Chapter 12
Wolfe
The moment it shifted, I felt it.
Not as a scent. Not as a sound. Not even as magic.
Just pressure.
A cold fingertip pressed to the back of my skull. Pushing, waiting to see what I’d do. Cody moved closer, his body on alert, his eyes on everything around us. Even the air changed—too still, too tight—like Stonefang itself waited for them to reveal themselves.
“Alpha?” Cody murmured.
Nothing moved. The pack was talking amongst themselves; no one but me and Cody was reacting. Well, other than the Grumps, but I doubted even their shelter burning around them would get them to leave.
The presence was still here. Lingering. Watching. Weighing and measuring, and I didn’t fucking like it. My head tilted towards the north. I felt it sharpen, and I turned fully to face it.
“Alpha?” Cody muttered again.
“Don’t speak,” I told him softly. Because I needed to listen.
To everything. All around me. I filtered through my pack’s murmurs, their grumbles, their relief that I was back.
My ears pricked as I listened, filtered what they said, heard what they weren’t saying.
Packed away things I’d need to address later but not now.
There.
My wolf surged forward, teeth bared, claws flexing under my skin. The heartbeat I heard wasn’t mine. Not Cody’s. Not anyone else who was near.
Something else. Something light. Something deliberate. Something far too close. I stepped forward once, letting the weight of my authority roll across the clearing. Stonefang wolves tensed, some coming to a stop to watch me, some pressing closer to pack who stood near them as instinct took over.
It slid sideways. A ripple along the ground that felt like a shiver or a shadow slipping behind a rock.
Cody swallowed hard. “Wolfe? What the fuck is it?”
“Stay here,” I told him. “Stay alert.”
Thalia had moved closer, her eyes widening as I spoke. “What’s happening?”
My gaze flicked to the shelter where the Grumps were. Grandmother was gone from the window. “It’s watching me.”
“Seems to be,” Grandfather murmured, sounding distracted.
I felt the jerk on the bond, and I shifted to my wolf, racing forward, not hearing anything other than the pulse of the bond as my mate’s fear echoed through the connection.
The presence wasn’t probing my territory lines. It wasn’t assessing Stonefang. It was assessing me. It was assessing her. And that, I would not stand for.
I ran towards where it lingered, across the ground my pack called home, I ran north, away from the Hollow, away from the Grumps, and towards an unknown that I would hunt, find, and kill if I had to.
I ran for hours.
The soil turned dry first—powder-fine dust that rose up in pale clouds each time my claws struck it. Then the ground began to tilt, sloping upward into a broken spine of stone where nothing rooted deep enough to survive.
Stonefang’s lands weren’t just barren; they were scarred.
Massive slabs of rock jutted out of the earth like broken bones piercing the skin.
Jagged ridges cut across the terrain in snarling waves, sharp enough to injure a wolf’s paw if you misstep.
Ridges of blackened rock rose and fell across the land like the ribs of some ancient, long-dead beast.
This is why much of my land was uninhabitable.
No grass. No brush. No soil soft enough to grow anything or even bury the dead.
Just wind howling through narrow cracks in the stone, and shadows that weren’t truly shadows but just the absence of light in places the sun couldn’t reach.
Most wolves avoided this part of my territory unless they had no choice.
Stone and fangs, that’s all that survived here.
This wasn’t land meant for living. It was land meant for warning, and whatever I was following had chosen to wait right in the heart of it. The land here didn’t look dead. It looked undisturbed—as if nothing had dared touch it in centuries.
Here was Stonefang before wolves. Stonefang before packs. Stonefang before names.
Ancient.
Untamed.
Unowned.
The presence fit here, like it belonged, and it made my skin crawl. The presence had come here by choice, and so had I.
I slowed to a trot, then a casual walk. My wolf was big and strong, and I wasn’t afraid. I looked around and then shifted back to my human form, not giving a fuck I was naked.
I took another step, my voice dropping into a growl. “Show yourself.” Nothing. “I said, show yourself.”
The land remained quiet. Still.
The presence…mocking.
My wolf snarled, pacing inside me, desperate to tear into anything that dared come this deep into my land—challenging me to run from it. A faint whisper brushed past my ear, and I stilled. Not a voice. Not breath. Just…attention.
The presence moved closer again, a few meters to the left, weightless but purposeful. It wasn’t advancing or retreating. It was circling. But it wasn’t threatening, and that surprised me. Nor was it scared.
