The malice was a dark scent beneath the flowery musk of Scarlett’s facade.

Avery knew that to wear that blue stone was to accept the collar of a subordinate. With a cold, rhythmic tapping on her device, the mechanical voice filled the silent clearing: “I cannot take a tribute that belongs to the future Luna of the Montgomery Pack. It would be a violation of the Silver Laws.”

Scarlett’s eyes flashed with a predatory glint, her expression shifting instantly to wounded vulnerability. “Why do you reject the olive branch, Avery? Are you still nursing a grudge because of the misunderstanding in the cabin? Today is my birth-feast, and though I...