Chapter 19
Rowen
Wolfe didn’t speak again as we headed home, and I didn’t force him to. His hand stayed locked around mine, warm and grounding, even with the scent of smoke and blood still clinging to both of us.
The path toward the house felt longer than usual. My legs were heavy, every step reminding me how we’d lost wolves today. How close the Council had come to taking more from us than the land would tolerate.
Wolfe glanced at me once, just enough for me to see the fury still simmering behind his eyes. A quiet, contained kind of rage. The worst kind.
“They hit the western line because they thought it was weak,” I said finally.
“They hit the Hollow,” he corrected. “Weak or not, they crossed a line.”
He was right. But it didn’t settle anything inside me. “I should have sensed it sooner,” I muttered. “I felt something shifting before we left for the Council and—”
Wolfe stopped walking and turned toward me. Just that—no force, no snapping, no alpha temper—and I shut up. “Don’t blame yourself. You’re far too new at this to be taking any blame,” he said, voice low. “We were gone, which is what they planned for.”
“I’m supposed to be—”
“You’re not supposed to be anything,” he cut in.
“You’re my mate. You’re you. That’s all you need to be, just you.
And you’re exhausted.” He looked around us.
“You are just coming into your own, Rowen. That doesn’t make you responsible for an ambush.
They attacked while we were both off territory.
That’s what they wanted. That’s what they planned on. ”
His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, where my pulse was unsteady. Not scared—just raw. Open. Still ringing from the Hollow’s pain.
“And the next time?” I asked. “When they come again?”
Wolfe’s jaw flexed. His body was hard and unyielding beside me. “Then we’ll be ready.”
I wanted to believe that. I did. But my chest tightened anyway. He softened, barely, but enough for me to feel it through the bond.
“Princess,” he murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing mine, “if you crumble now, I crumble with you. So you’re going to bed. And I’m going to be right beside you.”
I exhaled shakily. “You think I’m going to sleep?”
“Not a chance,” he muttered. “But you’ll lie down. You’ll breathe. You’ll let your wolf settle. And then…we figure out how to tear the whole fucking lot of them down and bury them in the ground.”
That pulled a laugh out of me. A weak one, but real.
We started walking again. The house came into view—the lights low, the windows warm. It looked peaceful. Deceivingly so. When we reached the porch, Wolfe paused with his hand on the door.
“We survived today,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Barely.”
“But we did,” he said, meeting my gaze. “And tomorrow, we survive again.”
I nodded, because anything else would break me open. Wolfe pushed the door open, guiding me inside with a hand on the small of my back.
The Hollow pulsed once beneath my feet as I crossed the threshold. Not warning this time. Acknowledgment. Wolfe noticed. Of course he did.
I looked around the living room. We had furniture again. “Who?”
Wolfe sniffed once, testing the air. “Axel…and Adair, I think.”
“I must thank them,” I said, looking away. “They’re both…okay?”
“They are. We lost a dozen, but no more.”
Twelve. Twelve pack gone for other men’s greed. “I miss my father,” I admitted in the warmth of my home. “I feel lost without him here.”
“I know.” Wolfe wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. “But we need to talk about what Lewis said.” I stiffened. “Not tonight, princess,” he assured me, stepping back. “Get in bed,” he prompted softly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
I didn’t argue, but I also didn’t do what he told me.
I needed to feel clean. In the bathroom, I stepped into the shower, letting the heat of the water wash over me.
For the first time since the attack, I allowed myself to breathe.
I let myself feel the exhaustion, anger, and relief.
I leaned into the quiet, steady hum of the bond.
We were still standing. And we’d fight again tomorrow and the next day until we won.
When I came out of the bathroom, he was already in bed with the sheet pulled up only to his waist, exposing his bare chest. He looked way too tempting. I was wearing one of his shirts and a pair of panties and felt overdressed.
“We should sleep,” I said, because it was the sensible thing, the adult thing, the thing the druid had practically ordered.
Wolfe’s eyes ran over me, and he made a low sound.
Not agreement.
Not even close.
When his eyes met mine again, there it was—the look. The one that told me he was barely holding himself together. The one that said the Pack Council hadn’t just attacked the Hollow—they’d attacked me. And that his wolf hadn’t forgiven either offense.
