“It is notyourprotector,” they said softly. “You and Wolfe are its.”
The words stole my breath. Before I could respond, Wolfe’s voice drifted from outside—steady, low, infused with patience he didn’t actually possess.
“Rowen?”
“I’m here,” I called.
The druid watched me with something I couldn’t read—respect, worry, ancient calculation. “Tell Wolfe this,” they said. “Dominion is not conquest. It is responsibility. And responsibility demands unity.”
I frowned. “He already knows we’re united.”
The druid’s gaze sharpened. “I did not mean with you.”
Before I could ask what the hell that meant, they walkedpast me, opening the tent flap to let me out. Wolfe stood leaning against a tree, arms crossed, watching the tent like he’d rip it open if I took a second too long.
He reached for me through the bond. Warm. Steady. Holding.
“You do not come into the tent today,” the druid said as they watched him. “You no longer need my counsel, Alpha?”
Wolfe smiled, and it actually looked genuine. “Not in the mood for riddles today.”
The druid smirked. “But riddles are all I have, Alpha.” They ducked back inside their tent, the flap closing softly behind them.
“Well, did you get answers? What did they say?” he asked.
I exhaled. “A lot. And not enough.”
He stepped closer. “You okay?”
“No,” I admitted. “But that feels…right. For today.”
His fingers brushed mine, gentle and grounding. “We’ll handle it.”
The Hollow pulsed once under my feet, as if agreeing.
I squeezed Wolfe’s hand. “The druid says the land is reacting to their claim. And that it’s only going to get louder.”
“Good,” Wolfe growled. “Let it be loud. Let it be furious.”
The land felt as if it surged at his words. Maybe my volatile mate was not the best alpha to be connected to a hungry land ready to fight. “Don’t make it worse,” I whispered.
“This land will not hurt you, my mate.” He dipped hishead, his lips brushing against mine. “We’re not breaking. They are.”
I clung to that. To him. To the land throbbing beneath us like a promise and a warning both.
“Do you feel it?” I whispered, breath catching on the edge of what suddenly felt like destiny tightening around us.
His hand slid to the back of my neck. “I do.”
Around us, the wind swept through the trees—cold, fierce, alive.
The Hollow didn’t breathe, but the land was definitely awake.
I was sittingin the pack hall, shelling peas, wondering why we weren’t panicking more.
Iwas panicking.
I felt so uneasy, and it didn’t help that the Hollow itself had taken up residence in my chest and seemed to beat in rhythm with my heart.
