Edgar’s voice was a jagged whisper through the mind-link.

Hudson’s brow furrowed as he tore open the leather satchel. Upon seeing the ancient parchment detailing the Mate-Contract Dissolution, he let out a harsh, guttural laugh that sounded more like a threat.

“Where is she?” Hudson growled. He tried to reach her through the network, but her signal was dark—her device was dead.

Edgar checked the flight-logs of the private air-strips. “She is likely on a Hayes-chartered bird, Alpha. It just took wing. Its destination is the Halstead Peaks.”

“Why the Peaks?” Hudson’s shadow seemed to expand, his inner wolf clawing at the surface. “Contact the flight-wardens. Force that bird down!...