"You want to break the blood-bond?"

Hudson’s laughter was a serrated blade. He didn't even look at the parchment Avery had laid on the obsidian desk. He swiped it aside, the paper fluttering into the embers of the hearth. "You’re going to walk away from a Montgomery because of a few insults in the mud? Grow up, Avery."

Avery retrieved the document, her fingers trembling but her eyes hard. She slammed it back down, her palm flat against the mahogany.

"You’re serious." Hudson’s face darkened, the air in the room thickening with the heavy, suffocating pressure of an Alpha’s intent. "Fine. Leave. But you leave with nothing. Every scrap of silver, every garment, every ounce of meat you’ve eaten in this territory—pay it back. Then you can go be a rogue for all I care."

He expected her to crumble. Instead, Avery reached into her tunic and pulled out a single, leather-bound pouch. She emptied it. The heavy gold coins and the black credit-talisman he’d given her clattered onto the desk. She signed with sharp, violent motions. I haven’t touched a single piece of your gold. It’s all there.

Hudson’s jaw creaked. The muscles in his neck corded like iron cables. "Twenty million," he hissed, leaning over the desk until his nose was inches from hers. "The penalty for breaking a High-Blood Mate-Contract is twenty million credits in territorial tax. You don't have it. You’ll never have it. You’re trapped until I decide you’re done."

Avery’s breath hitched. Twenty million. It was a death sentence. She could spend a thousand years in the archives and never see that much wealth.

Hudson let out a low, mocking snort. "Go back to your room. Don't bring this trash to me again."

He turned to leave, but Avery lunged, blocking the heavy oak door. Her hands blurred in a desperate, frantic rhythm. Take the money from Sarah. She wants you. Marry her. She has the rank. Let me go.

Hudson slammed his fist into the door frame, right next to her head. The wood splintered. "You think I’m trading you for that? Twenty million, Avery. Not a credit less. Until then, you stay in my house and you stay in my bed."

He ripped the contract into a dozen pieces, the scraps falling like snow. The door groaned as he stormed out, leaving Avery shaking in the dark.

At one in the morning, the silence of the estate was shattered by the shrill scream of her phone.

"Is this the Ghost?"

Avery fumbled for the device. The voice on the other end was panicked, drowning in the thumping bass of a tavern.

"Hudson’s losing it at 'The Howl.' He’s half-shifted and tearing the place apart. If you don't get here, the Enforcers are going to put him down."

The line went dead. Avery’s heart hammered against her ribs. She didn't think. She threw on a cloak and sprinted for the gates, hailing a passing rogue-shuttle.

The Howl was a pit of sin on the edge of the Scarlett Vale. When Avery pushed through the swinging doors, the smell of spilled ale and wet fur hit her like a physical blow.

The room was a wreck. Tables were splintered into toothpoints. In the center, Hudson lounged on a shredded leather sofa, a half-empty bottle of moonshine in his hand. He looked lucid, but dangerous—his eyes glowing a steady, lethal amber.

Madison sat beside him, weeping into her silk sleeves.

Across from them, a standoff. Harper Bennett was backed into a corner, clutching a broken bottle like a dagger. Her brother, Grant Lawson, stood in front of her, his hands raised in a useless plea.

"Avery, thank the Moon," Harper gasped, her face bruised. "Tell this Alpha bastard to back off. I only told his mistress what she is."

"What she is," Hudson rumbled, his voice a low-frequency vibration that made the glass on the tables shatter, "is someone under my protection. And your friend here decided to test the sharpness of her claws."

Avery rushed forward, grabbing Harper’s arm, her eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, look," Madison sobbed, her voice dripping with fake agony. "The mute is here to save her little pet. Hudson, my face is ruined. She hit me so hard..."

"She deserved it!" Harper yelled, trying to lung past Avery.

"Grant," Hudson said, ignoring the women. "Your sister is a menace. If you want her to keep her tongue, she apologizes. Now."

"Hudson, man, she’s just drunk," Grant pleaded, eyeing the lethal set of Hudson’s shoulders.

