Page 30 of Rebel for Claws
He found himself counting down like a man waiting for salvation, which wasn't far from the truth. Through the mate bond, he could sense Vivian's determination and barely controlled anticipation as she waited with Kieran, Malcolm, Logan, and Damon at the perimeter.
"The matter of hybrid integration continues to cause... discord," Elder Merrick said, his weathered face creased with concern. "Several pack territories have reported increased human operative activity."
Human operatives you're employing, you corrupt bastards.
"Indeed troubling," Thorne interjected smoothly. "Which is why the Council's position remains firm. The Severance laws exist to protect our shifter kind from contamination and exposure."
Fifteen minutes.
Alpha Garrett of the Granite Ridge pack shifted uncomfortably beside Alaric. "With respect, Elder Thorne, some of us question whether these laws still serve their intended purpose."
Thorne's eyes flashed dangerously. "Are you suggesting the Council's wisdom is... flawed, Alpha Garrett?"
Ten minutes.
The tension in the pavilion ratcheted higher as other pack leaders began voicing concerns about the Council's increasingly extreme methods. Alaric told himself to remain silent, playing the role of the traditional Alpha who deferred to Council authority.
Five minutes.
His enhanced hearing caught the almost inaudible sound of movement in the forest beyond the pavilion—Kieran and the others getting into position. Through his and Vivian's mate bond, he felt her pulse quicken as she prepared for her dramatic entrance.
Three minutes.
"Furthermore," Thorne continued, his voice taking on that commanding tone that had intimidated shifters for centuries, "reports suggest that descendants of extinct bloodlines may still?—"
The massive wooden doors at the pavilion's rear entrance exploded inward with a sound like thunder.
Vivian strode through in all her dangerous glory, the black tactical gear molded to her athletic frame like a second skin. Twin handcrafted swords crossed her back in perfect symmetry. Throwing knives glinted from her hip holsters, and she moved with that predatory grace that marked her as something far more deadly than any ordinary shifter.
My God, she's magnificent. And walking straight into the lion's den.
Every eye in the pavilion fixed on her as she advanced with purposeful strides, her violet eyes blazing with righteous fury. The assembled Alphas and pack leaders leaped to their feet, confusion and alarm rippling through the crowd.
"If you want me dead, Thorne," Vivian's voice rang out clear and fearless across the sacred ground, "instead of sending your Council operatives to hunt me like a coward, here I am. Come and get me."
My brave, reckless, perfect mate.
But she wasn't finished. As Thorne rose slowly from his seat, his face twisted in cold fury, Vivian pulled forth the ancient scrolls and leather-bound journals from her tactical pack.
"While you're deciding whether to face me yourself," she continued, her voice carrying to every corner of the pavilion, "perhaps everyone here would be interested in knowing exactly who you really are."
Here we go.
"You personally orchestrated the Severance three centuries ago," Vivian declared, holding the ancient texts high. "You're the one who deliberately separated the Silvercrest bloodline from human magical lineages to prevent a prophecy that threatened your power."
Gasps and murmurs erupted from the assembled shifters. Several elders looked genuinely shocked, while others exchanged worried glances.
"On top of that, you've been conducting experiments on shifters, hybrids, and humans in medical facilities across Granite Ridge territory," she pressed on relentlessly. "Alpha Alaric can testify to that since you held him captive for five months, experimenting on him while gloating about every terrible thing you've done."
Every word was truth. Every accusation hitting its mark.
"And while you publicly claim to protect our shifter kind from human contamination," Vivian's voice rose to fill the entire pavilion, "you've been employing human operatives for three centuries to do your cruel bidding. To hunt down hybrids. To eliminate anyone who threatens your stranglehold on power."
The pavilion erupted into chaos. Pack leaders shouted questions and demands for answers. Several elders looked genuinely stunned by the revelations, while others appeared more concerned about damage control.
Thorne's face had gone completely white except for two spots of burning color on his cheeks. When he spoke, his voice carried the deadly promise of violence.
"Enough."
