Page 21 of Rebel for Claws
The genuine remorse in her voice caused his chest to tighten with an emotion he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.She sees me. Not the mask I've worn, but who I really am underneath.
"You don't have to apologize," Alaric replied, his voice rougher than intended. "I probably would've acted the same way in your position." He paused and leaned forward, locking eyes with her. "Let's start over fresh—no more assumptions about each other. Let's just get to know each other openly and honestly from this point forward."
"I would like that," Vivian said, and the warmth in her tone made his wolf hum with satisfaction.
The mate bond pulsed stronger between them in the intimate space, and Alaric found himself studying the curve of her lips again as she spoke. The domestic setting—sharing dinner andtalking by firelight—felt simultaneously foreign and absolutely right in ways that both thrilled and terrified him.
"Actually, I have an idea," Vivian continued, leaning forward with sudden intensity. "When I reviewed those ancient texts I stole from Moon Hollow very briefly before Damon and Elena kidnapped me four nights ago, something struck me." Her violet eyes gleamed with intellectual excitement. "Could I review your Silvercrest lineage texts? Your ancestors' bloodline records?"
Alaric's eyebrows rose in surprise. "What are you thinking?"
"A theory that's been forming as we talked about why those scientists were experimenting on you during your captivity—testing your Alpha capabilities and blood." Vivian's voice carried the sharp edge of strategic thinking. "It seemed like they were searching for something specific."
Searching for something.The phrase resonated with uncomfortable accuracy. Alaric nodded slowly, remembering the countless blood draws and genetic tests. "That's exactly what I thought they were doing. Like they were looking for dormant magical abilities or specific genetic markers that suggested my bloodline possessed them."
"But you don't know of any magical abilities in your bloodline?" Vivian pressed, her analytical mind clearly working through possibilities.
"Not that I'm aware of," Alaric admitted, though something nagged at the edge of his memory—old stories his father had mentioned briefly before his death and some texts Alaric had read not too long ago, fragments of Silvercrest history that had never seemed relevant until now. "But maybe way back there's something I was never told about. Something my ancestors possessed or hid from the High Council."
The implications hit him with physical force.What if Thorne's interest in me goes beyond political manipulation?What if there's something in my bloodline he's been trying to access or control this whole time?
"Maybe that's why Thorne was pressing you so hard for answers during your captivity," Vivian said, voicing his own thoughts. "Like the scientists uncovered something significant but didn't share their findings with you."
Alaric felt his wolf stir with predatory interest as pieces of a larger puzzle began falling into place. The experiments, the psychological manipulation spanning thirty years, and Thorne's obsession with eliminating ancient bloodlines—what if it wasn't just about maintaining power, but about acquiring something specific for some bigger purpose?
"You think there might be a bigger connection between my bloodline and yours?" he asked, his Alpha instincts sharpening as the strategic implications became clear.
"It's possible," Vivian replied, her eyes glowing with that golden light. "If Thorne has been systematically hunting hybrids and shifters with ancient bloodlines, maybe he's been trying to piece together something larger. Something that requires multiple bloodlines to achieve."
The thought sent cold dread through Alaric's veins.Maybe a supershifter army containing powerful soldiers that harness ancient magic for Thorne's own nefarious purposes.
"I'll bring you to my private office tomorrow morning after I gather the records," Alaric said. "You can begin researching the Silvercrest bloodline history to uncover any connections between ancient shapeshifting powers and your magical lineage."
"Thank you," Vivian said, genuine gratitude warming her voice. "If there is something important there, something Thorne was trying to figure out or manipulate..."
"Then we'll use it against him," Alaric finished, his eyes meeting hers with shared determination. The mate bondhummed strongly between them, and he realized that beyond the physical attraction and primal recognition, they were perfectly matched intellectually—two strategic minds working toward the same goal.
Perhaps finding my fated mate isn't a complication after all. Perhaps it's exactly what we both need to finally bring Thorne down and restore harmony to our shifter world.
NINE
VIVIAN
The air crackled with electricity and unspoken truths, and Vivian found herself studying the way the firelight played across Alaric's strong features.How did I go from wanting to fight this man to wanting to... well, definitely not fight him?
"I should probably let you get some rest," Alaric said, starting to rise from his chair with that controlled grace that made her pulse quicken. "Tomorrow will be?—"
"Wait." The word escaped before she could stop it, surprising them both. Vivian felt heat creep up her neck at her own boldness. "Could you stay a little while longer? We don't have to talk about anything serious. I'm just..."Completely fascinated by you and terrified of being alone with these feelings."What do you like to do for fun?"
Alaric froze halfway to standing, his light grey eyes widening with what looked suspiciously like panic. A flush crept across his sharp cheekbones, and he actually stammered. "I... fun? You want to know about..." He cleared his throat, running a hand through his short dark hair. "That's not really... I mean, I don't usually..."
Oh my God, he's blushing.Vivian couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. Here was this powerful, commanding Alpha who could probably reduce grown men to trembling with a single look, and she'd managed to turn him into a flustered teenager with a simple question about hobbies.
"Are you afraid of small talk?" she teased, settling back in her chair with newfound confidence. "Or is it always just business with you?"
"No, I'm not afraid," Alaric replied quickly, then seemed to catch himself. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and that devastating smile she was beginning to recognize ghosted across his features. "I just haven't had many... intimate, laid-back conversations in my life. I'm not really sure what to say or how to act."
The admission was so unexpectedly vulnerable that Vivian felt something shift in her chest.This man has spent thirty years wearing a mask, performing for everyone around him. When was the last time he just... talked to someone? Really talked?
