Avery's POV
The low hum of conversations filled the bar, the usual backdrop to my evenings. I had continued wiping down the counter, trying to distract myself from thoughts of the hooded man or pack matters, but snippets of the conversation continued to catch my attention.
"I heard the Bloodmoon Pack gave an ultimatum this morning," a gruff voice said, loud enough to rise above the din.
I froze mid-swipe, my heart skipping a beat. Bloodmoon Pack?
What business of mine was it anyway? Golden Ridge wasn't my home anymore, I had no business there. But Charles was still there, and I wanted him to be alright no matter what.
"They're demanding Golden Ridge hand over the mines," another voice chimed in, this one younger, almost eager. "If they don't, there'll be a war for sure."
My hands stilled, and the cloth fell to the counter. War? That single word sent a chill down my spine, unraveling the fragile sense of peace I'd managed to build over the past few months.