Avery froze as she caught sight of Hudson standing on the ground floor of the studio, his fingers curled around several ornate silver canisters of food.

The memory of his bruising, possessive kiss in front of Gregory was still fresh—a brand on her skin that made her blood hum with a mixture of fear and fury. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, dreading another display of Alpha dominance in front of her peers. To be claimed like a trophy in the very place she sought her independence was a humiliation she wasn't sure she could endure.

"Don't just hover in the shadows, Avery. The kill is fresh," Hudson...