Avery stepped between them. She looked at Madison, then at the fury in Hudson’s eyes. She knew how this ended. If blood spilled here, Harper would be exiled.

Avery knelt.

The tavern went silent. The only sound was the crackle of the hearth. Avery bowed her head until it nearly touched the grimy floorboards. She lifted her hands, signing a slow, agonizingly humble apology to Madison.

"I don't understand that hand-trash," Madison spat, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "If you want to say sorry, use the voice the Goddess gave you. Or better yet... show us how a Ghost begs."

"Sarah, that’s enough," Grant whispered, but a growl from Hudson silenced him.

Avery didn't hesitate. She raised her hand and slapped herself. The crack of palm against skin echoed in the vault-like room. She did it again. Harder. Her cheek turned a violent, stinging red.

Are you satisfied? she signed, her eyes vacant.

"Not even close," Madison laughed. "Get on your knees. Properly. Like a dog."

Avery sank lower. Her knees hit the floor, right on top of a pile of shattered glass. Sharp shards sliced through her leggings, biting into the flesh. She didn't flinch. She stayed there, a silent sacrifice to Hudson’s pride.

Hudson watched her. His expression didn't change, but the bottle in his hand began to crack under the pressure of his grip.

"That’s more like it," Madison sneered. "Now, bark for me, Ghost. Let’s hear that pretty—"

"Enough!"

Hudson was on his feet in a blur of motion. He didn't look at Madison. He didn't look at the crowd. He reached down and caught Avery by the waist, hauling her upward.

"Landon! You’re just going to let her—"

Hudson didn't answer. He kicked a heavy table out of his path and carried Avery toward the door.

"See that?" Harper shouted as the door swung open. "He still knows who his Luna is! Suck on that, Madison!"

Back at the villa, the air was thick with the scent of ozone. Hudson set Avery down in the foyer. She immediately pulled away, her hands moving in a dismissive wave. She didn't need his pity. She gestured toward his coat, asking if he needed the healer for the alcohol in his system.

Hudson just stared at her. His eyes moved down to her knees. The fabric was soaked in dark, heavy blood.

"You’re a fool," he muttered, the anger in his voice replaced by something jagged and raw.

Avery signed back, her movements slow and weary. Let Harper go. That’s all I want.

"She’s fine. I’m not hunting her," Hudson said, his gaze following her as she turned to limp toward the stairs.

Avery stopped. She turned back and signed one last thing. Why did you bring me back? You hate the silence. Why not just let me stay in the mud?

Hudson’s jaw tightened. He didn't answer. He watched her climb the stairs, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Upstairs, Avery stripped off her ruined clothes. The glass had done its work. Her knees were a mess of raw skin and crystalline slivers. She sat on the edge of the tub, the cold water stinging the wounds, but the physical pain was a distraction from the ache in her chest.

The door creaked.

Hudson stood in the doorway. He’d shed his shirt, his broad chest covered in the scars of a dozen pack wars. He walked toward her, the weight of his body making the floorboards groan.

He didn't ask. He picked her up and sat her on the vanity, forcing her legs apart so he could see the damage.

"I told you to stay home," he whispered, his breath warm against her thigh.

He reached for a silk cloth, soaking it in warm water. He began to dab at the blood, his movements surprisingly tender. Avery’s breath hitched. She tried to push him away, but he gripped her hip, pinning her in place.

"Don't," he growled.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her inner knee. Avery’s head fell back, a silent gasp escaping her. The shift in the air was instantaneous. The medicinal scent of the room was drowned out by the musk of a dominant male.

Hudson looked up at her, his eyes dark with a hunger that had nothing to do with the moon.

"You want to leave me, Avery?"

He stood up, pressing himself between her knees. His hands slid up her waist, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of her thin undergarments. He leaned in, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss that tasted of iron and salt.

Avery’s fingers tangled in his hair, her body betrayed by the primal heat he radiated. He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bed.

He threw her down, the weight of his body following immediately. It wasn't gentle. It was a reclamation. He pinned her wrists above her head, his chest heaving against hers.

