Page 28 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

His warmth surrounds me, his heartbeat a steady thrum against my skin, and for a moment, just a moment, I let myselffeel it. The way wefit, the way our bodies are still tangled, the way my name justleft his lipslike a prayer.

Like Imatter.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

CHAPTER 10

ADRIAN

The council chamber feels colder than usual, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and old leather. Shadows stretch across the long table, where the Council members sit, their gazes heavy, unreadable.

Ishouldbe focused.

But my mind keeps drifting.

Toher.

To the way my name had slipped from her lips, breathless and raw, the way her body had curled against mine, heat and softness wrapped around me. Two days, and I still feel her under my skin.

Two days, and I still hear her sharp inhale when I pulled away, when I forced myself toleave.

Because Ihadto.

Because the moment the pleasure faded, the weight of what we'd done settled between us—too heavy, too complicated. Because she is Elara Thorne, and I am bound to the Council.

"Adrian." Councilor Monroe's voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and expectant. "You're late."

Her gaze is piercing, unreadable, but there's an edge to it—one that makes it clear she's not just irritated by my tardiness. Monroe has always been the strategist, the one who calculates every move, every alliance. She doesn't just seek compliance; she demands foresight and control.

I inhale, steadying myself. "I came as quickly as I could."

I take my seat, my movements measured, though I can feel the bond stillpulling, stillsettlinginside me, refusing to be ignored. It's not complete, but it's there, woven into my bones,demanding recognition.

Monroe doesn't waste time. "Elara Thorne's project?"

I keep my tone flat. "Progressing as expected. Permits are secured, partnerships are forming, and she's refining her architectural plans."

A murmur ripples through the chamber.

Monroe leans forward slightly, tapping manicured nails against the table's polished surface. "And what of her...alliances?"

My jaw tightens. "Cassian Veyne remains a presence," I admit. "He's been pushing her to align the project with his rebellion, but so far, she hasn't made any overt moves."

Her lips press into a thin line, her gaze sharp enough tocut through steel.

"So far," she echoes, her tone carrying a weight that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise.

Because Monroe doesn't deal inmaybes. She deals incertainties. And she wants one from me.

Councilor Daven clears his throat, his deep voice rumbling through the chamber. "This isn't just about Cassian," he says, leaning back in his chair, watching me like a man who already knows the truth but wants to hear mesayit.

"This project itself is a threat."

Daven has never been subtle. He is a force, blunt and immovable, more focused on keeping order than playing political games. Unlike Monroe, he doesn'tquestionif something will be a problem—he assumes it alreadyis.

I hold his gaze, forcing my voice to stay even. "It's a sustainable city hub," I say. "An architectural initiative focused on coexistence and development. That'sallit is."

Another lie.

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