Page 1 of Rebel for Claws (Rebellious Mates #4)

ONE

VIVIAN

S now crunched beneath Vivian's boots as she led her five rebel fighters through the skeletal branches surrounding Moon Hollow's meeting pavilion.

December's bite carved through her fitted jacket, but the cold sharpened her focus.

The ancient stone amphitheater loomed before them with its carved wolf totems that cast twisted shadows in the moonlight.

Four hundred years of secrets buried beneath our feet.

"Kelly, you're certain about the ward placement?" Vivian's breath formed silver clouds as she spoke.

Kelly's amber eyes glowed faintly as she traced intricate patterns in the air. "The magical signatures are strongest here. Old magic—older than anything the current High Council could weave."

Vivian's violet eyes shifted, and her pupils dilated as she called upon her owl heritage.

The world sharpened into crystalline detail.

Every snowflake and every carved rune became distinctly visible.

Her grandfather had warned her about revealing these unique abilities, but her rebel fighters had earned her trust through blood and shared purpose.

"There." She pointed to a section of seemingly solid stone beneath the pavilion's eastern edge. "That's the entrance."

Marc, their demolitions expert, whistled low. "Looks like regular rock to me."

"Because that's what they wanted everyone to see." Vivian knelt, running her fingers along the carved symbols. Ancient shapeshifter script—the same language her grandfather had taught her in secret. "Kelly, can you feel the ward structure?"

Kelly pressed her palms against the stone, her magic probing the mystical barriers.

"Seven layers. Each one keyed to different bloodlines.

" Her forehead creased in concentration.

"But there's something else. These wards.

.. they're not designed to keep people out. They're designed to keep secrets in."

The High Council feared what lay here enough to bury it beneath their own meeting grounds.

"How long do you need?"

"Give me ten minutes." Kelly's hands began to glow with soft green light. "The outer layers are weakening—whoever set these knew they wouldn't last forever but long enough to accomplish their goal. Or so they thought."

Vivian nodded to her other three rebels—Sage, the tracker; Devon, their tech specialist; and Zara, whose enhanced senses rivaled Vivian's own. They formed a perimeter, alert for any approach.

The first ward dissolved with a sound like breaking glass. Kelly's breathing quickened as she tackled the second layer. "These protections... they're beautiful and complex. Whoever crafted them obsessed over what they were protecting."

Whoever crafted these protections was hiding the truth about my ancestors. The first hybrid generation, who obviously held immense power to make the High Council this terrified.

Vivian felt the familiar tingle across her shoulder blades as her ancient magic responded to the dissipating wards. Her eyes began to glow gold, an involuntary reaction she couldn't quite suppress.

"Third layer down." Kelly's voice strained with effort. "The next one's going to fight back."

A crimson flash erupted from the stone. Kelly jerked backward, cradling her singed hands.

"I've got this." Vivian placed her palms where Kelly's had been, calling upon her bear heritage.

Strength flooded her muscles as she pushed against the ward's resistance.

The magical barrier bucked like a wild animal, but her hybrid nature originating from the first human magical queen of the Pacific Northwest Cascade territory gave her access to ancient power that modern shifters had forgotten.

The ward shattered.

"Impossible." Kelly stared at Vivian's unburned hands. "That should have torn your magic apart."

Because I'm not like the rest of you. Not entirely.

"Ancient shapeshifter bloodlines have their advantages." Vivian kept her tone light, masking the loneliness that statement carried. "Three more to go?"

Kelly worked faster now, her confidence boosted by Vivian's support. The remaining wards fell in quick succession, each one revealing more of the hidden chamber beneath.

Stone ground against stone as a section of the pavilion floor swung inward, revealing stairs carved into living rock. Stale air wafted upward, carrying the scent of old parchment and preserved magic.

"Devon, activate the signal dampeners." Vivian's panther reflexes kicked in as she scanned for threats. "From this point forward, we're invisible to all tracking."

She descended first, her owl eyes penetrating the absolute darkness. The stairs spiraled down farther than expected, ending in a circular chamber lined with alcoves. Ancient scrolls and leather-bound journals filled every available space, their preservation wards still humming with power.

