Avery’s hands were useless. No matter how fast her fingers blurred in the ancient sign language of the Silver Ridge, they couldn't cut through the thick, oily smear of Madison’s lies.
Madison’s mouth twisted into a jagged grin. "Don't get it twisted, Ghost. Those hand signals? To Hudson, they’re just the annoying twitching of a pet that can't bark. You think that Mate-Contract makes you a Luna?"
Avery’s jaw tightened. A sharp, clicking sound escaped her scarred throat as she tried to force out a rejection. Not true.
"Don't strain yourself," Madison sneered, stepping closer until the scent of her cloying jasmine perfume choked Avery. "Why try to speak when you could just crawl? It’s more your speed. Go on. Get on all fours and maybe I’ll toss you a scrap of Hudson’s attention."
Madison leaned down, her voice a cruel hiss. "Oh, wait. I forgot. You can't even growl. You’re less than a wolf. You're just a parasite in a silver dress."
Suddenly, a blur of motion erupted from the shadows of the hotel corridor. A hand clamped onto Madison’s blonde hair, yanking her head back with a sickening snap of her neck.
"You shameless bitch!" Harper Bennett screamed. "You’re a tick on this pack’s hide. How dare you talk to the Alpha’s mate like she’s dirt?"
Harper didn't let go. She twisted her grip, nearly lifting Madison off her stilettos. Madison shrieked, clawing at Harper’s arm, her pampered nails drawing blood. Harper didn't flinch. She swung her free hand in a brutal arc, the slap echoing like a gunshot through the marble hall.
"Hit me again and I’ll shift and eat your heart!" Madison wailed, stumbling back. Her balance failed, and she hit the floor hard, right at Avery’s feet.
But the second Madison saw a shadow darkening the far end of the hallway, her face transformed. The malice vanished, replaced by a trembling, tear-streaked mask of terror. She grabbed Avery’s ankle, sobbing.
"I’m sorry! Please, Avery, I didn't mean to mention the old days... I know you hate that Hudson loved me first! Just don't let her hit me again... please!"
"Avery! What the hell is going on?"
Hudson’s voice was a physical weight. He stalked toward them, his Alpha aura flared so high the lights in the corridor flickered.
Madison buried her face in her hands. "Hudson, don't blame her! It’s my fault for being here. She has every right to be bitter... I deserve this..."
Harper stepped forward, chest heaving. "Don't listen to this parasite! I’m the one who leveled her. Avery didn't do a damn thing but stand there while this bitch insulted her bloodline."
Hudson didn't look at Harper. His amber eyes were locked on Avery, cold and sharp as obsidian shards. "Avery, you’re supposed to be at the archives. This is what you do with your time? Stalking the halls to start brawls?"
Avery felt a hot tear track through the grime on her cheek. She reached out, her fingers trembling as she tried to sign the truth, but Hudson already had his arm around Madison’s waist, hoisting her up.
"You're a disappointment," Hudson spat.
He turned his back, Madison clinging to him like a vine. Their fingers intertwined as they walked away.
"Wait for me!" Madison whimpered, her voice dripping with fake frailty. She leaned into his ear, loud enough for the wind to carry back. "Why is she even here? Probably meeting some rogue... no wonder she stays silent. Hard to lie when you can't speak."
Hudson stiffened. He stopped, ripping his hand out of Madison’s grasp. "Shut up, Madison. Not another word."
He climbed into the black obsidian SUV as the first crack of thunder split the sky. The heavens opened, a torrential deluge turning the Silver Ridge into a swamp of gray mud. Madison, locked out of the passenger side, pounded on the glass, her expensive fur coat soaking through in seconds.
"Hudson! Let me in!"
Harper stood under the hotel awning, arms crossed, a savage smirk on her face. "Looks like the Alpha’s bored of his toy."
"You!" Madison screamed, turning on Harper. "You’ll pay for this! I’ll have your rank stripped!"
"Save it for the Council, you mangy cur," Harper shouted over the rain. "Hudson, be a man for once! Don't let a lying mistress rot your brain. Think about your mate!"
The SUV’s engine roared, a predatory growl that drowned out the storm, and Hudson tore away, leaving Madison screaming in the mud.
The subway ride back to the Montgomery Estate was a blur of shivering limbs and wet wool. By the time Avery reached the heavy iron gates, she was caked in filth, her skin a ghostly shade of blue.
