Page 21 of Rebel for Claws (Rebellious Mates #4)

FIFTEEN

VIVIAN

T he morning air bit through Vivian's tactical gear as she and Alaric made their way across the snow-covered terrain, their breath forming crystalline clouds in the frigid atmosphere.

Twenty miles stretched between the cave where they'd taken shelter and the sanctuary of Alaric's estate.

Her boots crunched rhythmically against the frozen ground, each step a steady metronome that matched the quickened pace of her heart.

Beside her, Alaric cut an imposing figure despite his disheveled state.

His torn white formal shirt hung open, revealing glimpses of the muscled chest she'd explored so thoroughly the night before.

The fabric fluttered in the winter wind, and his black dress pants bore tears from their hasty escape through the forest yesterday.

Even battered and travel-worn, he radiated the unmistakable powerful authority of an Alpha—commanding, protective, and utterly male.

They walked in comfortable silence, but Vivian's mind churned with memories of their intimate encounter in the cave.

Heat pooled low in her belly as she recalled the way his hands had claimed every inch of her skin, and the reverent hunger in his storm-grey eyes as he'd worshipped her body with his mouth and tongue.

She'd been fantasizing about him since their challenge four days ago, when the mate bond had first sparked to life between them.

But the reality had been so much more intense than her imagination could have conjured.

The way he'd taken control and the possessive growl in his voice when he'd called her his—it had shattered every defense she'd built around her heart.

Why had I resisted him for so long? The question whispered through her mind as they navigated around a fallen log.

Fear, she supposed. Fear of vulnerability and of letting someone else hold that kind of power over her.

But last night had shown her the futility of fighting what was inevitable.

Alaric wasn't just her mate—he was her equal, her match in every way that mattered.

"You're quiet," Alaric observed, his voice cutting through her reverie. Steam rose from his lips as he spoke, and she found herself staring at his mouth, remembering how those lips had felt against her skin.

"Just thinking," she replied, adjusting the leather harness that held her twin swords across her back. The familiar weight was comforting, grounding her in the present even as her thoughts drifted to heated memories.

His eyes, sharp and perceptive even in his exhausted state, studied her profile. "About last night?"

The directness of the question shouldn't have surprised her—Alaric wasn't a man who shied away from difficult conversations. But it still sent a flush of heat across her cheeks.

"Among other things," she admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. "I was thinking about how right it felt."

Something shifted in his expression—a softening around the edges that made her chest tight with emotion. "No regrets then?"

"None," she said firmly, the word carrying weight. It was a declaration, an acceptance of everything that lay between them. "I'm done fighting this, Alaric. Done fighting us."

He stopped walking, his hand reaching out to catch her arm gently. When she turned to face him fully, the intensity in his storm-grey eyes nearly stole her breath.

"What are you saying?" His voice was rough and carefully controlled, but she could hear the hope threaded through it.

"I'm saying I trust you. Completely." She stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body despite the winter chill. "I'm saying that when this madness is over, I want to explore what we could be together. All of it."

His jaw clenched, and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Vivian?—"

"I can picture it," she interrupted, her voice taking on a dreamy quality as the vision crystallized in her mind.

"Our future. Sunshine and peace. A world where hybrids, humans, and shifters coexist without fear.

Where we don't have to hide what we are or who we love.

" She reached up, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw.

"I can see us building that world together. "

The vulnerability in her admission hung between them like mist, delicate and precious. For someone who'd spent her entire life guarding her emotions, laying her heart bare felt both terrifying and liberating.

Alaric's hand covered hers where it rested against his face, his eyes changing to that molten gold she was beginning to love. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that."

"Then why do you look like you're about to argue with me?" she teased, though her pulse quickened at the predatory intensity in his gaze.

"Because the thought of anything happening to you before we get that future makes me want to lock you away somewhere safe and never let you leave," he growled, his thumb stroking across her knuckles. "You're mine now, Vivian. And I protect what's mine."

The possessive declaration sent a thrill down her spine. "I can protect myself, Alpha."

"I know you can," he said, leaning down until his forehead rested against hers. "But that doesn't mean you have to anymore."

The simple statement cracked something open inside her chest—something she hadn't even realized was still locked away. Partnership. True partnership with someone who saw her strength and valued it while still wanting to stand beside her.

They resumed their trek through the snow, but the silence between them now felt charged with possibility rather than contemplation. Every few minutes, their hands would brush as they walked, sending sparks of awareness through the mate bond that connected them.

By the time Alaric's estate came into view, Vivian's body was humming with more than just the exertion of their journey.

The imposing mansion rose before them like a fortress, its stone walls and tall windows speaking of old money and older power.

She'd grown comfortable there over the past few days, but now it felt different. It felt like she was coming home.

"Go get cleaned up," Alaric said as they approached the front entrance, his hand settling possessively at the small of her back. "Take all the time you need. We'll start planning our next move once you're ready."

She nodded, already anticipating the luxury of a hot shower after their frigid trek. But as she reached for the door handle, she couldn't resist turning back to him.

"Alaric?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For last night, for protecting me, for showing me the real you." She stood on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that tasted of winter air and promises. "For giving me something worth fighting for now."

Before he could respond, she disappeared through the doorway, her heart lighter than it had been in years. Behind her, she heard his sharp intake of breath and the muttered curse that followed—the sound of a man pushed to the very edge of his considerable control.

The hot water had done wonders for washing away the grime and tension from yesterday, but nothing could cleanse the vivid memories from Vivian's mind. As she toweled off her damp hair, heat surged through her veins at the recollection of Alaric claiming her body against the cave wall.

She selected a fitted green sweater and dark jeans from the extensive wardrobe he'd provided, marveling again at his thoughtfulness.

The cashmere felt like silk against her skin, and she couldn't help but wonder if Alaric would appreciate how the soft fabric hugged her curves.

