Page 38 of Rebel for Claws
"And what exactly are you proposing we do about it?" This from Alpha Garrett of Granite Ridge—Thorne's own pack. His tone was carefully neutral, but Vivian detected underlying tension.
"I'm proposing we remove Thorne from power permanently," Alaric stated without hesitation. "The rebellion has evidence of his crimes spanning three centuries. It's time to act."
A chorus of agreement echoed through the speaker, but then Alpha Brock's voice cut through with a question that made Vivian's blood run cold.
"Speaking of the rebellion, Silvercrest, what is your relationship with that hybrid who crashed our meeting? You seemed awfully... protective of her for someone with your traditional reputation."
Vivian felt her mate's tension spike through their bond, his jaw clenching as possessive fury flashed across his features. She watched his hands slowly curl into fists, the careful control he maintained threatening to snap.
"My actions were purely strategic," Alaric replied, his voice dangerously quiet. "She possesses vital intelligence about Thorne's operations."
"Strategic?" Alpha Gage's laughter held no humor. "Alaric, I've known you for thirty years. The way you moved to shield her wasn't strategy—that was pure Alpha instinct."
Shit.Vivian's heart began to race as she realized how close they were to exposure. Several more voices joined in, pressing for details about Alaric's sudden shift from rigid traditionalist to apparent hybrid sympathizer.
"This is highly irregular, Silvercrest," Beta Kane from Granite Ridge commented. "Your public support of the rebellion, your protection of that hybrid female... it raises questions about your true loyalties."
Alaric's control was visibly fraying, his grey eyes shifting toward dangerous gold. Vivian could practically feel the predatory energy rolling off him in waves as the pack leaders continued questioning his motivations.
"My loyalties," he growled, "are to the future of our people. If that means working with hybrids and the rebellion to remove a corrupt tyrant?—"
"But why this particular hybrid?" Alpha Brock pressed. "She's dangerous, Alaric. What makes you think she can be trusted?"
The possessive snarl that rumbled from Alaric's chest made Vivian's pulse spike with primal awareness. She could see him struggling against the instinct to defend his mate and to claim her publicly regardless of consequences.
Without conscious thought, she rose from her chair and moved to his side, placing her hand gently on his forearm. The contact immediately seemed to ground him, his breathing steadying as their mate bond hummed with soothing energy.
His eyes met hers with gratitude and something deeper—love, she realized with a jolt of surprise. Not just desire or territorial claiming, but genuine emotion that made her chest tight with answering feeling.
"Gentlemen," Alaric said, his voice regaining its commanding steadiness, "personal motivations aside, we have a war to plan. Are you prepared to stand with me against the High Council, or are we going to waste time with irrelevant speculation?"
The authority in his tone brooked no further argument. One by one, the Alphas pledged their support for removing Thornefrom power, agreeing to coordinate their efforts under Alaric's leadership.
"Excellent," Alaric concluded. "I'll be in touch with specific operational details soon. Until then, maintain your current security protocols and trust no one outside your immediate circles."
He ended the call and immediately pulled Vivian into his arms, his face buried in her neck as he breathed in her scent.
"That was close," she murmured, her hands stroking through his hair.
"Too close," he agreed against her skin. "But we bought ourselves time."
She pulled back to meet his gaze, seeing both relief and determination burning in those storm-grey depths.
"You did brilliantly," she said, meaning every word. "Keeping your composure like that and convincing them to follow your lead—you're going to make a very powerful leader when this is all over."
His hands cupped her face. "We're going to make powerful leaders. Together."
The promise in his voice sent shivers through her. They were one step closer to victory. One step closer to the future they'd envisioned together.
SIXTEEN
ALARIC
The weight of Vivian's body against Alaric's chest should have been comforting, but Alaric could feel the tension radiating from her even as she melted into his embrace. The sweet scent of her skin—vanilla and wildflowers—filled his senses, but underneath it he detected something else. Worry and fear.
He watched her gaze drop suddenly and her shoulders sag slightly, and his chest tightened with protective instinct. Their mate bond pulsed with her distress, and every Alpha instinct in his body screamed at him to fix whatever was causing her pain.
"What's wrong?" The question came out rough, edged with the worry he couldn't quite suppress when his mate was troubled.
