Chapter 28 Wolfe #2
Her clothes came off quickly, mine just as fast. I laid her across her father’s old desk, and I kissed and licked every part of her body, loving the scent of her clean skin, regretting that I hadn’t had time to shower.
Her soft thighs were around my head as I sucked and licked at her pussy, my tongue stroking from the bottom of her entrance all the way to her clit.
I kept going until her thighs were tight around my head, and I almost didn’t hear her soft cries.
Then I slid inside her, feeling her hot, slick heat all around me.
Feeling her walls tightening as she got closer.
Her hips rose to meet mine as I drove mine into her.
Fuck, I would never get enough of her.
Wolfe…I’m…
I know, come for me, princess. I want to feel you coming on my cock.
Her body tensed, and then she was gripping me, crying out my name as her legs wrapped tightly around me, and I had no choice but to follow her down.
When we got our breath back, Rowen looked at me almost sheepishly. “I don’t think I should have come out of the house,” she murmured. “I thought it was past.”
“I’m not complaining.” I kissed her softly and then helped her off the desk. We straightened our clothes, stealing kisses, and when I sat at the desk, she slipped out the door to clean up, and when she came back, she perched on the arm of the chair.
I called for them to come back, not one of them hiding their grins as they retook their seats.
Diesel dipped his head. Now you’re relaxed.
“So…” I said, ignoring Diesel’s bait. “Where were we?”
Killian and Brand caught Rowen up quickly, their voices low and clipped. She listened without interrupting, arms folded, face unreadable. The silence that followed was thick enough to chew on.
It was Rowen who shattered it. “We don’t wait,” she said, voice clear and even. “We prepare.”
Killian nodded, the slow kind that meant he’d already been thinking the same. “Word’s going to spread fast. If the Pack Council is summoning alphas, they’re not just poking around. They’re building a case.”
“A case against Wolfe,” Brand muttered. “Against both of you.”
I didn’t flinch. “They want to strip Blueridge Hollow of its alpha. Keep me boxed in at Stonefang. A cautionary tale, maybe. Look what happens when you grow too strong too fast.”
“They won’t stop with us,” Diesel said, his tone colder than usual. “If they succeed here, the message is clear—no pack is safe from their leash.”
Rowen scanned the room, gaze like a blade. “Then we make damn sure they don’t succeed.”
“All of this,” I said, voice low, “was never about the rogue attacks. That was smoke. This was always about control. About Blueridge Hollow staying compliant. Subdued. Led by someone who wouldn’t challenge the old systems.”
“Instead,” Diesel smirked, “you gave them a union they never saw coming.”
I looked at my mate. “Malric did this,” I said softly to her. “He wanted us together for this. He proposed we marry for the good of the pack… Do you think he knew what we would uncover?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But I like to think he knew we’d face any challenges together. We exposed traitors,” Rowen said, her eyes shone with emotion as she thought of her father. “We united two packs. The Pack Council are scrambling because we’re stronger than they ever expected.”
“And they’ll move fast before others start to follow the same path,” Brand warned.
I took a breath, met each of their gazes. “We don’t strike first. But we prepare like war’s already at our door.”
“War’s already been at the door. It hasn’t left.” Brand leaned forward, elbows on knees. “We’ve fortified the perimeters. Ridges. Every entrance. Every trail.”
“We’ve mobilized the young wolves,” Killian added. “Got them on rotation with the Stonefang hunters. Everyone has a job.”
“The pack is in a better place than it was.” Diesel glanced sideways at me. “And the Pack Council?”
I turned to Rowen, let her see the decision in my eyes. “We answer the summons,” I said. “Both of us. Together.”
She nodded once, firm. “Let them see what unity looks like.”
Diesel didn’t argue. Neither did anyone else. But the moment sat heavy in the room, like a storm that hadn’t broken yet.
“We stand,” I said firmly. “No matter what comes next. We stand.”
That was when Diesel spoke again, quieter this time. “Where’s your druid stand in all this?”
Rowen’s brow creased. “The druid protects Blueridge Hollow. They always have.”
Diesel’s gaze didn’t leave mine. “Do they indeed?”
My gut twisted. “What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t see your druid giving you any counsel,” Diesel said. “No guidance. No allegiance.”
“It’s…complicated.” The words felt weak even as I said them. “They think I have too much—”
He looked at me, eyes gleaming with knowledge. “You see it now, Alpha, don’t you?”
I did. I turned to Rowen. “It’s not you.”
Her face crumpled in confusion. “What isn’t?”
“We were made to think it was about territory. About titles. About Stonefang and the Hollow. It’s not.”
