Chapter 22
Wolfe
“Who the fuck is this?”
I winced at the bluntness of Diesel’s question. “I’m guessing you don’t recognize them, then?” I asked dryly, hearing Killian cough to cover his chuckle.
All our fighters were behind me, spread out through the trees, watching the approaching pack, all of us ready to fight.
Diesel pointed to the back of the approaching pack. “See the size of that fucker?” he said under his breath. “There’s more than that one.” He started pointing to others in the approaching pack that were larger than average but trying to blend into the rest of their pack.
Killian peered at them. “Where’s Brand when you need him?
” he asked, even though we knew Brand was at Four Winds.
They’d secured their alliance, but the alpha had still lost a son, even one as useless as Tyler.
They were grieving, and Brand, being the diplomat he was, was observing the rites with them.
“Why don’t you know them?” I asked Diesel waspishly. “You’re older than dirt.”
I flinched as his fist connected with my ribs. “I’m six years older than you, dick.”
“Alpha?”
I turned and saw an older shifter of Blueridge squinting down at the pack that approached. “I might be mistaken, but it looks like Emberfell Pack.”
“I know that pack,” I muttered. “Why do I know that pack?”
“One of the suitors who came here to win Rowen—”
My growl cut them off. My wife and the word win shouldn’t be in the same sentence. “Dax? Was that his name?”
“Dex,” Killian corrected with a smirk. “She liked him the best, I think.”
“Keep your thoughts to yourself,” I told him with a glare. I turned back to the shifter who’d spoken. “Emberfell? Friend or foe?”
He considered it. “They are small—”
“That doesn’t look small to me,” Diesel cut in. “Does that look small to anyone else?”
“If I may…” the shifter continued. “That seems to be everyone in their pack.”
Killian disrobed and shifted into his wolf, taking a step forward. He assessed the oncoming pack. “He’s right. Not only are the larger males spread out, but there are also smaller wolves there. Children?”
“You feeling inquisitive?” I asked him.
Killian walked out of the tree line and made his way down the slope. He shifted form and while he pulled on the shorts, we watched a larger wolf from the advancing pack do the same. They met in the middle.
“Am I open to you?” Killian asked.
“I’ll tell you when he speaks,” I assured him.
We realized I could hear what my pack heard if they opened their minds to me.
Of course, Killian was the first to try it, and the ease with which he let me in didn’t surprise me.
What did surprise me was that some others weren’t as receptive.
Not that they wanted to keep me out; they just didn’t view me with the same level of trust as my beta did.
A fact both frustrating and humbling.
“Alpha Wolfe?” the male asked Killian.
“I can hear.”
“Killian,” Killian told him. “I’m his beta.”
The shifter looked past my beta and scanned the tree line. “Ivan. Beta also.”
Killian nodded. “Beta to which alpha?”
From here, I could see him fold his arms, and I didn’t have to see his face to know he would look like he was carved from granite.
“The boundary keeps them out,” Diesel muttered. “Also keeps you and me in.”
I nodded in agreement. I wanted to be down there, listening properly, not hearing it through the mindlink.
The other shifter turned and gestured to his pack. “This is Emberfell, my alpha is Jaxson.”
“Why are you here?” Killian asked in his perfectly blunt way.
“We seek refuge.”
“Report on all movements,” I sent to the rest of the pack, who were still patrolling the other boundaries.
When I heard all the “all clears,” I left the tree line.
I heard Diesel mutter, and then he was walking beside me.
I felt the boundary spell drop as we crossed, and as I walked down, two other Emberfell wolves broke from the pack and shifted.
I recognized the male who had been here. The older male with him was too young to be his father. He must be his brother.
We got to Killian and Ivan at the same time.
“Wolfe,” Dex greeted.
“Who are you?” Diesel growled.
The brother looked Diesel over carefully. “This is my brother Dex. He has spent time in this pack.” The male looked at me. “I am Jaxson, Alpha of Emberfell Pack.”
“Your father passed?” I asked.
Jaxson failed to hide his surprise that I knew his rise was recent, and he shook his head. “He stepped down.”
“No challenge?” Diesel asked suspiciously.
Jaxson shook his head again. “No. We don’t do that in my pack. Father knew it was time, and I was ready.”
