Chapter 30 Wolfe
Wolfe
The moment Rowen stepped away to organize the vulnerable, the air shifted.
Not magic—danger. A pressure tightening across my spine, every hair on my arms rising in warning.
Killian came sprinting across the clearing, dirt smeared across his forearms, chest heaving. “Eastern ridge,” he called. “Movement. A lot of it.”
Diesel cursed. “Not scouts. Not this time.”
No, this time they weren’t testing us. They were coming. Part of me was glad it was finally happening. I’d never been a fan of waiting.
“Only at the eastern?” I asked him, heading that way.
“No other sightings?” I quickly checked in with the shifters along the borders.
Cody sent back that there was no movement that he could see.
The frustration in his voice was clear; he was on the opposite side of the packlands, and in truth, I understood his frustration.
I hadn’t expected them to come from the east either. Not just the east.
Why weren’t they surrounding us? I would, if I were them.
“Just the east,” I confirmed to Diesel and Killian.
“So far.” I hesitated. “Nothing changes,” I told them.
“Positions!” I barked. My voice cracked across the clearing like a whip, resonating through the mindlink, and every wolf in the Hollow snapped into motion.
Shifters poured from the tree line, the shelters, and patrol routes.
The ground vibrated beneath the stampede of paws and boots, wolves shifting mid-stride, prepared to defend our pack and our home.
“It’s happening,” I told her through the mindlink. “I know you won’t listen, but please, please, for my sake and our child’s, don’t let them get to you.”
“No command to stay hidden?” she asked me, and I heard her surprise.
“Rowen, you’ve never listened to me a single day in your damned life.
” I felt a flicker of amusement and smiled briefly.
“But it’s not just you anymore, my love—you have nothing to prove to me, this pack, or anyone else.
You know this, tell me you know it.” When she said nothing, I couldn’t stop myself from pleading.
“It’s not just you fighting; if you feel you need to join the physical fight, all I ask is that you don’t be reckless. ”
Her silence was loud, and I was sure I had managed to piss her off.
“I do know that. It took me a long time.” I felt her sigh. “If they get to the Heartwood, I’ll defend it and my pack. But I won’t go seeking to join the physical fight.”
I didn’t smother my surprise quickly enough when she conceded.
“I love you,” I told her simply, knowing that no matter how many times I said it, it would never be enough.
“Three words aren’t enough to express how much I love you,” I whispered.
“I’ll see you when it’s over. Guard them well, my heart. ”
“Wolfe—" The bond surged with emotion and love, so much love. “I love you too. Come back to me.”
“That’s the plan, princess.”
I turned to Diesel, who met my gaze with his steady stare. He gave me a questioning look, and when I nodded, he clapped me on the shoulder. “Let’s go kill the bastards,” he growled.
“And scatter their bones on Stonefang so they never find rest.” My voice was full of grim resolve.
Killian nodded. “So they never find rest,” he agreed. “Grandmother will like that.”
She would.
We moved quickly to the eastern boundary.
The pack was aware of the plan: Diesel and I would leave the Hollow’s packlands, and in doing so, our boundary would be open to them.
That’s why I wasn’t pulling any more of my fighters to the eastern ridge.
Each station would hold as planned. Every patrol would keep their line.
There would be no surprise attacks. No slipping through the trees. No blind spots. Not tonight. We had to assume Axel told them everything—routes, rotations, strengths, weaknesses. We had to assume this attack was based on our stolen secrets.
By Diesel and me stepping out, we would offer them the way in.
“Straight through us.”
The air rippled with tension, the kind that crawls along your spine and tightens your jaw. Diesel’s wolf growled low beside me, sensing the same thing I did.
Footsteps, weight shifting, breath carried by the wind.
We knew they were out there. Waiting. Thinking they were hunting us, not realizing we were about to invite them in through the front door.
I wanted them close. I wanted them confident. I wanted to draw them to me, leading them to their deaths. I wanted them blind to the fact that they were already standing in their graves.
Diesel eased forward, nose into the wind, muscles tensed. The forest seemed to hold its breath. A twig snapped. A shadow moved.
I shared a look with Diesel, my tongue rolling out in a wolfish smile. “See you on the other side, brother.”
I leapt into the night, the ground rushing past me as I charged forward and collided with the first two attackers.
My pack mirrored the motion beside me, one synchronized surge—and we rushed through the forest. Then I heard the first scream as it tore through the night. Not one of my pack. The first blood wasn’t mine, and by Luna, I’d spill plenty of their blood tonight.
