Page 67 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

A woman steps up next to David—tall, with streaks of gray in her auburn hair. "I was engaged to a werewolf once," she says, her voice clear, unashamed. "Years ago. He wasn't a danger to me, but the second people found out, my life became hell. I lost my job. My family cut me off. He—" she swallows, steeling herself. "He disappeared. The Council took him. Or maybe the government did. Either way, I never saw him again."

Silence stretches.

Then a werewolf, a broad-shouldered man with golden eyes, speaks. "That's what they do," he says. "They keep us in check by making us the villains in your stories. You think we haven't lost people, too? Your government calls us beasts, tells you we're dangerous. The Council calls us criminals when we don't obey them. They don't want us working together, because if we did, we wouldn't need them anymore."

The words hit hard.

Someone else from the werewolf side speaks, a younger woman with sharp features. "We know some of you have reasons not to trust us. But it's not us who made this war between our species. It's the people in power. We protect our own, just like you protect yours. But what if 'our own' could include both?"

The discussion builds from there. It's raw, filled with personal experiences, some spoken with anger, others with quiet exhaustion. The government and the Council are two sides of the same coin—both keeping their people under control through division and fear.

I listen closely.

They're not wrong.

For all the times I've questioned the way the world works, hearing it put so plainly makes the injustice clearer than ever. The governments keep humans in the dark, telling them werewolves are monsters. The Council keeps werewolves obedient, making sure they never think about breaking the system.

But that system is already breaking.

Then, Cassian speaks.

"This is all good talk," he says smoothly, leaning back in his chair like he's unimpressed. "But let's not pretend everyone in this room sees the world the same way. Some of us still believe in strength. That no matter what talks happen, the ones in power will always be the ones willing to take it."

The shift in the air is instant.

Cassian doesn't look at Elara. He looks at me.

His meaning is clear.

I don't react. I won't give him the satisfaction. But I see the flicker of amusement in his eyes, like he's testing me, waiting to see if I'll snap.

"I notice you're being real careful in this discussion, Adrian," he says, his voice light but edged. "Don't you have any opinions? Or do you just stand behind Elara and let her do all the work?"

My jaw tightens.

Elara shoots him a sharp look, but I don't need her to speak for me.

"I don't waste words," I say, keeping my voice even. "Unlike you."

Cassian smirks. "Is that it? Or are you afraid of making the wrong move?" He leans forward. "See, I think you hesitate too much. I think that's why you'll never really lead. You're too afraid of what might happen if you make the wrong choice."

The room is still.

I should let it go. But something in me refuses to back down.

"You mistake caution for weakness," I say. "That's your flaw. You think leading is about making the loudest threats. But real power isn't about being reckless." My voice lowers. "It's about knowing when to strike."

Cassian holds my gaze.

Then he laughs, leaning back like he's satisfied.

I don't know what game he's playing, but I know this much—he's pushing me, testing where I stand with Elara, with this movement, with her.

And I hate that it's working.

The meeting continues, shifting focus back to the alliance, the next steps, the risks. But the weight of that exchange lingers.

And so does something else.

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