The storm I unleashed at the Elm Grove ritual didn’t just rattle the windows of Turner Studios; it brought the whole spire shaking down. The digital pack-links were flooded with a relentless hunt against Blake and Riley. For the first time in the lineage's history, Blake Turner was looking at total pack dissolution. His scent was no longer that of a leader, but of a cornered scavenger, his hatred for me curdling into a dark, obsessive rot.
The Studio elders demanded an audience with him, and in his panic, Blake reached across the border to his sister, Mia, a high-ranking manager in the Southern Territories.
"Blake, I’ve seen the howling on the links," Mia’s voice came through cold and sharp. "You need to remind the city who holds the leash. Ava Hart is just a wolf on your roster. Her fat