Worse than that…it was curious. Curiosity meant intelligence, and under the innocence of that lay cleverness, cunning…purpose.
Something brushed across my senses again—softly gliding over the bond between me and my land. Old. Rooted. Druidic.
Not the one I knew.
I stepped forward again, bare-handed, bare-chested, daring it. “You picked the wrong shifter to fuck with,” I said softly.
The presence paused. Then—it pushed back. Not physically, not magically. Just…pressed its awareness against mine. Testing. Prodding. Seeing what I would do.
My wolf lunged forward, snarling low in its chest, and for a moment—just a heartbeat—I felt the Hollow behind me like a tidal wave, its ancient pulse pounding through my veins.
The presence staggered. Not literally. Not visibly.
But I felt it shudder, pulling back an inch, giving ground as if something had just hissed in its ear.
The Hollow could sense my son. It could sense Rowen. It could sense my fury, and it despised whatever this was as much as I did. I felt the unknown presence soften and yield, and I finally understood what it was doing.
It wasn’t attacking. It wasn’t curious. It was seeking. It had followed the Hollow’s tether directly to me.
Shaman.
I reverted to my human form. My anger eased a bit. “Show yourself, old one.”
Shamans were few. Old ones. Ones who communed directly with the Goddess.
Her vessels on this earth. Skeptics pretended they were harmless old men with potions and herbs, forgetting they were ancients.
Those who walked the lands long before there were packs.
Ones who could unmake an alpha without touching him.
“Why follow me?” I asked, turning softly and speaking into the air.
Another ripple. Another shift in the air. I felt it coming closer now. Too close, but I did not fear it. I remembered what the Grandparents had said. I was bonded to Rowen, and she was linked to the Hollow.
And the Hollow was awake.
“You will not harm her,” I told it.
The presence hesitated, and I felt it step back. Not far.
“Soon.”
I stiffened as I understood the faint message. Soon? What was soon?
And then it vanished. Completely. The air snapped back into place.
I drew in a breath as if I’d been drowning. I turned and looked over my shoulder, back across the land I had traveled over. “It’s moved,” I told the air. I swallowed hard. “You’ve gone back.”
I shifted. My shift was always fast, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel the bones crack. Pain as fur tore through my skin. My wolf hit the ground with a snarl, teeth bared, anger simmering as I ran straight back toward my mate.
Not to her, not directly.
To the land. I felt it as I ran. Stonefang pulsed beneath my paws, anticipation and awareness curling up my legs into my chest, into my heart. The ground trembled beneath me, faint but real, echoing through the earth, and the ancient heartbeat of the land flowed through my veins.
I ran quickly over land I once thought was no longer my home. I was mistaken, and it reminded me with every beat of my paws on the ground. As I approached the packlands, I could feel them waiting.
Grandmother’s whisper was loud in my skull, sensing everything the closer I got. “It wants to see what the Hollow will choose.”
“Before it picks a side?” I demanded.
“No sides. Not for this one.” Grandfather sounded certain.
“So we’re entertainment?” I growled.
The shelters appeared on the horizon, and I felt the tremor in the distance, faint but genuine.
“She is vulnerable,” Grandmother warned me.
I didn’t wait another second as Cody and Thalia stood there, waiting for me. I shifted to my human form. “Thalia. Cody. Get the pack secured. Now. Anyone not coming with us stays here, with the condition that no one leaves the shelters. No one goes to the borders. No one wanders.”
“Already done,” Cody told me. “The Grumps and ten others. Mostly children.”
I looked past him and met Darla’s gaze. She was on the top step of her shelter, holding her youngest in her arms. “You sure?”
She nodded. “The children will be safer here. Their routine is here, schooling, training, I have it handled.”
I didn’t like it, but I understood, and I needed some of the pack to stay and care for the Grumps. I shared a look with Cody, and he sighed.
“Babe, you need to stay.”
Thalia instantly bristled, ready to fight, but Cody placed his hand over her abdomen. “You need to stay here,” he said, pulling her closer. “Keep them safe.”
Thalia looked at me with guilt in her eyes. “Alpha…”
“You haven’t let me down,” I assured her quickly. “Could I use your fight? Yes, I could. But you need to listen to your husband, just this once.”
