Page 56 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

"You should go," he says.

I don't move. "Marcus?—"

"Let it go, Adrian."

There's a finality to his tone. Something that tells me this conversation is over, whether I like it or not.

I study him for a moment longer. He looks... tired. The kind of tiredness that settles into your bones and never really leaves. I wonder if I will ever make it to old age like him. I wonder what the world would look like. I wonder...if Elara would be there. Or do we not make it out of this alive? That'd be poetic, I guess.

Marcus was once the sharpest mind I knew. A man who could outmaneuver anyone. And yet, here he is—checking his windows, watching his words, warning me off like I'm a reckless fool who doesn't understand the stakes.

It makes me wonder just how close he got to something dangerous.

And if I'm about to do the same.

I push to my feet.

He doesn't follow me to the door. He doesn't say anything else.

But just as I step outside, his voice cuts through the quiet.

"Be careful who you trust."

I don't look back.

But his words follow me all the way home, hot on my heels.

It is usually said that you become an adult when you see your parents scared andunderstandtheir fear. When you comprehend the gravity of a situation that makes your parents panic, then you've truly lost your innocence and transitioned into a form of adulthood, where shit like that happens all the time.

Case in point: my meeting with Marcus.

"Be careful who you trust."

That's the kind of advice you expect when you're dealing with politicians and power plays from ruthless mob bosses. But Marcus wasn't talking about routine deception. He was referring to something else—something that had left him watching his windows and choosing his words like every syllable could be his last.

I walk through the streets without really seeing them. The city moves around me in a blur of faces, cars, and neon signs bleeding color onto the pavement, but my mind is somewhere else.

The Council has been manipulating mate bonds.

Forcing loyalty. Enforcing control.

I shouldn't be surprised, but the ramifications of it sit heavy in my chest. Mate bonds are sacred. They are raw and untouchable things that should never be tampered with. And yet, our leaders have found a way to twist something primal, something written into our very bones, into a leash.

A way to keep people obedient.

The implications are staggering. How many alliances, how many pledges of loyalty, were never freely given? How many wolves have spent their lives bound to someone not by fate but by force? Imagine finding out that your life has been a waste because some idiots at the top thought it should go a different way from what nature has dictated.

I need proof.

By the time I reach my office, my pulse is steady, and my focus is honed. The possibility of the Council's atrocities is still a shock but I find a way to act like I haven't just been given earth-shattering news. I shove every thought of Elara and Cassian into a locked box in the back of my mind. I can't afford to let emotions cloud this. Not now.

The room is almost dark when I step inside. The city lights filter into the room and across the desk, glinting off the edge of my discarded whiskey glass from last night. I don't bother turning on the overhead light. Instead, I sink into my chair, fingers already moving over my keyboard, pulling up encrypted files.

Marcus said he had no proof.

That doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

I comb through records, communications, anything that might leave a trail. Most of it is routine—sanctioned bond registrations, pledges signed in ink. But then I find something else.

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