The pieces suddenly clicked together in his mind—the sophisticated operation, the detailed knowledge, the perfect timing of their capture.
We’re missing a piece of this puzzle.Conall spoke aloud, working through the possibilities as his mind raced through the connections between their captivity and the facility raid.Someone who might have answers.
The rest of the council members stared at him.
Where is the woman who was pretending to be Nadine?Conall asked.
CHAPTER 11
THE SILENCE IN THEmeeting room stretched too long, and Conall’s instincts screamed that something was wrong.
We should question her again,he said,now that we know about these operatives.
The look that passed between Malcolm and Larissa twisted into his gut.
She escaped,Larissa said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of bad news delivered with professional calm.Sometime after midnight.Guards found her cell empty during the three-a.m.security check.
Escaped how?Conall’s voice sharpened.A secured holding cell didn’t just accidentally release its occupant.
Lock picked from the inside,Anders replied, his expression grim.Professional work.Either she had tools we missed during intake, or—
Or someone helped her,Malcolm finished.
Conall’s stomach dropped.The woman who’d impersonated Nadine—who’d accused him and Quinton of murder with such convincing detail—had vanished into the night.The pack might indeed have a traitor in their ranks.
Beside him, Conall felt Nadine’s reaction through the mate bond—a hot spike of vindication mixed with fear.
Her suspicions about pack infiltration had just gained credibility in the worst possible way.
When did you discover Conall was missing?she asked, her voice almost toneless despite the tension radiating from her.
Quinton stepped forward, and his twin’s managed facade cracked.When he didn’t return from patrol.When his radio went silent and his scent trail led to that ravine where you ambushed him.
The accusation in Quinton’s voice cut deeper than it should have.
Through their twin connection, Conall felt the anxiety and worry beneath the anger—the terror that had consumed his brother when he’d realized Conall was gone.
We thought she’d taken you,Quinton continued, his dark eyes boring into Nadine with barely contained hostility.Thought maybe she’d killed you, left your body somewhere in the desert for the scavengers.
Guilt shuddered through Conall’s chest like a physical pain.
In following the mate bond, in pursuing his desperate need to find Nadine, he’d put his twin through hell.Had made Quinton fear the worst while he was unconscious in that concrete cell—until the drug had finally worn off entirely.
Quin—he started.
No.His twin’s voice cracked with emotion he rarely showed.Do you have any idea what it was like?Feeling our connection just stop?Not knowing if you were alive or dead?
The raw pain in Quinton’s voice made Conall’s inner wolf whine with distress.
They’d never been separated like that before, never had their connection severed so abruptly.What Conall had experienced as drug-induced unconsciousness, Quinton had felt as devastating silence.
I’m sorry,Conall said quietly, meaning it more than any apology he’d ever given.I never meant to worry you.Any of you.
But even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren’t entirely true.Because given the choice again—faced with the mate bond’s insistent pull toward Nadine—he would have made the same decision.
The realization terrified him almost as much as it had clearly terrified his twin.
Would you have done anything differently?Quinton asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet that preceded either violence or devastation.If you’d known what it would cost?
