Page 115 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

A path.

A way forward.

I take one last look at him.

Then I turn.

Adrian and I run.

Straight into the Council's stronghold.

Straight toward the end.

CHAPTER 31

ADRIAN

The stronghold's inner chambers are a labyrinth of stone and shadow, the air thick with the stink of old blood and damp earth. The corridors are narrow, designed to bottleneck attackers—a death trap. But we expected that. Planned for it.

I lead the charge, wolves flanking me in tight formation. The sound of claws scraping against stone echoes through the tunnels as we move fast, cutting through the last remnants of resistance guarding the Council's sanctum.

We're close.

Then a roar shatters the air.

I barely have time to react before something massive barrels into me.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Claws rake across my chest, tearing deep, hot blood spilling instantly. My vision blurs for half a second, my body instinctively shifting—wolf and man at war for control.

The enforcer on top of me is a monster. Bigger than any wolf I've ever faced, his fur dark as the void, his fangs bared in something between a snarl and a grin.

He presses down. His weight is crushing, suffocating.

I see the killing blow coming?—

And then Elara is there.

She slams into him with enough force to send them both rolling. A snap of teeth, a blur of movement, and she's back on her feet, blocking his path to me.

I push off the ground, chest heaving, blood dripping from my wounds. My wolf rages inside me, the urge to rip, tear, destroy nearly blinding.

The enforcer—Tiberius. One of the Council's top executioners.

His yellow eyes flick between us, assessing. Calculating.

"Cute," he rumbles. "You think you can take me?"

Elara doesn't hesitate. She lunges.

And the fight truly begins.

Tiberius moves like a phantom. Despite his size, he's fast, his strikes vicious and precise. I barely dodge his next attack, feeling the rush of air as his claws swipe inches from my throat.

Elara circles him, her wolf low to the ground, muscles coiled tight. We don't need words—our bond is instinctive. I feint left; she attacks from the right.

We are relentless.

Tiberius doesn't break.

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