Chapter 22
Rowen
“Are you sure this is wise?”
I looked across at Wolfe and didn’t feel too enthused when he gave me his familiar smirk.
“I mean…don’t we need, you know, proof?” I pressed him.
We’d walked across the Hollow, not saying much. Wolfe walked beside me in silence, his energy tight, sharp. My father’s notes tucked under his arm now felt like the least dangerous thing he could be carrying.
It wasn’t proof Wolfe was looking for. It was leverage.
“They’re going to deny it,” I muttered.
The tic in Wolfe’s jaw twitched. “They won’t. That kind of power doesn’t waste breath on denial.”
Was he right? I didn’t know.
Galvin hadn’t needed to lie—because in his mind, he was still playing the long game. Still the quiet architect behind the dead wolves and broken borders. But what Galvin hadn’t seen—what he refused to see—was that Wolfe wasn’t my father.
He didn’t build systems. He tore them apart.
Just before we met the turn that would lead us to the druid’s tent, Diesel was waiting—eyes narrowed, stance tense.
He didn’t look at me, his attention was on his alpha alone.
The bond between Wolfe and me pulsed. Wolfe sent a surge of warmth through it, when he felt me brace myself for an encounter with Diesel.
“What is it?” Wolfe asked his beta.
“Attack,” Diesel said. “Another one. North ridge.”
“Casualties?”
“How is that possible?” I asked at the same time. “I thought the territory was bound?”
Diesel glanced at me, then back at Wolfe. “One.” A pause. “Young. But he didn’t get a good look. Said they came from behind the tree line. Fast. Precise. No scent markers.”
“That’s not random. That’s trained.” Wolfe swore under his breath. All the while, Diesel’s gaze stayed steady on his alpha, ignoring my question.
Asshole.
Wolfe fell silent, but I felt the sharp edge of his focus spike. “Are they stable?” I asked.
“Shaky, but talking.” Diesel was giving Wolfe a look that, if I didn’t know better, looked like he wanted to punch him. “He’s already shifted and healed.”
“And how did they cross the boundary?” I asked again, looking between them both. “Wolfe? What am I missing?”
Diesel cleared his throat when Wolfe said nothing. “He said something weird.”
I pounced on him. “What?” I demanded. “What did he say?”
Diesel hesitated, his gaze flicking to Wolfe, and then muttered under his breath. “He said they moved like pack. Not like rogues. Too coordinated.”
“That’s not weird,” I said flatly. “That’s confirmation.” I turned to Wolfe and grabbed his arm. “That’s what we want, right?” I frowned at him. “Are you okay?”
He looked down, his head already shaking back and forth. “Rowen…”
“What?” I wanted to head to the pack hall and see the shifter who was attacked. “Don’t you want to talk to them?”
“I do,” Wolfe confirmed. “Rowen, the barrier is still in place.”
Well, that couldn’t be right. I looked at Diesel with a frown. “No, you must have missed a bit.” I looked between them. “Did you leave?” I asked Diesel. “Have you taken Solana and her family to Stonefang? Maybe the barrier spell was a one-time only thing.”
Diesel gave his alpha a flat look before he turned back to me. “The attack came from inside the boundary,” he told me bluntly.
I took a step back. “What? That’s…that’s not possible.” I blinked rapidly. “You mean my pack?”
“Or we trapped them in,” Wolfe spoke quietly, his eyes distant as he looked to the mountain peak that rose above us. “They could have already been here.”
“Yes!” I grabbed onto that rather than the thought of my pack attacking within. Despite everything, that would make the betrayal too real. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets to stop myself from reaching for Wolfe as my head took over my heart. “But…wouldn’t you feel them? Strangers?”
Diesel shook his head. “Most of the folk here are strangers to me,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t know if they were friend or foe.”
I turned to Wolfe. “Wolfe?”
He didn’t answer and I went to move forward, but Diesel reached out gently and held me back. “Careful,” he murmured, pulling us both back.
“Why?” I whispered, looking at Wolfe, really looking at him.
His eyes weren’t on us. Not really. Not the houses, not the trees. His body was locked in place—shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides, chest barely moving as he breathed. Like a statue poised to break. Not by outside force—but from pressure within.
Like he was getting ready to run.
Or fight.
“Diesel?” I asked quietly, my voice catching.
Killian came flying down the path, his boots skidding in the dirt. He didn’t look at me. His focus was entirely on Wolfe.
“D, move her,” he said, sharp but calm. He took another step forward, slow, measured.
“You feel it?” Diesel asked.
Killian nodded once. “How could you not?”
Their voices dropped to a register just above instinct.
“What is it?” I asked again, louder. I couldn’t feel anything. “What can you feel?”
No answer.