“Wolfe,” I warned softly. I got into bed beside him, my breath hitching as he pulled me close and leaned over me, resting on one arm, his movements quick and controlled. The way he moved always fascinated me—how someone so big could move with such grace.
His hand rose, tracing my jaw as his thumb brushed my cheekbone, like he was making sure I was still whole. “We should sleep,” he murmured. “You’re right.”
His voice didn’t match his eyes at all. Those eyes were dark, possessive, and hungry—not in a sexual way, but in a need for reassurance, with claiming, with needing to feel me alive and warm and his after the threat to our land.
“Wolfe…” My voice wavered.
“I could have lost you today.” His hand slid into my hair, his forehead coming to rest against mine. “Don’t ask me to pretend I’m fine.”
My breath caught. The bond buzzed, sharp and aching.
He wasn’t trying to start something.
He was trying to anchor himself.
“We’re okay,” I whispered, moving my hands up his chest. “We came home, and we stopped it before it got worse than it was.”
He exhaled hard, like he’d been holding it in for hours, and wrapped both arms around me, pulling me close. Not gentle. Not rough. Just complete.
“We’re not sleeping yet,” he said against my hair. “Not until I feel you settle.”
I could have argued and told him I was fine or that I was exhausted.
But my legs were still trembling from fear and adrenaline from the day.
His wolf, like mine, was pacing under his skin—frantic and protective—and I reached for him without hesitation.
We needed each other tonight—not for pleasure, but to stay grounded.
“For five minutes,” I murmured.
He let out a humorless laugh. “Liar.” His lips grazed my shoulder, my collarbone—the spot where my pulse pounded strongest—caging me with his warmth.
Not seducing, and not claiming. Reassuring. Reminding himself that I was still here.
“You almost ran into that fire,” he said quietly. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
“I knew it was wrong,” I whispered. “I felt it. The Hollow—”
“I know what you felt.” His voice was rough. “I felt you feel it.” His fingers threaded through mine, squeezing once, hard. “No sleeping yet,” he said again, softer this time. “Just…stay with me.”
I turned toward him. “I’m right here.”
We didn’t sleep. But we lay together in the dark, wrapped around each other while the Hollow hummed faintly beneath the floorboards, and for the first time since the attack, everything inside me loosened. His breathing finally eased. The bond settled.
His lips found mine, and I opened for him. Tasting him. Allowing him to taste the truth of me—exhaustion, fear, fury, relief—everything I’d been holding back since the moment we saw smoke rising over the Hollow.
Wolfe pulled back. “Sleep,” he murmured.
But I wanted more. I wanted more than just reassurance that he was beside me; I wanted him.
I pulled him down for a kiss. Wolfe kissed me deeply, his mouth moving with slow urgency over mine, and I could feel the need beneath his kiss—the barely restrained wild need to make sure I was safe, that I was his.
His tongue stroked mine as he rolled me onto my back, settling between my legs, his mouth never losing contact with mine, his hand skimming down my side, caressing my stomach and then dipping between my legs to run his fingers over the cotton of my underwear.
The T-shirt was removed with one swipe of his claws.
Wolfe moved his mouth from my lips, along my jawline, kissing down my neck to my breasts before his mouth captured the swollen peak of my nipple in his mouth.
He licked and sucked my breasts until I was squirming for more.
His hand slipped beneath my panties, deft fingers stroked through my wetness, and I couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure as my mate touched me.
“So wet, princess,” he murmured, moving down my body, laying soft worshipful kisses along my abdomen, and then he was on his knees, pulling my underwear over my hips, down my thighs before he settled in between them and took a long, slow lick of my pussy.
He licked again, his mouth becoming increasingly urgent as my hips rose to meet every dip and swirl of his tongue.
“Wolfe…”
He knew I was close. Two fingers pushed inside me, curled just right, and started to move in sync with my hips. My fingers dug into his hair, pushing him in further, craving the release, needing something good to drown out the horrible aftermath of today.
He sucked my clit hard, and I screamed out my release, my hips bucking against his face as he licked me through the aftershocks. My breathing was ragged, my knees were weak, but I needed more. I needed him.
“Inside,” I demanded, my hand wrapping around his length to guide him, not hiding my desperate need to feel him where I needed him most. “I need you inside.”
Wolfe slid into me in one thrust, causing my back to arch off the bed as he seated himself inside me. His hands moved under me, lifting my ass off the bed, and I widened my legs to take more of him. Feel more of him.
