The scent of cedarwood and rain clung to the hotel’s upper corridors like a persistent memory. Hunter moved through the Penthouse hallway with the silent, predatory grace of a wolf that had finally cornered its prey. Behind him, the Blood-Moon Enforcers kept a respectful distance; they knew better than to interfere when their Alpha was in a state of "Blood-Trace."
The Council meeting had been a humiliation, a cold-blooded execution of his authority by a woman who called herself Adeline Vane. But Hunter wasn't thinking about the Silver-Vein Valley or the billions of credits lost. He was thinking about the way the "mysterious CEO" had looked at him—with eyes that held five years of frozen tears and a mercury light that belonged only to his mate.
"Stay at the elevators," Hunter commanded,
