Page 12 of Rebel for Claws (Rebellious Mates #4)
SEVEN
VIVIAN
T he confined space of the SUV magnified every sensation—the subtle scent of Alaric's cologne mixing with leather seats, the tension radiating from his broad shoulders in the passenger seat, and the electric current that seemed to pulse between them with each mile that passed.
Vivian pressed herself against the window in the back seat, trying to create distance from the infuriating pull she felt toward the man who'd just upended her entire existence.
This is ridiculous. I'm being treated like a helpless damsel who needs constant protection and supervision.
"I can protect myself you know," she said, breaking the silence that had settled over them since leaving Logan's cabin. Her voice carried an edge that made Kieran glance at her in the rearview mirror. "I've been doing it successfully my whole life."
Alaric's hands flexed against his thighs, and she caught the subtle movement from her peripheral vision. "The fact that you've survived this long doesn't mean you can handle what's coming now that the High Council knows you exist."
"You don't know what I can handle." The mate bond hummed between them like a live wire, making her skin feel too tight and her pulse quicken despite her irritation.
"Everyone keeps acting like I'm made of glass.
Like I'm some fragile flower who needs to be locked away while the real fighters handle things. "
Maya turned in the back seat, her green eyes sympathetic. "It's not about thinking you're fragile. It's about recognizing that you're the biggest target in the territory right now. If Thorne captures you?—"
"Then I'll kill him myself." The words came out flat and deadly serious, and Vivian felt a flicker of satisfaction when Alaric's shoulders tensed. "I'm not helpless. I'm a warrior. I've been training for this my entire life."
"Training for what, exactly?" Alaric's voice held a note of genuine curiosity that surprised her. "What did your family tell you about your heritage?"
Vivian hesitated, torn between her instinctive secrecy and the strange compulsion to share with this man who represented everything she should despise. The mate bond made lying feel wrong somehow, as if dishonesty would cause her physical pain.
He did acknowledge that I was formidable. Maybe he does actually see me as an equal.
"My grandfather told me I was different.
That I carried the bloodline of the first shapeshifters who could take multiple forms and who had magic beyond anything the modern packs retained.
" She met Alaric's eyes when he turned his head, noting how they'd shifted to that molten gold that seemed to indicate strong emotion.
"He trained me to fight, to survive, and to lead.
But he never told me I was part of some ancient prophecy or that the Council had been hunting my bloodline for centuries. "
"Your grandfather sounds like a wise man," Kieran said quietly. "Keeping you hidden until you were strong enough to handle the truth."
"Strong enough?" Vivian's laugh held no humor. "I've been strong enough since I was eighteen. And I've been fighting for reform for the past ten years and leading my own rebel group for the past year. I don't need to be locked away in another place while everyone else takes the risks."
The December moon had risen fully now, casting silver light across the snow-covered landscape rushing past their windows. Vivian felt its pull in her bones, the ancient magic in her blood responding to the lunar energy in ways that modern shifters couldn't understand.
"You'll have a role in what's coming," Alaric said, his Alpha voice carrying a note of finality. "But first, you need to understand the full scope of what we're facing. Thorne isn't just hunting you—he's trying to eliminate any and every trace of the ancient bloodlines to maintain his power."
"Then let me help eliminate him." Vivian leaned forward, her violet eyes flashing with determination. "I stole those ancient texts for a reason. I know things about the Severance and about the original magic that could be crucial to taking him down."
Maya's expression grew thoughtful. "Lena mentioned that you could read the extinct shapeshifter language. That's incredibly rare knowledge."
"My grandfather made sure I could access our history directly, not through the Council's sanitized versions.
" Vivian felt a surge of pride at Maya's obvious respect.
"I know a bit about the dormant magical genes and about what happens when the ancient bloodlines mate with modern shifters.
I think I know why Thorne is so desperate to eliminate us. "
Alaric's hands clenched into fists, and she caught the subtle scent of his wolf rising to the surface. "Because hybrid matings restore the ancient abilities, right? Because that threatens the very power structure he's spent three centuries building."
