Harper Bennett leaned back in the plush, fur-lined chair of Avery’s private sanctuary, her eyes glowing with a frantic, emerald light. "Avery, the pack-link is howling! You’ve shifted the entire social climate of the Silver Ridge while you were sleeping."

Avery froze, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. In a world where the Montgomerys controlled the narrative, any attention was usually a prelude to a hunt. She braced herself for the scent of a new scandal.

Harper didn't wait; she pressed a glowing obsidian slate into Avery's hands.

As the images flickered to life, Avery felt the tension in her shoulders snap. It wasn't a condemnation....