Thalia looked away, tears streaming down her face. “I wasn’t even sure,” she whispered to Cody, and I moved away to give them a moment.
“When are you going to tell Cody he’s like you?” I asked the Grumps.
“He knows,” Grandmother answered. “He’s in denial. Thinks he’s a hot fighter.”
“He is,” I confirmed. “But you need to tell him, because there’s a druid at the Hollow who sees too much. He’s already taken my mate as his apprentice,” I warned them.
“He won’t take my Cody,” Grandfather harrumphed. “Blood runs deeper. Diesel will look after him. Might bring that one to his senses.”
I wasn’t touching that at all. I turned when I felt the pull on my hand. I looked down at Lake.
“Can I come with you?” he asked me, but the answer was already in his eyes.
“Leave the little one,” Grandmother told me firmly.
“You’ll be safer here,” I told him, bending down to pick him up. “Thalia needs help. Can I trust you to help her?”
Lake looked over to where Cody and Thalia were locked in an embrace. “She’s still mad at me.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, you messed up,” I told him. He was just a boy, I reminded myself. I sighed. “I’d like it if you looked after her while I was away.”
Lake looked up at me and slowly nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and I held on a little too tightly before setting him down on the ground. “Behave. Do what Darla and Thalia tell you to.” I ruffled his hair. “I’ll see you soon.”
I ducked into the Grumps’ house and gave them both a hug goodbye. “Any words of advice?”
“Stay alive, Wolfe,” Grandmother murmured. “Don’t make me angry.”
“If you die, she’ll be angry,” Grandfather agreed with a nod.
“That’ll make three of us,” I told him, tapping him on the shoulder. “Right?”
“Meh.”
Grinning, I left their home, and with the pack gathered, we shifted and started to run.
At the border, I stayed back and let my pack cross first before I followed; the seal of protection slipped into place over Stonefang, and I exhaled.
One part of my pack was safe, and now I had to do the same for the other part.
We ran straight toward the Hollow. Right toward whatever was waiting for me. We didn’t hide our progress. Let them see my pack crossing the mountain, let them watch. Let them know we were coming.
Rowen and Killian waited at the border, a patrol behind them, alert and ready.
I shifted as soon as I saw her standing there.
She rushed forward and threw herself into my arms. I pulled her close without hesitation, breathing her in as if it had been longer than a few days since I’d last seen her.
Her scent hit me—warm, sharp, alive—and the tension I’d been holding since Stonefang snapped and bled out through my muscles.
She was shaking. So was I. “You felt it,” she whispered against my chest.
“Of course I did.” My voice was rough. “It followed me.”
Rowen shook her head, jaw tight. “No. It moved ahead of you.”
I looked down at her abruptly. “What?”
Rowen swallowed. Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t look away. “The Hollow reacted. So did I.”
I curled my hand protectively around the back of her neck, pulling her close. “I won’t let anything touch you.”
Killian’s gaze flicked toward the mountains behind me. “What was it, Wolfe?”
I hesitated just a heartbeat, then looked between him and Rowen. I glanced past both of them to Diesel, who stood tense in the shadows.
“A shaman,” I said quietly. “An old one.”
Rowen’s breath hitched. Killian swore. Diesel went still.
“It didn’t attack,” I added. “It measured. Watched. Moved like it had all the time in the world.”
Rowen’s fingers dug into my arm. “Why?”
I cupped her jaw, forcing her to look at me and keeping my voice steady as my wolf raged inside.
“Because they declared war.” I pressed my forehead to hers.
“Because the Hollow chose us.” My voice dropped even lower.
“And because whoever that thing is, it knows we’re the ones standing between the Pack Council and this land. ”
“How did it feel?” Diesel asked, and when I looked at him, he didn’t seem surprised by my answer.
“Curious.”
He exchanged a glance with Rowen, and she nodded. “Anticipatory…” she murmured. Then she looked back at me. “I missed you.”
I kissed her fiercely, grounding both of us. “I missed you,” I echoed against her lips. “I’ll show you how much later,” I promised. I stepped back and looked at Diesel and Killian. “Where are we at?”
Killian began to tell me what I’d missed, which was little, but I was glad the pack hadn’t been inactive. As we walked among the trees, my mate’s hand in mine, my betas nearby, and the Hollow welcoming me back, I felt a faint stirring.
I looked up at the ridge, to the stone where nothing grew—and I felt a shaman smile.