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Home / Werewolf / WICKED PROVIDENCE / Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

All Chapters of WICKED PROVIDENCE: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

144 Chapters

41

"Fair point..." Harper Bennett exhaled, yielding to the grim logic. "Hudson isn’t like the low-born wolves. He doesn’t just bark; he bites."Harper was about to ignite the carriage’s movement when she paused, her voice dropping an octave. "But what if he catches the scent of the pup, Avery? Have you truly prepared for the moment the Alpha realizes you’re carrying his heir?"Avery’s gaze drifted to the passing forest. She shook her head. She had no strategy for that storm; she only lived in the hope that she could outrun the clouds before they broke.Turning the focus, Avery signed to Harper, asking for a specific favor regarding the upcoming rites."Whatever you need! You don’t have to use high-court manners with me," Harper urged.Avery explained that Alpha Donovan had invited her to lead a restoration lecture at the Eastonville Academy. She knew Harper’s brother was a High Scholar of that territory and wondered if he had heard of any shifting winds regarding the event. Because she l

42

Avery, lost in the rhythm of the ancient archives, thanked Preston Hale with a small incline of her head.Ten minutes later, Harper Bennett returned to their side, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She pouted at Avery, her scent sour with frustration. "Honey, I really tried to track the logic of the First Age, but my brain is more suited for a battlefield than a riddle hall."Sadie Monroe chimed in, her voice heavy with resignation. "I’m no better with these cryptic ancestral puzzles. I doubt I’d be much help in securing that prize."Watching Preston still straining his mind within the crowd, trying to win the lantern for her, Avery felt a sharp prick of guilt. With a determined clench of her jaw, she decided to step into the fray herself.Harper had indeed fought hard, but the final riddle of the "Trial of Wits" was a jagged stone they couldn't leap over.Avery and Preston teamed up on the spot, confronting each layer of the puzzle as the Elder-staff presented them. Though Avery was a

43

Watching Hudson’s silver carriage vanish into the mist, Madison Clarke stormed back to her chambers. A ritual bath revived her predatory spirit, but an urgent, heavy thud against her door interrupted the silence.Avery assumed it was Harper or Sadie. The sanctuary’s security was fortified with Sentinel wards, and she carried a distress talisman etched into her skin for safety.Comforted by the ancient protections, Avery unlatched the heavy oak door, only to find Hudson standing there, his Alpha aura darkened to the color of a storm-tossed sea.Startled, Avery tried to slam the door, but Hudson surged forward, his boots blocking the threshold. Just as the wood nearly met the frame, a muffled grunt of pain echoed from the hallway.Overcome by a fleeting instinct of the Mate-Bond, Avery swung the door open. There he stood, a shadow of displeasure etched across his face, rubbing a bruised wrist.Hudson, despite the throbbing in his arm, couldn't suppress a dark chuckle at Avery’s icy post

44

The flicker of hope in Preston Hale’s eyes sputtered and went out. He read the heavy, silent refusal in Avery’s stance. She wouldn't retreat to his territory; she was rejecting the sanctuary of the North to face the storm of the Ridge.Preston gripped the wooden crate of rare mountain berries—a fortifying gift for her wolf—and managed a tight, pained smile. He extended it toward her. "I brought these from the high peaks to keep your strength up. Rest well, Avery. And remember, if the Montgomery shadow grows too cold, let out a howl. I will answer."Before Avery’s fingers could even brush the crate, Hudson intervened. With a blur of Alpha speed, he snatched the offering and cast it into a nearby stone refuse-pit.Hudson’s face was a mask of granite, his scent layered with the metallic tang of territorial aggression."She has all the sustenance she requires from her own Pack. You are finished here."Preston snarled, his eyes flashing amber, but he bit back a retort that would have start

45

On the jagged, wind-swept stone of the Academy’s outer courtyard, Avery Monroe began the delicate ritual of soul-mending.In the Silver Ridge, the restoration of ancestral relics was a sacred art usually performed in the sterile, silver-lined vaults of the Citadel. To see such a divine craft practiced in the open air, amidst the common scent of pine and the rowdy energy of the various packs, was unheard of.Seated in her shadowed corner, Avery became a silent vortex of focus. Her hands—scarred slightly from years of working with lunar ore but still long and elegant—moved with a grace that seemed to hum in tune with the earth. She was no longer a "dormant" wolf; she was a conduit.A crowd of disciples and travelers began to swell around her. The air, once filled with the boastful howls of young Alphas, grew quiet as they watched her."Her essence flows into the metal," a scholar whispered, eyes wide. "It’s as if the steel is recognizing its Alpha.""I’ve spent three winters in the Forg

