Hudson reignited the engine of the sleek Audi, the tires crunching over the gravel as he guided them back toward the Montgomery estate.

“I had no scent of this,” Hudson muttered, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone that might have been mistaken for sympathy in a lesser wolf.

Avery remained a statue of indifference. She knew there were many shadows in the Silver Ridge that Hudson ignored—mostly because he never bothered to sharpen his senses to her pain. If he had truly cared for the truth, he would have seen it years ago. His selective blindness regarding Madison Clarke was all the proof she needed that his concern...