Page 9 of Rebel for Claws (Rebellious Mates #4)

FIVE

VIVIAN

T he sharp knock echoed through the cabin just as the December sun began its descent behind the towering pines and cast long shadows across the living room floor where Vivian had been pacing like a caged predator.

Logan's entire body went rigid, his hand instinctively moving toward the concealed weapon at his hip before he processed the familiar rhythm of the knock.

"Expecting someone?" Vivian's violet eyes narrowed as she watched Logan's tactical assessment of the situation.

Zoe emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel with deliberate casualness that fooled no one. "Actually, yes. We arranged a meeting for you."

"Another meeting?" Vivian's voice carried the sharp edge of betrayal. "I don't recall agreeing to any such arrangement. Especially after spending the morning with Lena learning about prophecies and ancient bloodlines."

Of course they knew I wouldn't want this meeting. That's exactly why they ambushed me with it.

Logan opened the front door with fluid precision, and Vivian's breath caught in her throat.

The man standing on the threshold commanded attention effortlessly—tall, powerfully built, with short black hair touched by silver at the temples and the kind of presence that made the air itself seem to vibrate with authority.

But it was the inexplicable recognition that hit her like a physical blow, a restless knowing that made her wolf stir with anticipation she couldn't understand.

What the hell? I've never seen this man before in my life, so why does every instinct I possess scream that I should know him?

"Vivian," Logan's voice carried formal weight, "this is Alaric Silvercrest, Alpha of the Silvercrest pack. He returned four nights ago from captivity and had his leadership restored today."

The name hit her like ice water. Stories flooded back—whispered conversations among rebel fighters about the cruel Alpha who'd enforced the High Council's harshest orders, who'd sent operatives after hybrids and humans, and who'd ruled through fear and rigid traditionalism.

Two figures stepped from behind Alaric's imposing frame.

"Behind him are his son Kieran, who served as acting Alpha during his father's absence, and Kieran's mate Maya, who served as acting Luna.

Maya is also a hybrid and represents the first part of the Lunar Prophecy as we discussed earlier today. "

Vivian's hostility toward Alaric warred with genuine interest in meeting Maya. The copper-haired woman's intelligent green eyes held the calculated precision of someone who understood the weight of being a supernatural catalyst.

"It's an honor to meet you, Maya." Vivian's voice carried warmth that completely disappeared when her gaze returned to Alaric. "Though I question the necessity of this particular introduction."

The air between them crackled with tension so thick it could be cut with one of her handcrafted blades.

Every logical thought in Vivian's mind screamed warnings about the man before her—his reputation for brutality, his history of hybrid and human persecution, and his unwavering support of Council laws that had made her very existence illegal.

But her primal instincts told a different story entirely. They whispered of safety, of recognition, and of something fundamental that she couldn't name or understand.

Alaric's bright grey eyes studied her with an intensity that made her skin feel electrified. "Your reputation precedes you, Vivian Cole. Though I suspect the stories don't capture the full scope of your abilities."

"And your reputation certainly precedes you, Alpha Silvercrest." Her tone could have frozen the December air. "Though I'm hoping the stories about your treatment of hybrids and humans have been greatly exaggerated."

Kieran stepped forward slightly, his diplomatic instincts clearly engaged. "Perhaps we should?—"

"No." Alaric's voice cut through the suggestion with commanding authority. "If Vivian has concerns about my character or my intentions, she should voice them directly."

The challenge in his tone made Vivian's spine straighten with predatory grace. "My concerns are based on documented evidence of your enforcement of Council directives that resulted in hybrid and human persecution and death."

"Then you're operating on incomplete information." Alaric's defensive response carried an edge that suggested her accusations hit closer to truth than he preferred to acknowledge.

He's angry because I'm right, or he's angry because I'm wrong and he can't prove it. Either way, this conversation is heading nowhere productive.

The silence that followed his defensive response was thick with mutual distrust and something else—an undercurrent of awareness that neither seemed willing to acknowledge.

"You know what?" Alaric's voice dropped to a dangerous level. "If you're so convinced of my character, then let's settle this properly. With a challenge."

Vivian's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "You want to fight me?"

"If you win, I'll leave you alone. You won't have to speak with me ever again." His eyes held hers steadily. "But if I win, you'll give me the courtesy of an actual conversation before passing judgment on me."

The arrogance of the proposal should have insulted her. Instead, she found herself intrigued by his recognition that she was capable of presenting a genuine challenge to him. Most men either underestimated her completely or misunderstood her enough to avoid direct confrontation.

"You're serious." It wasn't a question.

"Completely," he replied firmly.

Vivian studied his face, searching for signs of condescension or dismissiveness. She found neither. Instead, she saw the calculating assessment of one warrior evaluating another as an equal opponent.

"Fine, I accept your challenge."

"Very good." Alaric's voice carried the unmistakable authority of an Alpha who'd never doubted his own power. "Follow me."

He turned toward the back door with fluid confidence, and Vivian found herself irritated by how naturally she fell into step behind him. The December air bit at her skin as they stepped outside, but she welcomed the sharp clarity it brought to her senses.

At least out here I'll have room to move. And if this arrogant bastard thinks he can intimidate me with his reputation and his Alpha posturing, he's about to learn otherwise.

Logan's ten-acre property stretched before them, the back section bordered by towering pines that cast long shadows in the dying light. The snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked toward a natural clearing perhaps fifty yards from the cabin.