She pressed her thumb to the biometric scanner. Access Denied.
The red light blinked like a taunting eye. Hudson had revoked her clearance.
She stood at the gate, the rain lashing against her. Thunder boomed, a sound that usually sent her scurrying under the furs in the master suite. Tonight, there was no cover.
Inside the dark study, Hudson sat by the window. He watched the grainy black-and-white feed from the gate cameras. Avery was a small, crumpled shape in the storm.
"Sir..." Preston Hale, the head butler, stepped into the shadows. "The storm is worsening. The temperature is dropping below freezing. Your mate..."
"She’s fine," Hudson growled, his eyes fixed on the screen. "She needs to learn that her actions have consequences. Who was she with at the hotel?"
He pulled up the hotel's internal feed. He watched the footage of the book delivery. He saw the crate of magazines. He saw the exact moment Madison had intercepted her. He watched without sound as Madison’s mouth moved with venom, and then saw Harper’s intervention.
Avery hadn't raised a hand. She had just taken it.
Hudson’s jaw creaked. "How long has she been out there?"
"Over an hour, Alpha," Preston whispered.
A lightning strike hit a nearby pine, the crack deafening. Hudson was on his feet before the sound died. He sprinted down the stairs, throwing the front doors open.
The driveway was a river. Avery was face down in the mud, her raincoat tangled around her legs. She wasn't moving.
"Avery!"
He scooped her up. She was terrifyingly light, her skin like ice against his heated palms. Her heart was a frantic, dying flutter.
"Get Dr. Mercer! Now!"
He carried her into the hall, ripping the wet fabric from her body with trembling hands. He wrapped her in a thick wool throw, his pulse thundering in his ears as he felt the sharpness of her ribs. When had she become so thin?
"What the hell did you do, Hudson? Run out of meat and start feeding on your wife?"
Dr. Ryan Mercer didn't wait for an invite. He burst through the door, soaking wet and smelling of medicinal herbs. He pushed Hudson aside, his hands moving over Avery’s frigid skin.
"Save the commentary and fix her!" Hudson barked, pacing the room like a caged beast.
"Another ten minutes and you’d be looking for a new Luna to sign your contracts," Mercer snapped, his voice jagged with anger. "She’s got stage-one hypothermia and a fever that’s going to melt her brain. What’s the matter, Hudson? Looking for a tragic accident to clear the way for Madison?"
"Shut your mouth before I tear it out!"
Mercer didn't flinch. He injected a stimulant into Avery’s arm and piled more heated stones around her. "She’s stable. For now. But if she stays in this house with the stress you’re putting on her, the fever won't be what kills her."
Hudson stayed by her side all night. He watched the flush of the fever creep up her neck. By morning, she was awake, her eyes wide and glassy as she saw him sitting in the armchair.
"You’re staying home," Hudson said, his voice raw. "No more archives. No more deliveries. You’ll stay within the territory borders where I can see you."
Avery sat up, her hands moving in a frantic, desperate blur. I love my work. It’s all I have.
"I’ll buy you a library," Hudson snapped, standing up. "I’ll build you a tower of books. But you’re staying away from that Harper female. She’s a bad influence. She makes you bold."
Avery felt the familiar suffocating weight of his control. She lunged forward, grabbing his sleeve, her eyes screaming the words her throat couldn't form.
Suddenly, her stomach lurched. The smell of Hudson’s cedar-scented soap, usually comforting, hit her like a physical blow. She doubled over, retching violently into the basin by the bed.
Hudson’s hand hovered over her back, his expression shifting from anger to a sharp, sudden suspicion.
"Avery," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. "We were 'careless' two nights ago. But the symptoms don't start that fast."
Avery froze. She looked at the door where Dr. Mercer had left the folder. If Hudson knew she was already pregnant—and that it wasn't his—the "Mate-Contract" wouldn't just be void. It would be a death warrant.
"Unless," Hudson’s eyes narrowed, the Alpha's intuition flaring, "you’ve been keeping secrets from me long before the hotel."
The door to the bedroom creaked open. Victoria Montgomery stood there, her eyes landing on Avery’s heaving form with the cold precision of a butcher.
"Is she ill, Hudson? Or is she finally showing her true, tainted colors?"