In the heart of the Silver Ridge, Avery stirred as the low vibrations of lupine mutes reached her ears. Carrying a pup in this brutal hierarchy disrupted her internal rhythm, leaving her spirit-wolf restless and her physical form drained. Even within the sanctuary of her cell, a heavy lethargy clung to her bones. To her surprise, Bria had upheld the blood-pact, ensuring Avery received the vital nutrients and lunar tonics required for a high-rank pregnancy.

Lately, the Nixon princess had been consumed by the logistics of the Great Rite for Harrison Montgomery’s centennial, leaving Avery in a pocket of unintended solitude. Yet, Avery knew this peace was as thin as...