บททั้งหมดของ The Fated Mate Rebellion: บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

POV: RyderThe engine sound changed.Not one vehicle now. Two. Then the third, all three starting within seconds of each other, coordinated people who had been waiting for a signal and had received it simultaneously.Ryder looked at Mira. "Which three?"Mira was already on her device. "Eastern side. Positions four, five, and six."He looked through the window. The three eastern vehicles had not moved yet. They were warming up, which meant the people inside them were preparing rather than reacting, which meant they had a plan they were now executing rather than improvising on the spot.Planning was worse than improvisation."How many people per vehicle?" he said."Standard Council security configuration is four per vehicle," Mira said. "Driver plus three."Twelve people. Against the four Avery operatives still functional after Cael's people had taken out ten of the perimeter team. Against Ryder and Jaxon, one of whom had a broken shoulder. Against Mira's own security detail, which was

POV: Sierra"Tell me," Sierra said.Mira put her device on the table between them. On the screen was a location marker, a single point in the Nevada desert with no road visible near it, no building, nothing that suggested human presence."It belongs to my family," Mira said. "Not the Council. Not any faction record. My grandmother built it forty years ago, off every map that existed then, and I have kept it that way since she passed it to me." She looked at Sierra. "Three rooms underground. Solar power. Water supply. Enough food stored for two weeks. It has never been registered, never been documented, never been connected to my name in any record that Knox or anyone working with him could have found. " She paused. "I have never brought anyone there. Not once in twenty years.""Why are you offering it now?" Ryder said from the front section.Mira looked at Kenzie, who had her head resting against Sierra's arm and her eyes half-closed, the door moving again behind whatever she was usin

POV: SierraFour people had been in the vehicle when Mira named the seventeen Council members connected to Knox.Mira herself. Dara. Cael. And the security officer watching Cael, whose name was Soren.Sierra sat beside Kenzie's sleeping form and worked through it quietly, the way she had worked through problems in Knox's building for three years, without showing anything on her face while her mind moved.Mira had been communicating with the full council throughout the night. She had access to information and the means to transmit it. She also had the most to lose from Knox's network surviving, which created a reason to act against it rather than for it. But the Council had failed the Royal bloodline for fifteen years through inaction, and someone could frame that as something other than failure.Dara was Avery's operative. She had been inside the Nevada facility for three hours before they arrived. She had managed the vehicle and the escape route with competence that suggested genuine

POV: RyderThe rotor sound reached them as vibration first, then noise, the specific sequence of something heavy moving through air close to the ground.Ryder looked at the ceiling.Twenty meters of desert and rock between them and whatever was above. Enough to muffle sound significantly. Which meant what they were hearing was not distant."How many?" Jaxon said."One," Ryder said. He had spent enough time in operations that used air support to read rotor sounds by their overlap patterns. One set of blades. One aircraft."Reconnaissance or transport?" Mira said."Transport," Ryder said. "Reconnaissance does not need to be this low."One aircraft. Transport configuration. Which meant people, not just observation. Which meant someone had received the coordinate, identified the nearest aircraft, and covered the distance in less than twenty minutes.Less than twenty minutes from receiving a coordinate to being on location with a transport aircraft was not improvisation. It was preparation

POV: JaxonJaxon was out of the vehicle before Sierra finished her sentence.He moved to the front of the group with the unhurried deliberateness of someone who had learned in fifteen years of underground circuits that the most dangerous moment in any encounter was the one where everything looked right, because that was precisely when it was not. He positioned himself between the kneeling Alpha and the vehicle, close enough to the woman that he could read her clearly, far enough that he had room to move if reading her clearly produced the wrong answer.She was striking in the way long-term Alphas often were, not conventionally beautiful but carrying the kind of presence that made physical appearance irrelevant. She was tall, with silver-streaked dark hair worn loose to her shoulders and eyes that were a deep, warm brown, almost copper, that caught the moonlight with the luminosity of a wolf whose instincts ran close to the surface. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties, though that