"Exactly." Vivian met his gaze again, surprised by the intelligence and understanding she saw there.
Maybe the stories about him being a mindless traditionalist were wrong. Maybe there's more to him than I assumed.
The SUV turned through massive iron gates, and Vivian caught her first glimpse of the Silvercrest estate. Even in the moonlight, the sprawling stone mansion exuded power and elegance, surrounded by acres of pristine snow-covered grounds that spoke of generations of Alpha wealth and influence.
"Impressive," she said dryly as they pulled up the circular drive. "Very traditional."
Alaric's laugh surprised her—rich and genuine, with none of the cold authority she'd expected. "You'll find that many things about my life aren't quite what they appear on the surface."
The SUV stopped in front of the main entrance, and Kieran cut the engine. The sudden silence felt loaded with unspoken tension, the mate bond crackling between her and Alaric like electricity before a storm.
"Thank you for the ride," Vivian said to Kieran and Maya as they all climbed out. "And for understanding that I'm not going to sit quietly while my destiny unfolds around me."
Maya smiled, the expression warm and encouraging. "Trust me, I understand the frustration. But sometimes strategic patience is the most powerful weapon we have."
Alaric moved to stand beside her as Kieran and Maya prepared to leave, his presence both comforting and disturbing in ways that made her wolf restless beneath her skin. The mate bond hummed stronger now in the moonlight, as if the lunar energy was amplifying their connection.
"I'll show you to your room," he said quietly. "And then, if you're willing, I'd like to have dinner. Just the two of us."
Vivian studied his face in the silver moonlight, noting the way the shadows emphasized the strong line of his jaw and the intensity in his grey eyes.
Everything logical in her mind screamed that spending time alone with him was dangerous— not because she feared he'd harm her, but because the mate bond made her want things she'd never allowed herself to want.
He's offering to treat me as an equal. To actually talk to me instead of just issuing orders. Maybe I can make him understand that I won't be sidelined any further.
"Fine," she said, ignoring the way her pulse quickened at the thought of being alone with him. "But I want answers. About your real agenda, about what you actually believe, and about why you're not the rigid traditionalist everyone says you are."
Alaric's smile was barely visible in the moonlight, but she caught the flash of something that looked almost like relief. "I think that's exactly what we both need right now. Complete honesty."
Complete honesty. As if either of us is ready for that level of vulnerability. As if admitting this mate bond exists won't complicate everything we're trying to accomplish.
But as they walked toward the imposing entrance of his estate, Vivian found herself looking forward to the conversation despite every instinct that warned her to maintain her distance.
The mate bond pulled her toward him like gravity, and for the first time since being brought to Silvercrest territory, she wondered if embracing her destiny might mean more than just fulfilling an ancient prophecy.
Maybe it means finding the one person who can finally understand her.
The moonlight streamed through tall windows as Alaric guided Vivian through the main entrance of his estate, the marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers that cast dancing shadows across ornate tapestries.
The sheer scale of the mansion made her feel momentarily small—soaring ceilings, elegant archways, and artwork that spoke of centuries of Alpha wealth and power.
"This way," he said, his deep voice echoing softly in the grand foyer as he led her toward a sweeping staircase that curved gracefully to the second floor.
His hand rested briefly at the small of her back, the simple touch sending electric currents through her body that made her wolf pace restlessly beneath her skin.
Focus. This is just the mate bond playing tricks with your mind.
But as they climbed the marble steps, Vivian was acutely aware of his presence beside her—the way his dark jeans emphasized his powerful thighs, how his thermal henley stretched across his broad shoulders, and the intoxicating scent of pine and lemon that seemed to cling to his skin.
"The east wing should provide you with privacy and comfort," Alaric said as they reached the second floor landing, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that caused her heart to race. "Though I suspect you're more accustomed to sparse accommodations given your rebel lifestyle."
