WICKED PROVIDENCE

"Forget about a pup, Avery. You didn’t even bother with the suppressant herbs after last night, did you?"

Hudson’s voice was a low vibration in the cramped space of the carriage. His eyes, glowing a predatory amber in the dim light, tracked the pulse jumping in Avery’s throat.

Avery lifted her hands, her movements sharp and jagged. It wasn't my fertile window. There’s no risk.

"Good," Hudson grunted, leaning back into the leather seat. The scent of his irritation—like ozone and wet earth—filled the cabin. "At least you’re being practical. A wolfless heir is a death sentence in the Silver Ridge. I don't need that headache."

Avery looked out the window. The jagged peaks of the Montgomery territory blurred behind a veil of freezing rain. She was a 'Ghost'—a high-born female whose wolf had never surfaced. To the pack, she was a defect. To Hudson, she was a silent contract meant to keep the Council off his back.

"The scent of the city is all over you," Hudson muttered, a sudden shift in his tone. "Go to the spa. Get the mud and the oils. I’ll send a Beta to guard you."

Avery shook her head, her fingers flying. I have work at the archives. The old scrolls need translating.

Hudson’s jaw tightened. "Menial labor. You’re the Luna of the Montgomery Pack, even if it’s just on paper. Stop acting like a servant."

Avery didn't respond. She couldn't. She just watched the rain. She remembered when they were kids—before the fever took her voice and her wolf. Hudson had promised to be her protector, her Alpha. He’d kept the title, but the boy who cared had been replaced by a man who looked at her like a broken tool.

The carriage lurched to a halt near the border of the Silver Ridge market. A sharp rap on the glass startled her.

As the window slid down, the scent of jasmine and desperation flooded in. Madison Clarke stood there, her blonde hair plastered to her face, eyes swollen and red. The pack’s "sweetheart"—and Hudson’s open secret.

"Hudson!" Madison sobbed, clutching the door handle. "I waited at the Scarlett Vale for hours. They told me you were at the Moon-Naming ceremony. Did you go back to her just to hurt me? Because we fought about the Council?"

Avery watched Hudson. The icy Alpha mask didn't just slip; it shattered.

"Madison, get inside before you catch a chill," Hudson said, his voice dropping an octave, sounding more human than he had all day.

"I won't!" Madison hissed, her eyes darting to Avery with pure venom. "Not while it is sitting there. Is she the reason you’re being so cold? Does her silence give you peace from my 'nagging'?"

"You’re being dramatic," Hudson said, though he reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair behind Madison’s ear.

Madison pouted, her voice turning into a sugary purr. "Then prove it. Make her get out. It’s freezing, and I’m not standing out here while a Ghost occupies my seat."

Hudson looked at Avery. There was no hesitation. No guilt. Just the cold calculation of a wolf choosing his favorite.

"The archives are only a few blocks away," Hudson said. "The walk will do you good. Get out, Avery."

Avery felt the sting in her eyes but refused to let a tear fall. She opened the door and stepped into the slush. Madison didn't wait for her to clear the path. She climbed in, pulling out a silk cloth and frantically wiping down the leather where Avery had been sitting.

"Ugh, it smells like... nothing," Madison mocked, loud enough for Avery to hear through the closing door. "Like a vacuum. How do you stand the scent of a wolfless female, Hudson? It’s like sleeping with a corpse."

"Drop it, Madison," Hudson’s voice muffled as the carriage pulled away, splashing muddy water over Avery’s boots.

Avery stood in the rain, her chest aching with a scream that would never find air. She turned and began the long trek toward the archives.

"I’m going to shift and rip his throat out," Harper Bennett snarled, slamming a stack of heavy parchment onto the desk. "I don't care if he’s the Alpha. Throwing you out in the rain for that mangy coyote?"

Avery managed a weak smile, signing a quick thank you. Harper was the only one in the pack who didn't treat her like an omen of bad luck.

"This 'Mate-Contract' is a cage, Avery," Harper whispered, leaning in. "Look at you. You’re a brilliant translator. You know the old tongue better than the Elders. You’re worth ten of Madison. If you ever get a chance to run, take it."

Avery nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. She felt heavy. Exhausted.

"Look, I’ll handle the delivery to the Silver Ridge Hotel," Harper said, grabbing a crate of magazines and scrolls. "You look like you’re about to collapse. Go to the breakroom. Drink some tea."