"Try to leave," he hissed against her ear, his teeth grazing the lobe. "Try to find twenty million credits. But until you do, you’re mine. Every inch."

He moved lower, his tongue tracing the line of her throat where the scars were thickest. Avery’s back arched, her toes curling into the silk sheets. She couldn't speak, but her body was screaming.

He entered her with a single, devastating thrust that made the world go white. Avery’s eyes flew open, her hands clawing at his shoulders as he began a punishing, relentless rhythm. He was marking her from the inside out, his scent embedding itself in her skin, her hair, her soul.

When he finally collapsed against her, his heart thudding like a war drum, Avery lay in the wreckage of the bed, her skin stinging, her limbs leaden.

Hudson rolled off her, the warmth of his body replaced by the cold draft of the room. He didn't hold her. He stood up, adjusted his trousers, and walked toward the door.

"I’m leaving for the Northern Border at dawn," he said, not looking back. "Don't be here when I get back if you’ve found the money. But we both know you won't."

The door clicked shut.

Avery curled into a ball, the lingering warmth of him feeling like a brand. She reached under the pillow and felt the crumpled remains of the document she’d hidden there earlier.

A note from Dr. Ryan Mercer.

Avery, the blood work is back. It wasn't a fever that took your wolf. It was a poison. And the person who gave it to you is still in the house.

"Drop the job, Avery. Or Harper’s rank gets stripped to Omega."

Hudson’s voice didn’t rise. It didn't have to. The air in the Silver Ridge study tasted like iron and static—the weight of an Alpha’s command pressing against her lungs. Avery’s hands moved in a frantic, jagged rhythm. Don't touch her. She only defended me. I'll quit. I’ll stay.

Hudson’s jaw rippled as he ground his teeth, but he stayed rooted behind the desk.

The silence between them stretched, brittle and cold. Avery’s heart hammered a frantic tattoo against her ribs. She saw the flash of gold in his eyes—the beast beneath the skin looking for a reason to snap. If he went after Harper, it would be Avery’s fault. The guilt was a physical weight, a stone in her gut.

She stepped forward, her fingers trembling as she caught the rough wool of his sleeve. He didn't shake her off. Avery took a shallow, hitching breath. She forced her ruined vocal cords to vibrate, pushing a single, gravelly sound through the scars.

"Hud... son..."

The Alpha froze. The lethal tension in his shoulders shattered. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a second, the predatory mask cracked. He remembered the girl before the fever. The girl who used to howl at the moon by his side before her wolf went dormant and her voice broke.

"Fine," he rasped, his hand covering hers. "For you. She keeps her rank."

Avery let out a breath she’d been holding since the tavern. A weak, watery smile touched her lips. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled of cedar and the sharp, metallic tang of the storm.

He gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. His hand drifted to her hair, his fingers threading through the dark strands. He tilted her head back. His mouth crashed into hers, tasting of harsh ale and a sudden, desperate hunger.

The kiss was a claim. Avery met it, her fingers digging into his back, her body melting into the heat he radiated. Then, the shrill, persistent howl of a phone broke the spell.

Hudson tore away, his breath coming in ragged hitches. He snatched the device from the desk. Avery slumped against the bookshelf, her skin stinging, her mind a mess.

"Where are you?" Madison’s voice shrieked through the speaker, sharp enough to cut the air. "You promised! You said you’d stay at the Scarlett Vale tonight!"

Hudson’s face turned back to stone.

"I heard you went back to the estate," Madison hissed, her voice turning into a pathetic, high-pitched whine. "How could you? After that bitch attacked me? My face is bruised, Hudson. I can't even shift without pain. And you're there... with her."

Avery looked at the floor. The familiar ache returned, a dull throb in her chest.

"Avery is sick," Hudson said, his voice flat.

"I’m sick too!" Madison wailed. "My head is spinning, I’m shivering... I think my cycle is starting and my wolf is restless. I need my Alpha, Hudson. Please. Come to me."

