As Avery massaged her aching temples, a sharp tactical thought pierced her exhaustion. "Who currently sits on the Obsidian Throne of the Montgomery Group?"

"Bennett’s bastard, Grant," her assistant replied. "He was once a nameless stray due to his tainted bloodline, but the Council of Elders recently branded him with the family crest to stabilize the hierarchy."

A flicker of predatory interest lit Avery’s eyes. "Scent him out. I want to share a blood-toast with him tonight."

The assistant’s ears flattened in uncertainty. "That will be a difficult hunt. Since he claimed the title, he has stayed deep in the inner sanctum. He does not grant audiences to outsiders."

Unperturbed,...