Page 13 of Rebel for Claws (Rebellious Mates #4)

EIGHT

ALARIC

A n hour later, Alaric stood outside Vivian's suite with a silver tray balanced in his hands, his wolf practically vibrating beneath his skin at the prospect of being alone with his fated mate in such a confined space.

The rich aroma of garlic and herbs from the pasta dinner his chefs had prepared filled the hallway, accompanied by the deep burgundy wine he'd selected from his private collection.

Too romantic, he realized with a grimace as he took in the spread he'd unconsciously created. She's going to think I'm pushing too hard and too fast.

The mate bond pulsed stronger as he stood there on the other side of her door, his body responding to her proximity with an intensity that left him feeling like an inexperienced teenager rather than a seasoned Alpha.

Every instinct screamed at him to claim her, to mark her throat and make her his in the most primal way possible.

But trust had to come first—and trust required vulnerability he hadn't allowed himself in decades.

He knocked softly, then entered at her invitation.

The sight of her curled in one of the leather chairs, firelight dancing across her ethereal features and pale blonde hair, nearly stole his breath.

Her violet eyes tracked his movement as he crossed to the small table, and he caught the subtle way her pulse quickened at his approach.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, setting the tray down with careful precision. The domestic gesture felt foreign yet right in ways that unsettled him. "My chefs outdid themselves with the pasta."

"It smells incredible." Vivian's voice carried that smoky edge that made his wolf restless with desire. "Though I have to ask—is wine standard protocol for prisoner dinners?"

Alaric's laugh rumbled low in his chest as he poured two glasses of wine, acutely aware of how her eyes followed the movement of his hands.

"You're not a prisoner. You're..." My fated mate.

The other half of my soul. The woman I want to claim and protect and worship.

"You're an honored guest whose safety happens to be my top priority. "

"How diplomatic." She accepted the wine glass, their fingers brushing in a contact that sent electricity shooting up his arm. "But I suspect there's more to your motivations than simple hospitality."

If only you knew. Alaric settled into the chair across from her, fighting the urge to close the distance between them. The firelight softened her features, and he found himself studying the curve of her lips as she tasted the wine.

"You asked why I'm known throughout the territory as a cruel traditionalist," he said, forcing himself to focus on the conversation rather than the way her tongue darted out to catch a drop of wine.

"The simple answer is that I've spent thirty years playing a role to protect the people I care about. "

Vivian set down her glass with deliberate care. "That's quite an elaborate performance. Most people don't maintain character for three decades unless there's truth behind it."

"Well, the truth isn't what you think it is.

The truth is that I've been investigating Thorne and the High Council's corruption for the past fifteen years.

" Alaric's voice dropped to the dangerous tone that made pack members step back.

"Ever since human operatives murdered my Beta, Peter Cross, and his daughter. "

Her violet eyes sharpened with interest. "Logan's father?"

"Peter was going to tell me something important.

Something worth killing him to keep secret.

" Alaric took a long sip of wine, letting the memories surface.

"I suspected Thorne was behind it, but I needed proof.

Playing the loyal traditionalist gave me access to Council meetings and Thorne's inner circle. "

"That must have been torture," Vivian said quietly. "Living against your principles for so long."

The unexpected empathy in her voice made his chest tighten. "Every day. Especially when it affected my relationship with my sons. They thought I was the monster everyone believed me to be."

Vivian leaned forward, her expression intent. "But why the elaborate deception? Why not just challenge Thorne directly fifteen years ago?"

"Because I was naive enough to think evidence and proof mattered more than power," Alaric replied, meeting Vivian's gaze.

"Then next thing I knew, two years after Peter's murder, my mate was killed.

I believe Thorne had her killed to keep me in line.

At that point, I couldn't risk him targeting Kieran and Malcolm. "

"Thorne actually had your mate killed? Wow, that's heavy." The shock in her voice was genuine, and something protective flashed in her violet eyes that made his wolf rumble with satisfaction.