The neediness in Madison’s tone was thick, cloying like rotten honey. Avery stepped toward Hudson. She signed with a weary, resigned grace. Go. Check on her. I am fine.

Hudson’s eyes turned amber. "You want me to leave?"

Avery misread the flash of hurt for anger. She quickly bowed her head, her hands moving in a blurred apology. I didn't mean to overhear. I'm sorry.

"I’m coming," Hudson snapped into the phone. He didn't look at Avery again. He grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out, the heavy oak door slamming with a force that rattled the windows.

The next morning, Avery walked into the archives to find Harper. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust.

"Avery! What happened?" Harper dropped a stack of scrolls, rushing over. "Did he hurt you? That bastard owes you more than a silent treatment."

Avery shook her head, a forced smile pinned to her face. She signed the truth—the version she had to tell. I’m resigning, Harper. It’s for the best.

Harper slammed her fist into a wooden pillar. "That bitch! This is Madison's doing, isn't it? She wants you isolated. Locked in that villa like a trophy he doesn't even want to display."

Avery patted Harper’s shoulder, her movements frantic. Don't. Stay quiet. I don't want you in trouble.

"I don't give a damn about trouble!" Harper sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I just hate seeing you play the martyr."

Avery pulled out a small pouch of silver coins—her own savings from years of translating. She pressed them into Harper’s hand.

"What the hell is this?" Harper demanded.

Compensation, Avery signed. For the trouble I brought you.

"Keep your damn silver!" Harper shoved the pouch back. "Why are you quitting? Is he forcing you? Divorce him, Avery. Come stay at my family’s den. We’re not High-Blood, but we don't treat our females like property."

Avery’s chest felt tight. Her head began to throb with a rhythmic, pulsing heat. She lied, her fingers moving slowly. He wants us to fix the marriage. He wants me home.

Harper’s eyes narrowed. "He wants to fix it? After last night? Pull the other one, Avery."

Avery tried to reply, but the room suddenly tilted. The rows of books blurred into a grey smear. Her legs turned to water.

"Avery!"

Harper’s scream was the last thing she heard before the floor rushed up to meet her.

Avery woke to the sterile, sharp scent of crushed herbs and antiseptic. The infirmary ceiling was a blur of white stone.

"Low glucose and severe exhaustion," a voice muttered.

Avery turned her head. Grant Lawson stood by the bed, his face etched with worry. Harper was pacing the small room, her boots clicking like a metronome.

"How could he let you get like this?" Grant asked, stepping closer. "Malnutrition? Does the Montgomery Alpha not feed his own mate?"

Avery managed a weak, dismissive sign. I forgot to eat. My fault.

In reality, the lavish meals she prepared for Hudson usually ended up in the scrap bin. Her stomach had shrunk until the very thought of food made her nauseous.

"Landon is a deadbeat," Harper spat. "I called his Enforcer. The guy told me not to 'bother the Alpha with trivialities.' Can you believe that? His wife collapses in the dirt and it’s a triviality?"

Avery’s heart sank. She signed quickly, her movements sharp. He was in a Council meeting. Don't blame him. I'm fine now.

"Yeah, you’re always fine," Harper sighed, opening a wooden box filled with smoked meat and berries. "Eat. All of it. Or I’m dragging you back to my den myself."

Grant stayed by the door, his gaze lingering on Avery with a heavy, unspoken regret.

Hours later, they dropped her at the villa gates. Avery expected the house to be empty, but as she pushed open the heavy front door, she saw him.

Hudson was sprawled on the furs of the sunken living room. His hair was a mess, his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. His eyes were dark, shadowed with a brooding, dangerous energy.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. His gaze dropped to the food box Harper had insisted she carry. "Out for a stroll with the commoners?"

Avery stood in the doorway, the scent of his jealousy—sharp and biting like woodsmoke—filling her nose. She clutched the box tighter, her knuckles white.

"Answer me, Avery," he growled, standing up. He moved toward her with a predator’s grace, his shadow stretching across the floor until it swallowed her whole. "Who were you with?"