I reached for the bond. It was there. But barely. Flickering. Thin as spider silk, stretched over flame. I couldn’t feel him, not fully. Not even his emotions.
Just static.
“Hey,” Diesel said, gripping my wrist gently. “I need you to come with me.”
He was serious. When I went to rebuke him, I saw something almost as chilling as Wolfe. Diesel was scared. The protest died on my tongue. I let him lead me backward, my eyes locked on Wolfe the whole time.
Something’s wrong. Something’s breaking.
Diesel stiffened beside me, and I realized I had spoken aloud.
“He’s not zoning out,” Diesel said under his breath to me. “He’s locking down.” Diesel squeezed my wrist. “Did he sleep?”
“What?” I felt my own shiver of fear. “Yes, he slept. I don’t understand, tell me. Please.”
Diesel was whispering now. “His Will is riding him. He feels it. All of it. The betrayal. The power. The pack is falling apart beneath him. He’s pulling it inward, trying to hold it in. But it’s too much.”
“What? Why now?” My heart was pounding. “You sealed the perimeter. The attackers didn’t get in; you said they were already here.”
Diesel shook his head. “Rowen, c’mon. You know that’s not right.” He looked at me—and what I saw in his eyes made my stomach drop. “They never came from outside,” he said. “They’ve been here. Inside. They’re of our pack.”
It hit me like a blow to the chest, because I knew it was the truth, knew I’d already begun to stop myself from denying it.
Then I felt it. The crack in the air all around us, not visibly, but the air was charged. As if the wind had died and every atom in the Hollow stilled to wait for his command.
Killian exhaled hard, then stepped directly into Wolfe’s space. “Here goes,” he muttered. He put a hand to Wolfe’s shoulder, “Alpha,” he said gently. “You have to let it go.”
Wolfe’s fist knocked him clean off his feet, and when I lurched forward, Diesel held me back. “No, Rowen.”
Killian got up, and Wolfe punched him again, and again. My hands were over my mouth, pressed tight to stop my shout as I saw Killian get back to his feet. Shaking his head, as if he could shake off the punch.
Wolfe blinked. Once. Twice. Then he growled.
Not low. Not warning.
It was a sound that could split the trees.
Power rolled off him in a wave—thick, scorching, ancient.
The Will exploded out of him—no command, no direction. Just pure, raw alpha dominance that made the earth itself seem to hum beneath our feet. My knees buckled. Diesel swore and dragged me back faster, shielding me with his body.
Killian was on his feet and stayed rooted against the force of it. Barely.
“He’s detonating,” Diesel breathed, looking over his shoulder. “If I ask you to run, will you go?”
“Never.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “I’m not leaving him.”
Wolfe’s head was tilted back, silver burning in his eyes, his mouth parted as power kept pouring out of him like smoke from a collapsing mountain.
And in that moment—I realized he wasn’t just angry. He was hurt. Not from the betrayal. From the shame of not seeing it sooner.
The wind was silent.
Even the trees had gone still, as if the Hollow itself was holding its breath. Diesel and Killian were frozen—heads low, backs bowed, instinct pressing them to the earth under the weight of his Will.
But not me. Not now. Not now I knew my mate was hurting. I took a step forward.
“Rowen, don’t—” Diesel looked up and reached for me.
I shook him off.
I couldn’t feel him. Couldn’t feel Wolfe. Not really. The bond was still there but buried beneath a tide of fury and anguish so loud it drowned him out. Like he’d sunk into his own power, into the guilt, into the burn.
But I knew him, and I wasn’t going to let him drown in his own storm.
I stepped between him and Killian, my steps sure, and I felt Killian move slightly, giving me a little space.
Wolfe’s back was rising and falling in sharp, shallow bursts. His hands were shaking. Claws half-shifted. Eyes wild with the glow of alpha magic.
He didn’t see me. I doubted he saw anything, but I could see him. I reached into the bond, past the static, past the wrath, and deeper still.
Come back to me.
No answer. I pushed harder.
Wolfe, I swear to the Goddess, if you shut me out now, I will bite you myself. Right now. On your ankle.
The tremble in his shoulders deepened. His breath caught. His head jerked, like he’d heard a voice underwater.
You’re not alone, I told him, voice soft but fierce in the place between us. You’re not carrying this alone anymore. You have me. You have us. I’m here, my love, I’m right here.
The bond buckled—and then surged.
Heat rushed through me, not pain, but pressure, like being pulled through wildfire by something older than time.
I reached both hands up and cupped his face.
His eyes met mine. And just like that—he fell.
His knees buckled. His weight collapsed into me. I staggered, but Killian was there, helping me lower us both to the ground. Wolfe’s head dropped to my shoulder, the ragged sound of his breathing shaking through my bones.