Her fingers swiftly navigated the keyboard, inputting Fern Everly. At first, it was the usual: her basic information, school records showing she had graduated from a prestigious private academy, and a public-facing job profile that boasted of her involvement in charity events and community outreach.
Lavender scoffed. “Of course, you look perfect on paper.”
Then she clicked on Fern’s social media accounts. What she saw painted a very different picture. Fern was active across multiple platforms, her pages filled with glamorous selfies, group photos, and snapshots of her at extravagant parties. She was a social butterfly, always surrounded by people, always the center of attention.
The posts were curated, of course—everything perfectly polished—but Lavender had learned to read between the lines. In one photo, Fern clinked glasses with a group of equally glamorous friends, the caption reading: To another victory! Lavender frowned. What kind of victory?
As she dug deeper, a particular post caught her eye. It was a picture of Fern in a dimly lit bar, leaning into a man whose face was partly obscured. Her head was thrown back in laughter, a drink in hand, while the man’s arm wrapped around her waist. In another shot, she was seated on his lap, her fingers playfully resting on his chest.
There was a video attached to the post. Lavender clicked it as her hands trembled. The audio was muffled, but the man’s voice was unmistakable—the same cold, deep tone she’d heard in her mind during their conversation.
“That’s him,” Lavender whispered.
She paused the video, her eyes narrowing as she studied the man’s face. He was rugged, with sharp features. Something about him felt dangerous, predatory.
With a sinking feeling, Lavender went back to Fern’s friends list, scrolling quickly. There he was. His name was Kane Blackthorn, and his profile wasn’t private. Lavender clicked on it and felt her stomach drop. Kane was a werewolf too, and according to his profile, he was from the Bloodfang Pack.
The Bloodfang Pack.
Her breath stopped. Cedar’s father had crushed the Bloodfang Pack in a brutal battle years ago, driving most of them out of the territory and scattering the survivors. They had been enemies of the Shadowpelt Pack for decades.
Fern wasn’t just working with an outsider. She was working with a sworn enemy.