He and Quinton stared at each other across the empty space, the twin bond crackling with Conall’s guilt, his confusion, his desperate need to explain what couldn’t be explained.
How long?Quinton asked, his voice rough with emotions he couldn’t quite name.
How long what?
How long have you been lying to me?The question came loaded with days of growing suspicion and the fresh wound of witnessing that kiss.
Conall flinched.I haven’t been lying—
Bullshit.Quinton stalked toward his twin, his wolf’s agitation making it impossible to stand still.You’ve been different since that first encounter in the ravine.Distracted.Secretive.And I’ve been making excuses for you because I didn’t want to believe my own brother was choosing a stranger over family.
That’s not what’s happening.
Isn’t it?Quinton reached the bottom of the stairs, close enough now to see the defensive tension in his brother’s posture.
You don’t have to work so closely with her.There are other ways to investigate, other approaches that don’t require—Quinton gestured vaguely.Whatever’s happening between you two.
It’s just an assignment, Quin.
Is it?Quinton’s dark eyes searched his face.Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re choosing her over everything else.Over the pack.Over us.
That’s not true.
Isn’t it?When’s the last time we talked—really talked—without her shadow between us?Despite himself, Quinton’s anxiety tightened his voice.When’s the last time you came to me first with a problem instead of looking to her for answers?
Jeez, Quin, it’s only been a week.
A week that’s changed everything.
Conall’s jaw tightened.Nadine isn’t the enemy.I know you want her to be, but—
I want her to be?Quinton’s laugh was jagged.I want my brother back.The one who used to trust me enough to share what was really going on in his head.
You want me to ignore my mate bond.
The words hung between them like a blade, finally giving shape to the thing they’d been dancing around for days.The biological imperative that was reshaping Conall’s priorities, pulling him toward choices that defied logic and loyalty alike.
I want you to remember who you were before she showed up,Quinton said quietly.I want you to remember that we’ve never needed anyone else.
Something flickered across Conall’s face—regret, maybe, or recognition of the truth Quinton was voicing.They had always been enough for each other.Complete.Whole.
Until now.
This isn’t about need,Conall said, but his voice lacked conviction.
Then what is it about?Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re willing to throw away everything we’ve built for a woman who’s been hunting us for murder.
She was manipulated.Her father’s death, her investigation—it was all orchestrated to point her toward us.
Maybe.Or maybe that’s just what she wants you to believe.Quinton stepped closer, desperate to break through whatever spell Nadine had woven around his brother.Think about it.She shows up with accusations, then conveniently gets captured alongside you.She saves your life, shares just enough intelligence to seem trustworthy, plays the wounded victim perfectly.And now you’re so convinced of her innocence that you’re kissing her in archive rooms.
Conall’s expression hardened.You think she’s playing me.
I think mate bonds can be faked.Or at least simulated well enough to fool someone who wants to believe.
Conall’s shock, followed almost immediately by his rejection of the possibility, slammed through their bond.
Quinton tried again.Fuck, Con, isn’t that exactly what you’re researching right now?Chimera has access to neural interface technology, behavioral modification protocols.What if she’s an asset?What if everything you’re feeling is artificial?