“Why are you here?” I echoed Killian’s bluntness.
“We seek refuge,” Jaxson said with the same simplicity as his beta. “We’ve been attacked by rogues for many months; we’ve lost many. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
“You could fight?” Killian challenged.
“Our pack is small,” Dex said. “They’re not all ours.”
I looked over to the gathering of the shifters in front of me. “Where are the other alphas?”
“They were led by pack leaders,” Jaxson explained. “They’re lost.”
“Rogue attacks, you say?” Diesel asked. “Where? How recent?”
“Three territories to the south, the most recent one was last week,” Jaxson informed us.
He was a tallish male. Sandy blond hair, clean-shaven, neat.
Everything about him was…clean. “We don’t plan to stay,” he told me.
“But we heard you’re fighting, and we think the enemy we believed we had might actually be the enemy you have. ”
Killian glanced at me, then back at Jaxson. “What does that mean?” His attention was on Dex. “You were at the Pack Council when we were there.”
Dex nodded. “I was. Jaxson asked me to go and ask for help. But when I saw what shitshow you were put through, I changed my mind and made my way back home.”
“So you were on the road when the Pack Council patrols were?” Diesel asked, voice dangerously low.
Dex held his hands up. “Hey, I was on a different road, going a different way.”
“It was my brother who convinced me to leave Emberfell and come and talk to you,” Jaxson said with more force than he’d shown previously.
“From what he saw at the Pack Council, and what you were told, and the pattern of attacks.” Jaxson held my stare.
“They’re clearing all the territories here. I just don’t know why.”
“I don’t trust you,” Killian said with a hard glare at Dex.
“I don’t need you to trust me,” the other shifter said calmly. “I’ll leave if you want, but my pack needs protection, and you’re the only territory I trust enough to kick the Pack Council’s ass.” He looked at his brother. “Emberfell can help you.”
“Don’t do it,” Diesel warned.
“You think they lie?”
“No. I just don’t fucking like them. They smell shifty.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Not helping.”
“Killian? Thoughts?” I asked my more sensible beta.
“They smell of fear and exhaustion. Pretty sure we do too. I sense no ill will from them.”
“Your father is still alive?” I asked the other alpha, when he nodded, I looked past him to the shifters behind him. “Where is he?”
“Emberfell,” Jaxson responded smoothly. “He is old and was ready to step down, but he, my older brother, and some of my father’s betas stayed behind to guard what’s left of our territory.
Our hope is that they are small enough not to attract attention but large enough to defend it should they come back.
We took the majority of the pack with us… just in case we’re wrong.”
“I believe them,” Killian said to me, and I nodded. I did too. It made sense, and it was what I would have done.
“You cannot come into the Hollow,” I told Jaxson. “Not all at once. But…we can house some of you. Do you have children with you?”
“Have you learned nothing from the other children who were spies?” Diesel growled.
“I will not turn a hungry child away.”
“We may as well lie down and give up now,” he grunted, then turned and walked back up the hill to the Hollow.
I ignored him. He expected me to.
“You stay out here,” I told Dex. “You will be watched,” I told Jaxson. “But I think we could pool our resources, have our betas exchange information, see what we come up with.”
Jaxson bowed his head in relief. “Thank you.” He turned to his brother. “I—”
“I like perimeter runs,” Dex said. “You know this.”
Jaxson smiled with relief and gratitude that his brother wasn’t kicking up a fuss. “I do.”
“Okay.” I hoped I didn’t regret this. “Welcome to Blueridge Hollow.”
Jaxson lifted two fingers and flicked them toward his pack. A quiet signal. The kind of signal a seasoned alpha used when he didn’t want panic.
The Emberfell wolves moved as one—tired but disciplined. Not stumbling. Not chaotic. Just…drained. It seemed they’d been running for too long and hoping too hard. I understood that feeling more than I liked.
“Killian,” I said without looking at him, “pair them off. No one enters the Hollow proper without being cleared. Children and elders first. Healthy fighters stay outside the barrier until later.”
Killian nodded once and shifted instantly, heading back toward the tree line where the rest of our pack waited. His wolf, sleek and swift, cut through the clearing like a blade.
Diesel was still ahead of him and didn’t slow. He stalked toward the ridge with all the grace of a pissed-off storm cloud.