"Sarah and I had an arranged mating when I was eighteen and first became Alpha.

She was not my fated mate," he clarified, watching Vivian's reaction carefully.

"But she was the mother of my sons, and her death served Thorne's purposes perfectly.

A grieving, angry Alpha with two vulnerable teenage sons was easier to manipulate and control. "

Vivian's hands clenched around her wine glass. "That's monstrous."

"Well, it worked." Alaric set down his glass and leaned back, studying her face in the firelight. "Until five months ago, when I finally decided to stop playing his games and stand up for what I believed in."

"What changed?"

"My son found his fated mate. A hybrid," Alaric replied softly. "When I told Thorne I intended to accept Maya as part of our pack, he had me sedated and kidnapped that same night."

"What did they do to you in your captivity?" Vivian asked, her voice tight with anger on his behalf.

Alaric's jaw clenched as the memories surfaced—sterile rooms, needles, pain, and Thorne's mocking voice during his regular visits.

"Experiments. Blood draws. Testing the limits of Alpha regeneration and psychological manipulation.

Thorne would visit regularly to gloat about his progress with eliminating ancient bloodlines. "

"That bastard." Vivian's eyes flashed with a golden glow that seemed to indicate her ancient magic was stirring beneath the surface. "How did you escape then?"

"I played along until four nights ago, earning their trust by pretending his psychological manipulation was working.

" Alaric's voice turned deadly quiet. "When the perfect opportunity presented itself, I attacked Thorne directly, fought through his guards after being thrown into a van, and then ran fifteen miles through winter terrain to reach Cade's rebel compound. "

"Barefoot in medical garments?" Vivian's eyes widened with what looked suspiciously like admiration. "That should have killed you."

"Nearly did. But I refused to die before seeing my sons again." Alaric locked onto her gaze steadily. "And before completing what I should have finished fifteen years ago."

Vivian studied his face in the flickering light, and he could practically see her reassessing everything she thought she knew about him. "You're not the man I expected at all."

"What did you expect exactly?"

"A cold, calculating traditionalist who saw hybrids and humans as threats to be eliminated." Her smile held a hint of self-deprecation. "Not someone who's spent the last fifteen years secretly fighting the same battles I've been fighting."

If only you knew how much more we have in common. Alaric felt the mate bond pulse stronger between them, his wolf pushing against his control at her proximity and the growing trust in her voice.

"I regret not standing up to Thorne sooner," he admitted, vulnerability bleeding into his tone despite his efforts to maintain composure. "I thought I was protecting my family by playing the long game, but I see now that patience was just another form of cowardice."

"You protected your sons and gathered intelligence for fifteen years while living a lie that went against everything you believed in." Vivian's voice carried a warmth that made his chest tighten. "That's not cowardice—that's sacrifice."

The understanding in her violet eyes made him feel exposed in ways that both thrilled and terrified him.

For thirty years, he'd maintained perfect control, never allowing anyone to see beneath the Alpha mask he wore.

But this woman—his fated mate—seemed to see straight through his defenses with an ease that left him reeling.

"Well, now we have the momentum to take him down for good," he said, forcing himself to focus on strategy rather than the tantalizing curve of her lips.

"With the ancient texts you recovered, the testimony from my captivity, and the rebellion's growing strength coupled with the treaty, we can finally expose his corruption once and for all. "

"We definitely need a comprehensive game plan for that," Vivian stated firmly. "So what do you say? Will you let me help you in this fight now?"

Alaric's eyes locked with hers, seeing his own hope reflected there in her violet depths. "Only if you'll have me as an ally in this fight, and not your enemy anymore."

Alaric watched as understanding dawned in Vivian's violet eyes, her posture shifting from defensive to something approaching acceptance. The firelight caught the silver undertones in her pale hair, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the ethereal strands.

"Yes, I'll view you as my ally and not the enemy anymore," she said, setting down her wine glass with deliberate care. "I apologize for assuming your character before I got to really know you. That wasn't fair of me."

