Page 29 of Rebel for Claws
"Radio check," Logan's voice came through their earpieces as they approached the forest road leading to Moon Hollow.
"Alpha team clear," Kieran responded.
"Perimeter team preparing to get to position," Damon's voice followed.
"Extraction team ready to position as well," Elena confirmed.
Everyone's ready except me. Everyone's prepared except the one person who has to sit in that meeting and pretend everything's normal while his mate walks into the line of fire.
As they wound through the ancient forest roads, Alaric watched Vivian's profile in his peripheral vision. Her violet eyes were calm and focused, showing none of the nervousness he felt through their bond.
"Five minutes out," Kieran announced.
Alaric turned to face Vivian fully. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Promise me that when this whole nightmare is over, we'll finish what we started."
Her violet eyes softened, and for a moment, the warrior mask slipped away. "I promise. When Thorne is defeated and our people are free, we'll claim each other properly."
When, not if. She believes we'll succeed.
The SUV slowed as they approached a hidden entrance to Moon Hollow. Ancient trees created a natural cathedral around them, their bare branches forming intricate patterns against thewinter sky. Sacred ground stretched ahead—neutral territory where universal pack law demanded peace.
Too bad Thorne has never respected universal pack law.
"This is where we separate," Alaric said, his Alpha authority masking the emotional turmoil beneath. "Kieran, Malcolm—you know your positions. Vivian..."
She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you on the other side."
God, I hope so.
As they stepped out of the SUVs, Alaric straightened his formal jacket and assumed the role he'd perfected over thirty years—the traditional Alpha attending a High Council quarterly meeting. But inside, his wolf snarled with the need to protect his mate and to stand beside her in the coming mission.
As Alaric took his seat beside the other three Alphas in the open-air pavilion that crisp December morning, seven pairs of ancient eyes bore into him from their elevated semicircular table. The weight of their collective gaze felt like physical pressure against his shoulders, but it was Thorne's piercing stare that made his wolf growl beneath his carefully controlled exterior.
The bastard is displeased that I escaped his little medical facility. Good.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of ancient trees surrounding Moon Hollow's sacred meeting ground, dappling the stone floor with shifting patterns that seemed to mirror the restless energy thrumming through every wolf shifter gathered there. Elder Callum, representing Silvercrest pack as head elder, sat with perfect posture despite his advanced age. Elder Isolde from Shadow pack, her silver-streaked hair cascading over narrow shoulders, maintained her typical serene expression. Elder Merrick of Tidewater pack drummed his fingers againstthe stone table—a nervous habit Alaric had noted over decades of these quarterly meetings.
But it was Thorne who commanded the space with his imposing presence and those ice-blue eyes that missed nothing. The bastard looked exactly as he had a week ago just before Alaric attacked him in that sterile room he'd been held captive in—powerful, controlled, and utterly convinced of his own superiority.
You have no idea what's coming for you.
"Before we begin," Elder Callum's voice carried easily across the pavilion, "we acknowledge the return of Alpha Alaric Silvercrest from his... unfortunate absence."
Alaric inclined his head with just enough deference to maintain his cover. "Grateful to be back among my fellow leaders."
Thorne's lips curved into what might have been mistaken for a smile by anyone who didn't know the depths of his corruption. "Indeed. Such a mysterious disappearance. I trust you've recovered from whatever... ailment... kept you away."
Ailment. As if five months of captivity and experimentation were some minor inconvenience.
"Completely recovered," Alaric replied evenly, letting none of his rage leak into his voice. "Ready to resume my duties to the pack and the Council."
The formal proceedings began with Elder Callum reading minutes from the previous quarterly meeting—the one Alaric had missed due to his captivity. Each word sent fresh waves of anger through him as he was forced to sit there, watching Thorne carry on as if he hadn't orchestrated the entire kidnapping.
Thirty minutes until Vivian infiltrates. Twenty-nine minutes, fifty-eight seconds.
