“Where the hell did this come from?”

Hudson’s voice was a low-frequency vibration that rattled the crystal decanters on the sideboard. He didn't look at the wooden box Avery had set on the stone counter; he looked at her, his amber eyes tracking the frantic pulse in her throat. His scent—heavy with the metallic tang of an Alpha's suspicion—filled the kitchen.

Avery’s fingers blurred in the dim light, the motion jagged. I went to the archives to finish my resignation. I'm done.

“And who brought you back to the territory? Who’d you share a kill with for lunch?” He moved closer, the heat radiating off his massive frame pressing against...