He groped in his mind for the mate bond.
Silent.
Where is she?he demanded, struggling to his feet.
Gone.Concern threaded through Dr.Chen’s voice.She said she was keeping her promise—not running from what you are but protecting it.
Conall reached for the mate bond again and found only static.
Somehow, she’d severed their connection.
The evidence?he asked, noting the missing files.
She took it.Everything pertaining to Gregory’s operations.Chen began packing his equipment.But what she found about the pack traitor—
Is wrong.The denial came automatically, even as doubt gnawed at him.Quinton would never betray the pack.
Chen’s silence was damning.
The drive back to Sunburst territory passed in growing certainty that everything was crumbling.Nadine’s evidence was thorough, professional, devastating.Financial records, communication logs, intelligence reports tracking perfectly with Quinton’s duty shifts.
She was right.On some level, he’d known it even as he’d denied it.
At the compound, he found Quinton at the communications station, managing information flow between allied packs.To any observer, Quinton looked dedicated—focused, efficient, committed to pack security.
But now Conall saw the performance.The careful questions eliciting sensitive information.The slight delays in relaying communications.The way his eyes tracked certain data with more than professional interest.
Con,Quinton said without looking up.Thank God you’re back.Moonstone Pack is under assault, Ruby Range has gone dark, coordinated strikes against six territories.
Quinton already knew all this.Had probably known it was coming.
Where’s Nadine?The casual disdain in his voice, the way he said her name like it tasted bitter—all of it took on new meaning.
She’s gone.Left to handle family business.
Relief flickered across Quinton’s face, quickly suppressed.Probably for the best.We need to focus on pack security, not chase unstable assets with daddy issues.
The words were calculated to wound, to dismiss Nadine as irrelevant.But they revealed Quinton’s eagerness to see her gone.
We found evidence of Gregory’s deception,Conall said, watching carefully.Financial records, communication logs.
Quinton’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second—barely perceptible, but Conall was hypersensitive to his twin’s tells.
What kind of evidence?
The kind proving he’s been working with someone inside the pack.Someone with access to our protocols, codes, schedules.Conall moved closer.Someone who’s been selling us out.
That’s impossible.Everyone here is loyal—
But his body language told a different story.Rigid shoulders, elevated breathing, the scent shift indicating stress.All markers Conall had learned to read.
Is it impossible?Or just inconvenient?
Quinton spun in his chair, eyes wide with something that looked almost like panic.What are you suggesting?
I’m stating facts.Conall pulled up the evidence files, his hands shaking slightly.Bank records showing payments to shell companies.Communication logs between Gregory and someone using ‘Twin Star.’Intelligence reports tracking with your duty assignments.
The silence stretched, and through their weakened twin bond, Conall felt his brother’s shock—the shock of exposure.