"Sweet sacred trees." Sage's voice echoed with reverence. "How much history is stored here?"

"Four centuries' worth." Vivian approached the nearest alcove, her heart racing as she recognized the script on the scroll bindings. "The complete record of what the High Council systematically destroyed."

Kelly entered behind her, immediately moving to examine a collection of texts near the far wall. "These aren't just historical records. They're genealogies. Bloodline charts going back to the first matings."

The first mating of the Pacific Northwest Cascade territory. My great-great-great-great human grandmother and the Shadow pack wolf shifter who started it all.

Vivian pulled a scroll from its resting place, unrolling it carefully.

The parchment revealed detailed accounts of the Severance—but not the sanitized version the High Council taught.

This told of deliberate bloodline manipulation, of magical abilities systematically suppressed, and of hybrid children murdered to preserve their wolf shifter purity.

"We need to document everything." Vivian's voice carried steel beneath the whisper. "Every name, every date, and every crime they covered up."

"Look at this." Kelly held up a journal bound in midnight-blue leather.

"Personal accounts from the first generation of magical hybrid shifters.

They describe magical abilities that most of us have only dreamed of—full multi-animal transformations, elemental manipulation, and healing that could bring back the recently dead. "

Magical abilities that flowed through my veins right now.

"How long do we have?" Vivian asked Devon.

"Another hour before the patrol shift change. After that, our window closes."

"Then we work fast." Vivian began gathering the most crucial documents, her movements fluid and efficient. "Priority goes to anything documenting the elder who orchestrated the Severance. That's our smoking gun."

As her rebel fighters worked with practiced precision, Vivian found herself drawn to a particular alcove. Something called to her ancient blood, pulling her toward a collection of scrolls wrapped in silver cord. She reached for them, her fingers tingling with recognition.

These weren't just records. They were a legacy—her legacy—waiting three centuries for the right descendant to reclaim them.

Tonight, the truth begins to see daylight again.

Thirty minutes later, Vivian signaled to her rebel group that it was time to move out of the secret ancient archives before the Council guards detected them during the patrol change.

Their escape from Moon Hollow was a blur of adrenaline and stealth through the snowy forest. Vivian and her team moved like ghosts between the trees, their enhanced senses alert for any signs of pursuit.

The weight of the ancient scrolls and journals in her satchel felt heavier than gold—these documents could reshape everything their shifter world believed about their history.

"Movement, southwest ridge," Sage whispered as they cleared Moon Hollow's perimeter.

Kelly's magic soon masked their scent, but Vivian's owl-enhanced vision had caught the glint of weapons in the moonlight. Three figures in tactical gear, closing fast on their position.

"Scatter protocol," Vivian ordered, her voice barely audible. "Rendezvous at base in thirty."

They'd made it back to their rebel stronghold just after midnight. The ten-mile journey through treacherous mountain terrain in December's bitter cold had tested even their enhanced endurance, but the prize they'd secured had made it all worthwhile.

Now, an hour later, in the sanctuary of her corner office within the reinforced cabin that served as their base, Vivian finally allowed herself to breathe.

The ancient scrolls lay spread across her oak desk, their silver cord bindings reflecting the warm glow of her reading lamp.

Her violet eyes traced the extinct shapeshifter script, her grandfather's teachings unlocking secrets that had been buried for centuries.

The High Council didn't just create the Severance laws. They planned them decades in advance.

The leather-bound journal before her contained detailed correspondence between the Council elders, dated forty years before the official Severance decree.

Their intent was crystal clear—systematic elimination of magical hybrid bloodlines through legal restriction, social isolation, and when necessary, targeted assassination.

"Grandfather, you were right to hide us," she whispered to the empty room, her fingers tracing a passage that described the "final solution" for the "magical contamination" of pure wolf bloodlines.

The documents revealed the true scope of the Council's deception.

They hadn't acted out of tradition or fear of human discovery.

They'd orchestrated the Severance to consolidate power, eliminating magical hybrid families who posed a threat to their control and rule.

Every arranged mating, every territorial restriction, and every "accident" that claimed hybrid lives—all part of a centuries-long campaign of genocide.

My family wasn't the exception. We were the enemy.