Avery shook her head. She couldn't let Harper do the heavy lifting. They argued in silence for a minute before agreeing to split the delivery.

The Silver Ridge Hotel was a sprawling fortress of glass and stone, usually reserved for visiting Alphas. Avery pushed a heavy brass cart toward the service elevators in Building A, her muscles screaming.

"Well, look what the rain washed in."

Avery froze. Madison Clarke stood by the elevator, draped in a new white fox-fur coat that screamed Montgomery wealth. Gone was the crying girl from the carriage. In her place was a predator.

"Following us, Ghost?" Madison stepped into Avery’s personal space. Her scent was aggressive now—sharp and mocking. "Did you think you’d catch us in the penthouse? Planning to watch since you can't participate?"

Avery’s hands moved with practiced coldness. I am working. Move.

Madison laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Working? You’re a delivery girl. A mute servant with a fancy last name. You think because Hudson defends your 'honor' in front of his mother that he actually wants you? He’s just protecting his property."

Madison leaned in, whispering into Avery’s ear. "He told me last night that being with you is like a chore. He has to close his eyes and pretend you're me just to finish. You’re a placeholder, Avery. A biological error."

Avery’s vision blurred. She shoved the cart forward, forcing Madison to step back. Her hands moved in a blur of motion. Hudson will never love a snake like you. He knows what you are.

Madison’s face contorted. "He loves what I can give him. A real wolf. An heir. Things a broken thing like you can never provide."

Madison grabbed Avery’s wrist, her grip tightening until the bone groaned. "Stay away from the penthouse. If I see your pathetic face near our room, I’ll make sure the Council hears about your 'instability.' One word from me, and they’ll have you sent to the Outlands."

Avery ripped her arm away, her throat tight. She didn't stay to watch Madison walk away. She pushed the cart into the elevator, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She reached the top floor, her mind a static mess of Madison’s insults and Hudson’s cold eyes. She needed to finish the delivery and disappear.

As she rounded the corner toward the Alpha Suite’s library, a door stood slightly ajar.

The sound hit her first. A low, guttural growl that she knew intimately.

Avery stopped. Through the gap in the door, she saw him. Hudson was pinned against the mahogany desk, his shirt discarded on the floor. Madison was draped over him, her hands wandering over his scarred chest.

"Tell me," Madison moaned, her voice carrying easily in the quiet hallway. "Tell me she means nothing. Tell me you’ll sign the papers after the winter solstice."

Hudson’s hands gripped Madison’s waist, his knuckles white. He didn't answer with words. He growled, a sound of pure, primal hunger, and buried his face in her neck.

Avery didn't drop the magazines. She didn't make a sound. She simply stood there as the reality of her five-year silence finally shattered.

She turned the cart around, the wheels squeaking on the marble floor. She didn't care who heard. She didn't care if the Council saw her.

She made it to the service stairs before her legs gave out. She slumped against the cold concrete, her breath coming in ragged, silent sobs.

A shadow fell over her.

"You shouldn't be here, Avery."

She looked up. Dr. Ryan Mercer, the pack’s physician, stood over her. His expression wasn't cold like the others. It was... pained.

"I was looking for you," Mercer said, his voice a low whisper. He held a small, leather-bound folder. "The blood tests from your last 'check-up' with the Matriarch... I found something. Something they tried to bury."

Avery frowned, her fingers trembling as she signed. What?

Mercer knelt beside her, his eyes darting to the security camera at the end of the hall.

"You aren't a Ghost, Avery. Your wolf isn't dormant because of a fever. It was suppressed. Chemically."

Avery’s heart stopped.

"And the pregnancy you 'lost' three years ago?" Mercer’s voice was barely audible. "It didn't fail. It was taken. And it wasn't the only one."

The world tilted. Avery gripped the doctor’s sleeve, her eyes pleading for him to stop, for him to explain.

"Hudson thinks you’re barren," Mercer said, "because that’s what his mother wants him to believe. But Avery... look at the dates."

He opened the folder, pointing to a series of lab results.

"You’re pregnant right now. Five weeks."

Avery stared at the paper. Last night. The "carelessness."

"And if Victoria finds out," Mercer whispered, "you won't make it to the next full moon."