"This should provide adequate space," Alaric announced, turning to face her with that same calculating assessment she'd noticed earlier.

Kieran stepped closer to Maya, his protective instincts clearly engaged despite his confusion. "Father, what exactly are you?—"

"Teaching her that assumptions based on incomplete information can be dangerous," Alaric replied without taking his eyes off Vivian.

Logan and Zoe positioned themselves at the edge of the clearing, their expressions a mixture of fascination and concern. Vivian could feel their collective uncertainty, but she pushed it aside. Whatever game Alaric thought he was playing, she intended to win it decisively.

"Wolf form?" she asked, beginning to remove her jacket.

"Unless you prefer to be at a disadvantage," he replied, already pulling his thermal henley over his head.

The arrogance of this man. Does he think I've survived thirty-five years by being delicate?

Vivian stripped efficiently, folding her clothes with practiced precision while Alaric did the same.

Even in the fading light, she couldn't ignore the powerful lines of his body—broad shoulders, defined chest, and the kind of muscular frame that spoke of decades of physical combat and Alpha dominance.

The shift came over her like liquid fire, her bones lengthening and reshaping with the familiar rush of transformation.

Her white fur caught the last rays of sunlight, the silver patterns across her belly seeming to shimmer with ethereal light.

Her wolf form was smaller than his would be, but she'd learned long ago that speed and agility could overcome raw power.

Alaric's transformation commanded attention in an entirely different way. His wolf was massive—easily the largest she'd ever seen—with black fur shot through with silver streaks. His bright grey eyes held the same intelligent calculation in wolf form that they'd shown as a human.

He's impressive. I'll give him that. But impressive doesn't mean unbeatable.

They circled each other slowly, each testing the other's movement patterns and looking for weaknesses. Vivian's enhanced senses cataloged everything—the way he favored his left side slightly, the controlled power in his gait, and the absolute confidence that radiated from every line of his body.

He lunged first, moving with surprising speed for something so large. Vivian twisted aside, her smaller frame allowing her to dodge his initial attack with room to spare. But instead of pressing his advantage, he pulled back immediately, reassessing.

Smart. He's not going to underestimate me twice.

The next exchange was more cautious—feints and testing strikes that neither committed fully to.

Vivian found herself grudgingly impressed by his tactical approach.

Most Alphas she'd encountered relied on brute force and intimidation.

Alaric fought like a strategist. Then she decided to show him exactly what he was dealing with.

Mid-dodge, she allowed her wolf form to blur and shift.

Her hind legs elongated and gained the explosive power of a panther, propelling her forward with speed that shouldn't have been possible.

Her eyes shifted to the golden, piercing vision of an owl, allowing her to track his movements with supernatural precision.

Her shoulders and back rippled as bear strength flooded through her muscles.

The collective gasp from their audience was audible even over the sounds of their conflict. Vivian caught Alaric's moment of shock—his wolf form actually stumbling slightly as he processed what he was seeing.

That's right. I'm not like anyone you've ever fought before.

She pressed her advantage, using her hybrid magical abilities to stay one step ahead of his reactions.

Her panther-enhanced legs carried her around his defenses while her owl vision tracked every micro-movement he made.

When he adapted to her speed, she shifted to bear strength to absorb and redirect his attacks.

But Alaric Silvercrest hadn't become the most feared Alpha in the territory by giving up when surprised. After those first few seconds of adjustment, he regained his composure with ruthless efficiency. His wolf form settled into perfect Alpha control—patient, calculating, and absolutely relentless.

He's not panicking. He's learning.

The realization sent a thrill through Vivian's entire system. It was an intense sensation of rare pleasure knowing she was finally facing an opponent who truly challenged her. Most fights ended within minutes once she revealed her hybrid abilities. This one was just getting more interesting.

They clashed again, and this time Alaric managed to anticipate her panther-speed dodge.

His massive frame collided with hers, sending them both rolling through the snow in a tangle of fur and flashing teeth.

Vivian twisted beneath him, using her bear strength to throw him off, but he recovered instantly.

Damn. He's good. Really good.

The dance continued, each gaining and losing ground in turn. Vivian's hybrid abilities gave her versatility, but Alaric's experience and raw Alpha power made him a formidable match. Neither could gain a decisive advantage.

Then it happened.

They lunged simultaneously, meeting in the center of the clearing with a force that should have sent them both sprawling. Instead, their bodies collided and held—Vivian's front paws pressed against Alaric's massive chest, his powerful frame braced against her smaller form.

For a heartbeat, they were perfectly balanced, perfectly matched, staring directly into each other's eyes. Then the world exploded.

Every cell in Vivian's body ignited with recognition so profound it felt like coming home and being struck by lightning simultaneously. The mate bond hit her with the force of a freight train—ancient, undeniable, and absolutely terrifying in its intensity.

No. No, this cannot be happening. Not with him.

Alaric's wolf form went rigid against hers, his grey eyes widening with the same shock that was currently short-circuiting her body. The scent of him—pine, lemon, and something indefinably masculine—flooded her senses and made her wolf purr with satisfaction.

They stood frozen, neither moving away from the contact that had triggered the bond. Vivian could feel Alaric's heart hammering against her paws where they pressed against his chest and could see the exact moment he understood what had just happened between them.

This arrogant, traditional, hybrid-hunting Alpha is my fated mate. The universe has a truly twisted sense of humor.