A howl cut through the trees—Diesel’s. Not out of distress or pain, just a call for attention.
“Found something.”
I moved before the thought finished forming, and the world sharpened into scent and sound. The remaining fighters followed behind me as I sprinted after Diesel’s call, tearing through brush and stone. The forest flashed past in a blur until the scent hit me—sharp, fresh, wrong.
Blood that wasn’t the scent of someone I recognized, and beneath it, another scent—fear.
I skidded to a stop as Diesel appeared, pacing a tight circle around a trembling figure in the dirt—one of the Pack Council’s scouts, human again, bleeding from a deep gougealong his back. Diesel’s wolf bristled, ears flat, ready to finish him.
“Not yet,”I told him through the mindlink. I shifted back, crouching in front of the scout. “You got something to say?”
He flinched back, eyes darting to the tree line as if hoping someone—anyone—would come to save him. I didn’t need to tell him there was no one coming for him; from the look in his eye, he already knew.
“They…they said you wouldn’t fight,” he rasped.
A humorless grin pulled at my mouth. “Then they don’t know anything at all.”
“They said the Hollow would crumble. That the land would…would stall you.”
Diesel shifted halfway, snapping his teeth inches from the male’s throat.
“Speak plainly,” I snarled. “Or I’ll let him finish you.”
“They said the very land itself would turn against you if you fought the Pack Council,” the man gasped. “That the Pack Council governed the land and the land was theirs.”
My wolf surfaced. Lies. Propaganda designed to plant doubt in shifters.
I leaned in close enough for him to see exactly what kind of monster he’d been sent to face. “This land chose me,” I said. “And tonight, it chose the side it stands on.”
The ground churned beneath us once more—slow, territorial, signaling a warning to the outsider bleeding on its soil.
The scout whimpered.
“Kill him?” Diesel asked flatly.
I almost said yes, my mate’s instruction in my ear, but fear was a weapon too. “No,” I finally said. “Let him tellthem what he saw. Let him tell them all they’re being lied to.”
Diesel stepped aside with a disgusted snort. The male hurried to his feet, faltered, then bolted into the trees.
I rose slowly, letting the night settle in around me, hearing the reports in my head as the Hollow breathed beneath my boots like a living beast.
“War’s here,” Diesel said.
“No,” I corrected, eyes narrowing in the direction the scout had fled. “That wasn’t war.” I tilted my head toward the sky, letting the moonlight hit my face. “That was the warm-up.” I punched his shoulder lightly. “Let’s go check on Killian.”
“And hopefully soon, someone can tell us where the fuck Brand is,” Diesel muttered.
Yeah, and that.
Brand had been too quiet for too long. No updates, no mental nudge, nothing. Either the Four Winds Pack was still in mourning and keeping outsiders at arm’s length…or something worse was happening.
I didn’t like either option.
As we jogged back toward the ridge, the night pressed close around us—not threatening, but watchful. The Hollow didn’t sleep; it waited. And every time my foot hit the ground, a faint vibration responded.
Not enough to notice unless you were connected to it. I didn’t realize I was until it awakened inside my mate, and now I wasn’t sure if I felt it through me or through her. Either way, it was enough that my wolf lifted its head.
Diesel cast a glance my way. “It’s getting stronger.”