“I want all of it,” I mumbled through my groans.
“You’ll take it all, princess,” he whispered against my skin. “Roll over,” he commanded gruffly.
I rolled onto my stomach. He was already pulling my hips up to meet him, moving back inside me, filling me.
My groan of appreciation at being so full filled the room.
My hands clenched the blanket as he drove into me, his rhythm punishing but perfect.
His hand threaded into my hair, wrapping it around his fist, pulling my head back, while his other hand dug into my hip.
“You take me so fucking well, princess.”
“I need…”
His hips moved at a relentless pace, and I could feel my orgasm approaching—just one more. His fingers rubbed at my clit, and my body erupted in ecstasy. My head was on the mattress, fingers digging into the mattress as my mate thrust once again inside me, then yelled out his own climax.
Wolfe dropped his head between my shoulder blades. “Fuck.”
I giggled, feeling him pull away and leaving me empty. “No…” I mewled, needy and desperate.
“I know, mate, I’m not finished yet,” he promised as he rolled me over.
Sleep would come later.
Wolfe would let it. Eventually.
The Hollow still felt off the next morning.
Not dangerous or hostile. Just…unsettled. Like the land itself hadn’t slept either.
When Wolfe and I stepped out of the house, the air was thick with whispers. Pack gathered in tight groups across the clearing—whispering, pacing, snapping at each other over nothing. Fear coursed through them like a cold current.
They looked at me, and it wasn’t with panic. It was worse. It was doubt.
Killian spotted us and came over immediately, jaw tense. “They’re rattled,” he said without preamble. “More than rattled. They’re shaken to the core.”
Wolfe’s posture stayed relaxed. I could sense the pack’s eyes on us—searching, assessing, needing.
“They’re getting too used to an attack like this,” Killian continued. “They shouldn’t be. Some of the younger wolves couldn’t sleep. A few keep asking if we should go to Stonefang and give them what they want.”
Wolfe growled low in his throat. “We’re not running.”
“I know,” Killian said. “But they need to hear it from more than me.”
I felt Wolfe’s hand find mine automatically, but this time, it wasn’t him grounding me—it was me steadying him. He hated seeing his pack afraid. Hated it viscerally. Like it was a personal failure.
I stepped forward. There were at least forty wolves gathered now. Some still looked injured, as if they hadn’t the strength to heal themselves. Some were exhausted, and others stared at the burn marks that still scarred the land.
They were agitated—hands twitching, footsteps restless, breaths too shallow.
“Rowen,” Wolfe murmured, his voice low. “I’ve got this—”
“So do I,” I cut in.
I walked into the center of the clearing, feeling every gaze sharpen. My stomach twisted, but the mate bond steadied me. “Look at me,” I said, not yelling, not commanding—just firm.
Silence washed over the pack.
“The Council attacked us because they’re scared,” I said plainly.
“Not because we’re weak.” A few wolves flinched at the word attacked.
I pressed on. “They wanted to shake us. They wanted us to doubt ourselves. They wanted you to fear what’s coming.
They struck at you when your alpha was not here, like cowards.
” I lifted my chin, letting my wolf bleed into my eyes just enough for them to glow. “But you’re still standing.”
A few wolves shifted their weight, listening more closely.
“You defended your home,” I said. “You protected each other. And you watched the Hollow itself rise for us.” The ground pulsed faintly beneath my feet—as if agreeing. “We are not the ones who should be afraid right now.” I let the words hang, measured and confident. “They are.”
Killian murmured his approval. Diesel crossed his arms, smirking. Wolfe moved closer behind me, not overshadowing—just providing support.
I took a breath. “We rebuild today,” I told them, voice steady. “We repair what they broke. We reinforce the ridges. We stand beside each other. And when the Council comes again”—I let my gaze sweep the clearing—“we greet them with teeth. Again.”
The ones gathered looked at each other, nodding, murmuring that I was right, feeding each other strength, and taking support from each other.
Wolfe’s hand rested on my shoulder. “That’s my mate,” he murmured.
But I could barely hear him over the pack’s voices, loud enough now to make the trees shiver.
The Hollow pulsed again—this time warm and approving. And for the first time since the smoke rose over the ridge, the pack stood a little taller.
We weren’t healed. We weren’t ready.
But we weren’t broken either.