Ava’s POV

I grabbed the empty tray and smoothed down my Shadow Creek formal wear, the deep blue fabric catching the light under Moonlight Lodge’s chandeliers. The plan was simple—play waitress, get close to the Northern territory delegates, and dig up dirt about the border clash that supposedly implicated my father.

Before I could reach my targets, a group of Jackson’s warrior buddies spotted me. Their eyes tracked me like I was the last steak at a barbecue as I approached with my fake server smile plastered on.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” one warrior chuckled, eyeing me up and down. “Fancy clothes can’t hide what she really is.”

I kept my poker face, refusing to give these jerks the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

“Hey, unmarked,” another called out, the slur hitting me like a slap. “Got any drinks, or are you just gonna stand there looking like roadkill?”

Unmarked. The word made my skin crawl. It’s what they called wolves whose mates had rejected them—damaged goods in pack hierarchy. I bit back a growl and stepped forward.

“Mind your manners. This is neutral ground,” I said, keeping my voice steady while pouring drinks for each smirking warrior.

As I leaned over to serve the last glass, a hand grabbed my waist. I froze, every muscle in my body going tight as a bowstring.

“That dress is doing you favors,” he murmured, his breath hot on my ear. “But I’d rather see it on my floor.”

My wolf nearly broke free, teeth aching to rip out his throat. I stepped back, shaking off his hand like it was something gross I’d found in my food.

“Touch me again and lose the hand,” I warned, my voice dropping to that dangerous place that made smarter wolves back up.

Another warrior leaned in, eyes gleaming like he’d found a new toy. “C’mon, Ava. Since Jackson tossed you back in the pond, why not have some fun? Have a drink with real wolves.”

I clenched my jaw so tight I heard teeth crack, feeling that telltale heat in my eyes that meant my wolf was surfacing.

“I’m here for information, not to entertain frat boys with badges,” I snapped.

The first warrior snorted. “Cut the crap. Nobody buys you’re here to ‘investigate.’ You knew Jackson would parade his new trophy tonight. You’re just trying to catch his eye.”

His words hit a nerve. I glanced across the hall where Jackson had just walked in, Sophia hanging off his arm like designer jewelry. His eyes found mine through the crowd, a dangerous glint in them as he watched this mess unfold. Once upon a time, he’d have torn apart any wolf who even looked at me sideways. Now he was enjoying the show.

“Come here, leftover,” the warrior raised his glass, eyebrows doing a sleazy dance. “We’ll help you forget that mark.”

I stared, speechless. These were supposed to be elite pack warriors—honor-bound protectors—acting like drunk college boys on spring break.

“If you ditch this stuffy party and come with us down to Moonlight Lake,” one said, leaning so close I could smell the whiskey on his breath, “I’ll spill everything about the border clash.”

My heart skipped. This was exactly what I needed.

“What did you say?” I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise.

“You heard me. Come with us, get the info you want.”

Another wolf smirked. “And if you make it worth our while, we might even tell you what really went down that day and who actually stabbed your Alpha in the back.”

I weighed my options, then glanced back at Jackson and Sophia. My eyes locked with his; he raised an eyebrow, watching everything with that smug little half-smile that used to make my heart race but now just made my stomach turn.