“He’s friendly,” Jaxson murmured dryly.
“No,” I corrected, “he’s Diesel.”
The man grunted like that explained everything.
We led them toward the lower crossing, where the slope curved down into a natural funnel of rock and dirt—the safest place to bring outsiders without exposing the heart of the Hollow.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, thin and cold, catching some of the damage caused by the earlier fires.
Behind me, I heard quiet footsteps—small ones. A child. A boy with amber eyes and soot in his hair walked beside an older female, clutching her sleeve but trying very hard to look brave. He reminded me painfully of Lake.
Wolves shifted along the upper ridge, forming a silent perimeter. Their eyes followed every new movement. My pack held their ground, but I felt the tension running through them like a taut wire.
They trusted me. They didn’t trust this.
“Your pack will want to know where we sleep,” Jaxson said.
“They’ll want to know you’re not spies first,” I replied flatly.
He accepted that with a tight nod. “Fair.”
We approached the boundary line—Diesel standing there, arms folded, waiting. I couldn’t cross, not if I was letting any of Emberfell into the Hollow.
“Stop here,” I ordered.
The Emberfell wolves halted as one. Children clung to adults. A few of the larger males shifted their stance protectively. Their wolves weren’t aggressive—just alert. Waiting. Preparing for the worst while hoping for the best.
The druid stepped through the brush then, robes trailing pine needles and smoke. Their gaze swept over the newcomers, unreadable and sharp.
“Refugees,” they said. Not a question.
“Rogue attacks,” I said. “Multiple losses.”
The druid hummed, crouching to press their palm into the dirt. I didn’t know what the ground responded, but they looked up at me. “Let the young through,” the druid murmured. “And the oldest. Slowly. One by one.”
I nodded and gestured. “Killian, escort.”
Killian returned in his human form, took one look at the size of Emberfell’s group, and turned to Diesel, who stared impassively back at him. Killian muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience.
He took a step out. “All of your young need to shift into their human form, if they aren’t already.” The first few children hurried past me and into the Hollow, where my pack waited. A few pregnant females followed before the older shifters in the pack.
The elderly followed, and a female bowed her head to me. “Thank you, Alpha Wolfe.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. I wasn’t being cruel, just honest.
I felt Jaxson’s gaze on me—measuring, assessing. “You’re doing more for us than Malric ever would,” he said quietly.
“That’s because I’m not Malric.”
“And that’s exactly why we came.” He looked through the trees, scanning the perimeter. “We need new alliances, not old grievances.”
Was he making reference to the rogue attacks that Malric may have been coordinating for years? I didn’t know whether to be relieved or suspicious. Probably both.
Behind me, Diesel’s distant growl echoed across the ridge.
Killian slid me a look. “He hates this.”
“He hates everything,” I sent back.
But truthfully? Diesel was right to be wary. Something about Emberfell’s timing didn’t sit well. Something about their story felt clean. Too clean. But something else tugged at me—something darker. They smelled like wolves who had run from the same kind of enemy we had just fought.
Jaxson bowed his head as the final elder walked past. “We’ll earn our keep,” he said. “Just give us a chance.”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I looked up at the sky.
Thin light. No warmth. The kind of day before a storm.
My gut twisted with a truth I didn’t want to voice.
This wasn’t mercy. This was preparation.
I was letting them in to use them in the fight going forward.
Because if Emberfell’s enemy and ours were the same, then the Council wasn’t just clearing territories.
They were amassing silence. And silence was worse than a battlefield.
Diesel’s head snapped back, and he stared up at the sky. “For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled, and then he was striding away, anger in his step.
“What the hell?” Killian asked.
“Sometimes it’s better not to ask,” I told him, but my gaze flicked back to where my beta was heading. The Heartwood? I hesitated. He could deal with whatever it was that had pissed him off this time.
“Get your pack settled outside the boundary,” I said finally. “If you’re ready, come in and we can talk.”
Jaxson nodded once, he sent a few orders to Dex and the other older male behind him, and then he stepped onto the Hollow’s ground, and the air shifted—as if something unseen had just taken interest. I didn’t look toward the ridge.
The presence watching us wasn’t Pack Council, but I wasn’t all that sure it was friendly.