46

Avery had no idea that these flickering moments would soon be relegated to the vault of unreachable memories. The sight of the pulverized amulet struck another blow to her spirit, a jagged declaration that the past was a carcass and their love was the carrion.Madison kept probing, her eyes wide with a predator's feigned innocence. "What’s the matter, Omega? Is the metal too stubborn for your 'dormant' hands? It looks like trash to me. I’m no artisan, but even a pup could see this isn't worth the silver it’s cast in."A bystander from a neutral pack, unable to stomach the cruelty, snarled in Avery’s defense. "You’re overstepping, Madison. Why direct your venom at the Artisan? It isn't her fault the piece was desecrated.""Exactly," another chimed in. "If she hesitates to touch it, it’s likely because your stench has fouled the relic.""I just handed Avery a Moon-shard pendant that was nearly dust, and she sang it back to life," a third witness added. "Your piece is simple work. Avery

47

The horror unfolded in a sickening blur of motion.Avery stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, as Madison tumbled forward. The sickening crack of bone against stone echoed in the stairwell, and crimson began to pool instantly against the cold marble.Avery’s mouth fell open, a silent scream caught in her damaged throat. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the broken form of the woman who had just tried to kill her.At the sound of the struggle and the fall, Preston Hale burst into the stairwell. His face mirrored Avery's shock as he took in the carnage. He was at her side in a heartbeat, his hands hovering over her shoulders. "Avery? Are you unharmed? Did she touch you?"Avery could only shake her head, her fingers trembling so violently she couldn't form a single sign. Her knees felt like water. She fumbled for her communication stone to alert the Pack Sentinels, but the heavy thud of orderly, militant footsteps already rumbled from the floors below.The fi

48

The door was kicked open not by a man, but by a storm. Hudson Montgomery stood in the threshold, his heavy fur cloak dusted with the night’s frost, his Alpha aura so pressurized the very air in Avery’s small chamber seemed to thin.Avery recoiled. She knew his black mood was a direct reaction to Madison’s blood on the Academy stones. He had come for a reckoning."I know you are standing there, voiceless and defiant," Hudson growled, his voice vibrating through the floorboards. "Undo the latch, or I will tear this wood from the frame."Avery pulled the handle. Hudson surged in, his massive frame eclipsing the candlelight. The mountain chill clung to his leather armor, and as he brushed past her, Avery shivered—not from the cold, but from the raw volatility rolling off him.He turned, his golden eyes frosted with disdain. Avery immediately began to sign, her hands jerky and sharp: I had no hand in her fall. She lunged, she tripped. I am not the one who spilled blood.Hudson’s jaw set in

49

The corridor of the Silver Ridge Infirmary smelled of sterile herbs and dried blood. Edgar, the Montgomery lead scout, looked at Avery’s ghostly pallor as she leaned against the stone wall. He stepped toward Hudson, his voice hushed. "Alpha, she is fading. Her wolf is dormant, she cannot heal like the rest of us. We must get her to a high healer."Hudson hesitated for a fraction of a heartbeat, his claws retracting into his gloves. He stepped aside, his face a mask of granite.Preston Hale didn't wait. He swept Avery into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. As he brushed past the Montgomery Alpha, Hudson’s voice dropped to a lethal, territorial hum. "Avery is bound to me by a blood-contract. Whatever rot exists in our den, you have no claim to her, Northern Prince."Preston’s amber eyes flared. He tightened his grip on the woman who looked like broken porcelain. "We shall see which Alpha she chooses when the winter comes."He strode away, his heavy boots echoing like thun

50

The atmosphere in the High Hall of the Montgomery Manor was thick with the scent of ozone and unsheathed claws. Madison Clarke, momentarily stunned by Avery’s unwavering, golden-eyed stare, quickly traded her shock for a predator’s snarl. "What is that look, Omega? Do you forget your place in this hierarchy? Who do you think you’re baring your teeth at?"Avery didn't flinch. She simply raised her communication stone, the text glowing with a cold, blue light: You are the one who should be hunting for a new den, not me. Alpha Harrison left this territory to both Hudson and me. He made it clear in the Blood-Will that I own half of this manor's soul. Hudson and I are still bound by the Mate-Contract, so I am staying exactly where I belong.Without waiting for a response, Avery brushed past Madison, her leather travel-trunk thudding against the stone as she marched back into the heart of the house.As the Fates would have it, she collided with Hudson as he descended the spiral staircase. M

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