All Chapters of WICKED PROVIDENCE: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"Spit it out. Tell the truth, and I might let you crawl back to whatever hole you came from," Harper snarled. Her claws were half-extended, grazing the assassin’s throat. She didn't care about the Silver Ridge Enforcers; she wanted this cur to admit Madison had pulled the strings so Hudson would finally see the viper in his bed.The man’s face was a map of blood and tears. "I did it because of her!" he wheezed, pointing a shaking finger at Avery. "I couldn't take it anymore. She was draining me dry. Constantly demanding gold, threatening to tell the Alpha I was skimming from the border trade. I’m broke because of her!"Harper’s jaw dropped. The room felt like the air had been sucked out. "What did you just say? You better start lying better, or I’ll rip your tongue out.""It’s the truth! Look at the scrolls! Look at the device!" the man shrieked. "I recorded her. I kept everything so she couldn't kill me once I ran out of coin!"Harper grabbed the man’s communication device, her finge

Harper snatched a jagged black obsidian card from her belt and slammed it onto the marble counter. "My sister-mate needs the restorative minerals of the deep-basin pools. Clear the Alpha-tier grotto. Now.""I’d like that sanctuary as well," Madison interjected, her voice a sharp contrast to the bubbling water nearby."Um, Lady..." The manager stammered, his eyes darting between Harper’s bared teeth and Madison’s smug grin. "You haven't sent a messenger to reserve the space...""And neither has the Ghost, right?" Madison retorted. She reached into her silk satchel and produced a heavy, silver-embossed tablet—the seal of the Montgomery High-Alpha.The manager’s knees hit the floor instantly. He didn't recognize Madison’s face, but he knew the scent of that silver seal. It carried the pheromones of Hudson Montgomery himself. "Forgive me! I didn't realize... a guest of the High-Alpha! Please, the grotto is yours.""Hold it!" Harper stepped into the manager's personal space, her growl vibr

"Perhaps the little stray hasn't been properly collared. Too many high-born wolves at once and her mind simply... snapped."Hudson’s golden eyes didn't even flick toward Blake Donovan. Sensing the Alpha’s lethality, the scout lowered his head and retreated into the shadows of the stone pillars."Heel." The command from Hudson was a vibration in his chest, a low-frequency threat. Avery bowed her head, the fragile light in her eyes extinguishing. She was the Luna of the Silver Ridge, yet she lived like a prisoner in the High-Hall, a decorative ghost. Was this her life because her wolf was silent? Because she couldn't answer his roars with her own?Hudson steered her toward a recessed alcove, away from the dancing. He was instantly besieged by Elders and Beta-chiefs looking to curry favor. Madison Clarke surged forward, sliding into the space at Hudson’s side with the practiced ease of a predator, her shoulder brushing his as if they were the true power pair of the Montgomery line.Aver

Avery took her place at the designated workbench, the scent of aged cedar and pine resin grounding her. She pulled on a pair of fine, lambskin gloves.“Twenty minutes on the hourglass,” Gregory announced, his smirk sharpening. He flipped the sand-timer onto the stone table without checking if Avery had even centered the tray.“Wait, isn’t it traditional to allow a candidate to scent the magic of the clay and study the fractures first?” a petite apprentice with soft features and a low-rank braid whispered from the corner. She was trying to throw Avery a lifeline, but Gregory cut her off with a flick of his hand.Unfazed by the lack of preparation, Avery lifted her silver tweezers. She didn't rush. Her movements were fluid, almost melodic, as she began to navigate the sea of bone-white shards.“Humph. These young pups from the High-Hall think titles make them craftsmen. Just wait until the sand runs out!” Hayden’s communication crystal chirped, the digital voice echoing his frustration

The air in the chamber hung heavy with the scent of Hudson’s dominant aura. Avery felt a tremor in her limbs—what was the High-Alpha thinking, marking her so possessively in a den of scholars?Thankfully, the contact was fleeting. Hudson pulled back, his talons lingering on her waist for a heartbeat before he shoved a heavy, iron-bound box into her hands and vanished into the mist without a word.Heart hammering against her ribs, Avery turned to find Gregory standing awkwardly in the stone archway of the workshop."The elk-stew is losing its heat," Gregory noted, clearing his throat to break the tension.Avery stowed the mysterious box and returned to the communal table.After the meal, curiosity gnawed at her like a hungry pup. She unlatched the iron box and found an ancient bone-enamel bracelet, a near-mirror image of the one Stella had brought in. Avery’s breath hitched. She lifted the relic, the moonlight catching the fine etchings. It bore the Rowan crest, but the hallmark indica