“It’s about power,” Killian said. “Old magic. Territory bound to wolves by more than blood and hierarchy. The Hollow’s old. Older than we know. Stonefang too.” He glanced at Diesel. “You’ve always known it.”
Diesel dipped his head, acknowledging without explaining.
“The Council doesn’t care how much land I hold,” I said. “They care what kind of land it is. And who commands it.”
Killian stared at me. “It’s you, Wolfe. Not because of your title. Because of what the land recognizes in you. That’s why they want to divide you from it. Because without you…”
“The power shifts,” Brand finished.
Diesel leaned forward, voice velvet-soft. “So I’ll ask again. Where does the druid stand?”
And for the first time, I didn’t have an answer. “I’ll ask,” I told them. “I’ll go now.”
Rowen and I didn’t speak as we made our way through the Hollow.
The sun was bleeding into the ridges, copper-gold on pine. The wind carried the scent of earth and smoke—remnants of battle still clinging to the soil. It should’ve calmed me.
It didn’t.
The druid’s tent waited like it always did. Weathered. Still. Watching.
I didn’t hesitate, I ducked though the flaps, no hesitations, no ceremony. They stood in the center, tall and lean, cloaked in the same robes they always wore. Their eyes gleamed—with something older than wolves and wars.
“You’ve come,” they said, stepping aside. “At last.”
I pushed in, brushing past their robes. Rowen followed silently.
“You knew,” I said without preamble. “About the Pack Council. About the land. About me.”
The druid didn’t flinch. “Of course.”
I took a step closer. “Then why the silence?”
Their gaze drifted toward Rowen. “Because the Hollow must choose its own future. Not be told.”
“That’s bullshit,” Rowen snapped. “You watched us flail in the dark while they moved against us. You could’ve warned us.”
“I could have,” the druid agreed calmly. “But knowledge before readiness is like flame to dry kindling. It destroys more than it reveals.”
I barely contained my growl. “Tell us the truth. All of it. Now.”
The druid walked to the hearth, lighting a single taper of herb-laced wax. The smell curled instantly—fennel, sage, and something far older.
“This land,” they said, “was never meant for kings or councils. It was a place of balance—where wolves, druids, and magic coexisted. But long ago, the Pack Council twisted that balance. They propped up certain alphas. Controlled others. Set bloodlines against each other to thin the magic…dilute the power.”
I swallowed hard. “So the Hollow’s magic was intentionally suppressed.”
“They tried.” The druid looked at Rowen. “But not all lines break.” They kept their gaze on her. “Your mother’s line was bound to the land by old rites. Silent ones. Passed through daughters. Through sacrifice.”
Rowen stiffened. “My mother was never a druid.”
“No,” they said gently. “But her mother was. And her mother before her.” Their gaze sharpened. “You are legacy, Rowen. The Hollow remembers.” They gave a soft sigh. “Born at the base of the Heartwood itself, your first breath was taken at the heart of the Hollow.”
I looked at Rowen. “So it is you. The Hollow responds to you.”
The druid smiled faintly. “It should have. Until you walked in, Wolfe.”
My mouth went dry.
“The land chose you, Wolfe,” the druid continued. “Not because you took it. Because you came to guard it, to protect its daughter. The Hollow recognizes that. That is what the Pack Council fears.”
Rowen stepped forward, eyes blazing. “Then why not help us? Why stay silent?”
“Because now,” the druid said, voice quiet as mist, “you understand what’s at stake.”
I stared into the flickering candlelight. I felt it now. Old power hummed beneath my skin, restless and watching. Not from me, not from the druid—but from the land itself.
Awake.
Aware.
The candle flickered. Power stirred. Hungry.
I exhaled. “We’re prepared.”
Rowen nodded. “We’re together.”
“Together,” the druid said with a small smile, and bowed their head. “Then I am yours to command.”
Rowen and I left the tent, her hand gripping mine. She met my gaze without flinching.
“They’ll come for you,” she said, worry in her gaze.
“They already are,” I answered.
Diesel stepped from the shadows of the tent, Killian at his shoulder. Brand was close behind. All of them had heard enough.
“What’s next, Alpha?” Diesel asked.
I let the weight of the moment settle over us. The wind answered with a howl through the trees. The Stonefang wolves’ loyalty burned at my back. And beside me, my mate—steady, unyielding—stood ready to face them all.
“We don’t wait,” I said. My voice carried, low and final. “The Pack Council thinks they can decide who leads and who bleeds.” I shook my head. “They think by denouncing me, they claim Blueridge Hollow back under their control.”
Killian’s jaw clenched. “They’re wrong.”
“They’re dead wrong,” I said. “From this moment forward—this is not defense. This is not patience.”
I looked at Rowen, who nodded once.
“This is war.”