, his eyes drinking in the sight of her prepared for negotiations. My revolutionary queen.

The moment they stepped inside the hall, Damon's heightened senses registered the tension immediately.

One hundred rebellion leaders filled the left side of the massive space, their weathered faces reflecting decades of resistance.

Thirty moderate pack leaders occupied the right side, their expensive clothing and formal posture a stark contrast to the rebels' practical gear.

Like two armies sizing each other up across a battlefield, Damon observed, his tactical instincts assessing potential conflict points.

Kieran stood at the center podium, his commanding presence cutting through the hostile atmosphere. Maya flanked him, her copper-red hair catching the morning sunlight shining in through the tall windows.

"For three centuries," Kieran began, his voice rising above the packed seats, "our kinds have viewed each other as enemies. Today, we attempt something unprecedented—dialogue instead of bloodshed."

Murmurs rippled through both sides, suspicious and uncertain.

Damon positioned himself beside Elena at the front of the rebellion section, acutely aware of how their presence commanded attention. Every gaze in the room tracked their movement—former Beta turned rebel warrior, mated to the hybrid who represented everything the old ways feared.

We're living symbols, Damon realized with fierce satisfaction. Proof that evolution is possible.

Elena stepped forward, her treaty document in hand, and Damon felt his chest swell with pride as she commanded the room's attention with natural authority.

"This treaty proposes fundamental change," Elena announced, her voice filled with that revolutionary fire that made Damon's heart race. "Ceasefire between rebellion and pack leadership. New inter-pack representation. Freedom of mating choices. Hybrid protection. Human integration protocols."

The hall erupted.

"Impossible!" shouted a Granite Ridge pack leader.

"We've died for less!" countered a rebel from Tidewater territory.

Damon watched Elena weather the storm of voices, her blue eyes blazing with determination that made his wolf howl with admiration. Through their mate connection, he felt her unwavering resolve beneath the chaos.

Now, Damon thought, his instincts recognizing the perfect moment. Bold action when tensions peak.

"Elena and I will be having our official mating ceremony at the end of this summit," Damon announced, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

Stunned silence gripped the hall.

Elena's eyes went wide, but through their mate bond he felt her excitement and joy surge like wildfire. Her radiant smile told him everything he needed to know.

She loves the grand gesture, Damon thought with masculine satisfaction. My brave, rebellious, and beautiful mate.

"You see?" Kieran seized the moment masterfully. "Former pack leadership and rebellion leader now united. Tradition and change, finding harmony."

The silence stretched, electric with possibility.

"All in favor of ratifying this treaty," Kieran called.

Hands rose slowly across both sides—rebels and pack leaders voting together for the first time in three centuries.

"Motion carries," Kieran declared.

Elena and Kieran approached the signing table, representing rebellion and pack leadership, respectively. As they signed the historic document, Damon felt the weight of his fifteen years as Beta finally lift from his shoulders.

When Elena and Kieran raised their joined hands in unity, the hall erupted in cheers that shook the reinforced walls.

As Damon sat and watched Elena bask in her revolutionary triumph, he knew their future would be written in moments like this—bold, beautiful, and completely perfect.