Page 122 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

She laughs, her fingers brushing against mine on the table. "I mean, we spend most of our time together anyway. The war is over. The sooner we start living our lives to the fullest, the better."

"I like that," I say, squeezing her hand. "We'd have to find somewhere with a good location, though. You're at the university, I'm dealing with the council..."

"And somewhere quiet," she adds. "Not too far from the city but not right in the middle of all the noise."

"You mean somewhere where nosy werewolves won't be eavesdropping on our personal life?"

"Exactly." She takes a sip of her tea, her expression turning thoughtful. "Speaking of eavesdropping, today's meeting was about privacy policies for research participants. You'd think it would be a straightforward discussion, but no, half of them argued about it for an hour."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Sounds familiar. I spent all morning convincing the council to agree on new leadership policies. We're restructuring the entire hierarchy, making sure no single pack has too much power over another. And of course, there were arguments. Endless arguments."

Elara sighs, setting her cup down. "We're really bad at avoiding work talk, aren't we?"

"The worst," I admit. "But it's hard when this is our reality. You're shaping minds at the university, I'm trying to make sure the werewolf community doesn't crumble into chaos. It's not like we have normal nine-to-five jobs."

She reaches across the table, lacing her fingers with mine. "That's why I think moving in together immediately would be good for us."

I turn her hand over in mine, tracing small circles on her palm. "You're right. We deserve that."

She smiles softly. "So, what kind of place are we looking for? Apartment? House? Something with a big kitchen so you can cook for me?"

"So I can cook for you? What about you cooking for me?"

Elara gives me a dramatic sigh. "I can cook. I just prefer to be spoiled."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Fine. Big kitchen. A balcony, like we talked about. And a bedroom with windows big enough to let in natural light."

"And space for a home office—for both of us. Because let's be real, we're never truly going to leave work behind."

I sigh. "You're not wrong."

Our food arrives, and we finally let the conversation drift to other things—old memories, upcoming events, whether or not I can finally convince her to watch The Godfather with me. But beneath it all, the thought lingers.

A home. Ours. A space where we aren't just the Alpha and the professor, aren't constantly wrapped up in responsibilities.

Just Adrian and Elara.

And hopefully, one day, little cubs running around too.

Back at work, something unexpected happens. I spot Isla standing near the edge of the courtyard, arms wrapped around herself as she stares at the man before her. Her mate.

The one the Council tore from her.

He takes a cautious step forward, his expression raw with longing and uncertainty. Isla's breath hitches, her fingers clenching into fists as if bracing for impact. Grief flickers across her face, but beneath it—something else. Something I can feel like a pulse in the air.

The bond isn't dead.

It's faint, fragile, but it's there.

The Council severed countless mates, breaking wolves apart as a means of control. We thought those bonds were lost forever. But if Isla and her mate can feel even the slightest pull toward each other, it means the damage isn't permanent.

It means the Council's worst atrocities might still be undone.

He whispers her name. Isla flinches, tears welling in her eyes, but she doesn't turn away.

She feels it, too.

A spark reigniting in the ashes.

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