The thought sent another wave of heat through her.

The mate bond had definitely scrambled her priorities.

Focus, Vivian, she chided herself, pulling on her leather boots. They had serious work ahead of them, and she couldn't afford to be distracted by fantasies of her devastatingly attractive mate.

But as she made her way to Alaric's private office, her pulse quickened with anticipation that had nothing to do with strategy sessions.

She found him standing behind his oak desk dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal henley that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. His short black hair was still damp from his own shower, and when he looked up at her entrance, those piercing grey eyes heated with unmistakable desire.

"Perfect timing," he said, his voice rougher than usual. "I've arranged a conference call with the other Alphas and pack leaders who witnessed yesterday's attack."

Vivian nodded, settling into one of the chairs facing his desk. "What's the plan?"

"I need to solidify their support for taking down the High Council permanently.

After Thorne's human operatives attacked them yesterday, several are ready to declare war against the Council.

" He moved around the desk to lean against its edge, his proximity making her acutely aware of his intoxicating scent.

"You can listen in, but don't speak. We're still keeping our. .. partnership... under wraps."

The way he said 'partnership' with that slight hesitation made her stomach flutter. She understood the necessity of secrecy, even if part of her wanted to shout from the rooftops that this incredible man was hers.

"Understood," she agreed, crossing her legs and noting how his gaze briefly tracked the movement.

Alaric pressed a button on his desk console, and within moments, voices began filtering through the speaker system. Alpha Gage from Tidewater pack was first to respond, his gravelly tone tight with barely controlled anger.

"Silvercrest, about damn time. We need to discuss what happened at Moon Hollow."

"Agreed," came another voice—Alpha Brock from Shadow pack. "Thorne's human operatives firing on pack leaders in sacred neutral ground was a declaration of war in my book."

Vivian watched Alaric transform before her eyes, his posture straightening as he assumed his Alpha mantle. The authority that radiated from him was magnetic, and she found herself captivated by this commanding side of her mate.

"Gentlemen," Alaric began, his voice carrying the weight of absolute power, "yesterday's attack proved what we've suspected for a long time. The High Council has become a corrupt institution that threatens the very foundation of our shifter society."

"And what exactly are you proposing we do about it?" This from Alpha Garrett of Granite Ridge—Thorne's own pack. His tone was carefully neutral, but Vivian detected underlying tension.

"I'm proposing we remove Thorne from power permanently," Alaric stated without hesitation. "The rebellion has evidence of his crimes spanning three centuries. It's time to act."

A chorus of agreement echoed through the speaker, but then Alpha Brock's voice cut through with a question that made Vivian's blood run cold.

"Speaking of the rebellion, Silvercrest, what is your relationship with that hybrid who crashed our meeting? You seemed awfully... protective of her for someone with your traditional reputation."

Vivian felt her mate's tension spike through their bond, his jaw clenching as possessive fury flashed across his features. She watched his hands slowly curl into fists, the careful control he maintained threatening to snap.

"My actions were purely strategic," Alaric replied, his voice dangerously quiet. "She possesses vital intelligence about Thorne's operations."

"Strategic?" Alpha Gage's laughter held no humor. "Alaric, I've known you for thirty years. The way you moved to shield her wasn't strategy—that was pure Alpha instinct."

Shit. Vivian's heart began to race as she realized how close they were to exposure. Several more voices joined in, pressing for details about Alaric's sudden shift from rigid traditionalist to apparent hybrid sympathizer.

"This is highly irregular, Silvercrest," Beta Kane from Granite Ridge commented. "Your public support of the rebellion, your protection of that hybrid female... it raises questions about your true loyalties."

Alaric's control was visibly fraying, his grey eyes shifting toward dangerous gold. Vivian could practically feel the predatory energy rolling off him in waves as the pack leaders continued questioning his motivations.

"My loyalties," he growled, "are to the future of our people. If that means working with hybrids and the rebellion to remove a corrupt tyrant?—"

"But why this particular hybrid?" Alpha Brock pressed. "She's dangerous, Alaric. What makes you think she can be trusted?"

The possessive snarl that rumbled from Alaric's chest made Vivian's pulse spike with primal awareness. She could see him struggling against the instinct to defend his mate and to claim her publicly regardless of consequences.

Without conscious thought, she rose from her chair and moved to his side, placing her hand gently on his forearm. The contact immediately seemed to ground him, his breathing steadying as their mate bond hummed with soothing energy.

His eyes met hers with gratitude and something deeper—love, she realized with a jolt of surprise. Not just desire or territorial claiming, but genuine emotion that made her chest tight with answering feeling.

"Gentlemen," Alaric said, his voice regaining its commanding steadiness, "personal motivations aside, we have a war to plan. Are you prepared to stand with me against the High Council, or are we going to waste time with irrelevant speculation?"

The authority in his tone brooked no further argument. One by one, the Alphas pledged their support for removing Thorne from power, agreeing to coordinate their efforts under Alaric's leadership.

"Excellent," Alaric concluded. "I'll be in touch with specific operational details soon. Until then, maintain your current security protocols and trust no one outside your immediate circles."

He ended the call and immediately pulled Vivian into his arms, his face buried in her neck as he breathed in her scent.

"That was close," she murmured, her hands stroking through his hair.

"Too close," he agreed against her skin. "But we bought ourselves time."

She pulled back to meet his gaze, seeing both relief and determination burning in those storm-grey depths.

"You did brilliantly," she said, meaning every word. "Keeping your composure like that and convincing them to follow your lead—you're going to make a very powerful leader when this is all over."

His hands cupped her face. "We're going to make powerful leaders. Together."

The promise in his voice sent shivers through her. They were one step closer to victory. One step closer to the future they'd envisioned together.