The genuine remorse in her voice caused his chest to tighten with an emotion he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. She sees me. Not the mask I've worn, but who I really am underneath.

"You don't have to apologize," Alaric replied, his voice rougher than intended.

"I probably would've acted the same way in your position.

" He paused and leaned forward, locking eyes with her.

"Let's start over fresh—no more assumptions about each other.

Let's just get to know each other openly and honestly from this point forward. "

"I would like that," Vivian said, and the warmth in her tone made his wolf hum with satisfaction.

The mate bond pulsed stronger between them in the intimate space, and Alaric found himself studying the curve of her lips again as she spoke. The domestic setting—sharing dinner and talking by firelight—felt simultaneously foreign and absolutely right in ways that both thrilled and terrified him.

"Actually, I have an idea," Vivian continued, leaning forward with sudden intensity.

"When I reviewed those ancient texts I stole from Moon Hollow very briefly before Damon and Elena kidnapped me four nights ago, something struck me.

" Her violet eyes gleamed with intellectual excitement.

"Could I review your Silvercrest lineage texts? Your ancestors' bloodline records?"

Alaric's eyebrows rose in surprise. "What are you thinking?"

"A theory that's been forming as we talked about why those scientists were experimenting on you during your captivity—testing your Alpha capabilities and blood." Vivian's voice carried the sharp edge of strategic thinking. "It seemed like they were searching for something specific."

Searching for something. The phrase resonated with uncomfortable accuracy.

Alaric nodded slowly, remembering the countless blood draws and genetic tests.

"That's exactly what I thought they were doing.

Like they were looking for dormant magical abilities or specific genetic markers that suggested my bloodline possessed them. "

"But you don't know of any magical abilities in your bloodline?" Vivian pressed, her analytical mind clearly working through possibilities.

"Not that I'm aware of," Alaric admitted, though something nagged at the edge of his memory—old stories his father had mentioned briefly before his death and some texts Alaric had read not too long ago, fragments of Silvercrest history that had never seemed relevant until now.

"But maybe way back there's something I was never told about.

Something my ancestors possessed or hid from the High Council. "

The implications hit him with physical force. What if Thorne's interest in me goes beyond political manipulation? What if there's something in my bloodline he's been trying to access or control this whole time?

"Maybe that's why Thorne was pressing you so hard for answers during your captivity," Vivian said, voicing his own thoughts. "Like the scientists uncovered something significant but didn't share their findings with you."

Alaric felt his wolf stir with predatory interest as pieces of a larger puzzle began falling into place.

The experiments, the psychological manipulation spanning thirty years, and Thorne's obsession with eliminating ancient bloodlines—what if it wasn't just about maintaining power, but about acquiring something specific for some bigger purpose?

"You think there might be a bigger connection between my bloodline and yours?" he asked, his Alpha instincts sharpening as the strategic implications became clear.

"It's possible," Vivian replied, her eyes glowing with that golden light. "If Thorne has been systematically hunting hybrids and shifters with ancient bloodlines, maybe he's been trying to piece together something larger. Something that requires multiple bloodlines to achieve."

The thought sent cold dread through Alaric's veins. Maybe a supershifter army containing powerful soldiers that harness ancient magic for Thorne's own nefarious purposes.

"I'll bring you to my private office tomorrow morning after I gather the records," Alaric said. "You can begin researching the Silvercrest bloodline history to uncover any connections between ancient shapeshifting powers and your magical lineage."

"Thank you," Vivian said, genuine gratitude warming her voice. "If there is something important there, something Thorne was trying to figure out or manipulate..."

"Then we'll use it against him," Alaric finished, his eyes meeting hers with shared determination.

The mate bond hummed strongly between them, and he realized that beyond the physical attraction and primal recognition, they were perfectly matched intellectually—two strategic minds working toward the same goal.

Perhaps finding my fated mate isn't a complication after all. Perhaps it's exactly what we both need to finally bring Thorne down and restore harmony to our shifter world.