The ground blurred beneath me as I ran forward and slammed into the first two attackers. Bone met bone. Teeth tore flesh. Blood hit the air in hot metallic bursts. Killian was at my flank, his wolf a blur of fury. Diesel hammered into the enemy line on the opposite side, vicious and unrelenting.
The forest was dense with Pack Council wolves.
Too many to just be the soldiers of the Pack Council and their betas.
The Council had sent warriors—seasoned ones.
They’d pulled alphas and other packs into this war against us.
The first wave hit our outer line like a battering ram. Not rogues. Not desperate wolves.
These were fighters who understood formation, rhythm, and brutality. My wolf charged forward to confront them. I wanted this fight. I wanted them to feel the pain I felt. To understand the loss we’d endured. To taste the reality that this pack would not be dictated to by them.
We did not fear them.
One of their males lunged at me, snarling with fangs aimed at my throat. I rolled, using his momentum against him and threw him into the dirt, teeth clamped on the tendon behind his shoulder. He howled and went limp instantly.
Killian’s voice cracked through the mindlink. “Left flank breaking—pushing them back—need support—"
“On it.”
I pushed off the ground and charged toward the left line. Our wolves held their ground, but just barely. The Council’s fighters were disciplined, relentless, and pressed in tight formations designed to break packs weaker than ours.
They should’ve done their homework.
Diesel’s wolf tore through the enemy’s backline like a storm, scattering their formation. Killian and I hit the front at the same time, and the three of us slammed into them hard enough to break their line completely.
Wolves howled as bodies hit the ground, and my pack surged with renewed ferocity. We pushed them back in a brutal wave, step by bloody step, forcing them downhill and retreating.
I heard the howl on the night air. The Pack Council’s retreat call.
They broke.
Fast.
Running?
Killian panted beside me, his muzzle soaked in blood. Diesel spat out fur and glared down the ridge. All around me, I checked on my pack, listening for any calls for help.
Diesel shifted back to his human form. “Round one goes to us,” he growled.
“No,” I replied, my chest still heaving. “That wasn’t round one.” I watched the fleeing wolves, cold certainty settling in. “That was the Council measuring our strength.”
Diesel bristled. “Think they got their answer?”
“They’ll be back,” I said flatly. “Stronger.”
Behind us, wolves gathered—panting, wounded, furious, but still alive. Alive because we held the line.
I stepped back, wiping the blood from my mouth, and looked toward the heart of the Hollow. This wasn’t over. Not even close.
“Killian,” I said. “Sound the call.”
He was still in his wolf’s form. He looked up at me in surprise. “All warriors?”
“All warriors.”
He lifted his head and howled—a long, thunderous cry that rumbled through the Hollow like a battle drum. The pack responded, their howls rising to join his.
I smiled grimly as I heard them, knowing what the Pack Council would just have heard and realized.
They hadn’t broken us. They’d only woken us up.
Killian’s howl was still echoing when the wind shifted. Not a breeze.
A warning.
Diesel stiffened beside me, hackles rising. “You smell that?” he growled.
I did.
Reinforcements.
More wolves, and by the sounds of it, a lot of them, and they weren’t retreating.
“They circled,” Diesel snarled. “Bastards doubled back.”
That fast? No—that planned. “Positions!” I roared.
But the Council wolves were already charging through the trees—this time in formation, moving fast enough to rattle the ridge.
The next impact hit us like a landslide.
I shifted to my wolf and caught the first wolf mid-leap, jaws clamping around his throat. Warm blood sprayed across my muzzle as he went limp, but another immediately followed, teeth ripping into my shoulder. I threw him off and slammed him into the ground so hard that the dirt cracked beneath us.
To my right, Diesel fought like something wild and unhinged, tearing through wolves twice the average size, ignoring every wound, every bite. He didn’t slow down. He never slowed.
Killian’s wolf lunged into a group of three, breaking one’s leg and causing the others to scatter.
But there were more. Too many. They kept coming, wave after wave, like someone had opened a dam of wolves and aimed them at us. They pushed us back, and the Hollow trembled beneath the weight of it.
The cries for help were all around me, but all I could do was stand my ground and fight the ones coming straight for me.
A snarl tore through the mindlink—Cody. “Southern ridge, failing—need help—now!”
Diesel, I barked. “Cody needs help.”