"I can adapt to luxury." Vivian kept her voice steady despite the way her body responded to his proximity. "Though I prefer functionality over opulence."
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "Then you'll appreciate the practical amenities I'm including."
He opened heavy oak doors to reveal a suite that took her breath away.
The bedroom featured a king-sized bed with midnight blue linens, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking snow-covered grounds, and a sitting area with leather chairs and a small table positioned before a stone fireplace.
But what caught her attention were the subtle modifications—reinforced window frames, multiple exit points, and sight lines that spoke of defensive positioning.
He thinks like a warrior, not just an Alpha.
"What size clothing and shoes do you wear?" Alaric asked, moving to stand near the fireplace where the flickering flames cast shadows across his strong features. "I'll have my staff provide a complete wardrobe tomorrow so you can be comfortable during your stay here."
"Size eight shoes, medium tops, and size six pants and dresses," she replied, then added with a challenging edge, "Though I prefer tactical gear over evening gowns."
His laugh was rich and warm. "I wouldn't dream of putting you in anything impractical. You'll need freedom of movement for training."
"Training?" Vivian raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself.
"You have full access to my personal gym and any weapons stored there that might interest you.
" Alaric's eyes held hers steadily. "I think it's important that you maintain your focus and edge right now, especially since Thorne's Council operatives are actively hunting you.
Your skills are formidable, but staying sharp could mean the difference between life and death. "
The acknowledgment of her abilities again sent unexpected warmth through her chest. "That's... surprisingly thoughtful," she admitted, then caught herself before revealing too much appreciation. "Though I maintain my training regimen regardless of circumstances."
"I wouldn't expect anything less." His voice carried a note of genuine respect that made her wolf preen with satisfaction.
"I'll have dinner prepared and brought to your suite.
I'd like to join you here in your sitting area for our conversation, if that's acceptable.
Privacy will serve us both better than the formal dining room. "
Vivian studied his face, searching for hidden agendas or manipulation tactics. Instead, she found only straightforward honesty and something that looked almost like nervous anticipation.
"Thank you for providing all of this," she said, gesturing toward the luxurious accommodations. "And for your protection, even though I'm still not entirely convinced I need it."
"You're welcome." Alaric moved toward the door, then paused with his hand on the handle.
"I'll return when dinner arrives. And Vivian?
" His grey eyes had shifted to that molten gold that indicated intense emotion.
"I know you have every reason to distrust me based on my public reputation.
But I hope tonight you'll allow me to show you who I really am beneath the facade I've maintained for three decades. "
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Vivian alone in the opulent suite with her racing thoughts and the scent of pine and lemon that still lingered in the air.
Who is he really? As if thirty years of rigid traditionalism can be explained away with a single conversation.
But even as the logical part of her mind maintained its skepticism, her body betrayed her with entirely different reactions.
The mate bond hummed stronger now in the confined space where his presence still seemed to linger, making her skin feel hypersensitive and her wolf restless with unfamiliar needs.
Vivian moved to the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames as she tried to process the conflicting emotions warring within her.
For thirty-five years, she'd prided herself on complete independence—never needing anyone and never allowing vulnerability to compromise her strength or judgment.
The very idea of depending on someone else, especially a man with Alaric's reputation for control and authority, should have repulsed her.
Instead, she found herself imagining what it might feel like to let someone else share the burden of constant vigilance she'd carried her whole life.
To have a partner who could match her strength instead of being threatened by it.
To explore the electric attraction that sparked between them every time they were in the same room.
This is dangerous thinking. The mate bond is clouding my judgment, making me want things I've never allowed myself to want.
But as she settled into one of the leather chairs to wait for dinner, Vivian couldn't deny the anticipation building in her chest. Despite every logical reason to maintain her distance, she was eager to unravel the layers of mystery surrounding this dangerous, stoic man who seemed to see her as an equal rather than a threat to be contained.
Maybe it's time to discover if the real Alaric Silvercrest is worth the risk of letting my guard down.