A howl rose from the back of the crowd, raw and disbelieving. Another shifter snarled, “Over my dead body.”
Diesel’s wolf brushed against me as he moved to the front of us all, leaking cold fury. I saw the fear in themessenger’s eyes as he looked upon the form of Diesel’s wolf.
I didn’t blame him; I’d had pretty much the same reaction the first time I’d seen Diesel’s wolf form.
The Hollow surged. Not in magic. Inweight—and I had the bone-deep sensation that the land itself was listening.
Wolfe moved then. Only a fraction—just enough to step forward, putting his body infinitesimally in front of mine. The gesture was subtle. It still felt like a wall.
“Is that all?” he asked. He sounded bored, and I envied him his self-control.
The messenger faltered, thrown by the lack of reaction from the alpha, his betas or hismate.
He cleared his throat. “The Council also summons you, Alpha Wolfe, and you, Rowen of Blueridge Hollow, to a formal hearing, three weeks hence, to answer for your actions. Until that time, you are to cease all exercising of authority over Blueridge Hollow?—”
“No,” Wolfe said, not loudly. Not in anger. Just a simple rebuke, and yet the word cut through the yard like a blade.
The messenger blinked, clearly confused. “You don’t have the right to refuse, Alpha.”
I took a step to the side and saw Wolfe smile then. It wasnotkind.
“This land doesn’t answer to your parchment,” he said. “It never has. It answers to the ones who bleed for it. The ones who scatter the ash of their dead on its soil. The ones who know every inch of its ridges because they’ve patrolled them in the middle of winter.” His gaze sharpened. “It answers to my mate.”
Even though they were behind me, I could feel the eyes of my pack on my back. The messenger glanced at me quickly, almost afraid to make eye contact. The weight of Wolfe’s words hit me because he was right; the Hollow was a familiar burden that was never a burden at all. The druid gave me titles and legacy, but the bond gave me something else…choice.
I lifted my chin. “Blueridge Hollow is not dissolved,” I said, every syllable scraped from the center of my chest. “You can write whatever you want on your scrolls. The land still knows its own, andwestill know it.”
From the way the messenger studied me, it looked like I was a problem on a board he wasn’t expecting. “You defy the Council openly, then?” I heard the scorn in his voice.
I wanted to say yes. To spit it in his face, but Wolfe’s hand brushed my back, a warm drag between my shoulders. A reminder that war doesn’t start with blood. It starts with silence.
And we’d already declared this war once.
“We will attend the hearing,” Wolfe said, voice smooth as ice. “Together. You can tell your Council that.”
The messenger relaxed a fraction, which was a mistake.
“But hear me,” Wolfe continued, the growl under his words raising the hair on my arms. “There is no world in which I surrender this land. There is no world in which you break this pack.” He reached back, curling his fingers around mine, anchoring us both. “You can stamp and sign and decree anything you damn well want, but the Hollow knows who guards it.”
And the Hollow answered—just for a heartbeat. The ground hummed under my boots, a low, thrummingacknowledgment, and from the low murmur around us, I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt it.
The messenger paled significantly. His gaze dropped to the parchment, his hands shaking just enough for me to see. “I’ve delivered the decree,” he said, suddenly brisk. “My duty is done.”
“Run back to them, then,” Killian called out, not bothering to hide his contempt. “Tell them how it felt standing on soil that doesn’t recognize their authority.”
The messenger took a step back with stiff movements, as if every muscle was fighting not to bolt. He didn’t look at me as he backed away; his eyes were on Diesel, who had taken another step forward. The messenger turned abruptly and ran.
The silence he left felt heavy. For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke.
Wolfe turned to face his pack, his eyes glowing faintly with alpha power. I moved with him, and we stood shoulder to shoulder, most eyes on Wolfe, some on me.
“Is that real?” someone muttered finally. “Can they do that? Can they just…wipe us out?”
“They think they can erasehim,” another voice said. “Us with him.”
“They think wrong,” Diesel said flatly, back in his human form, pulling on a pair of black jeans.
Wolfe squeezed my hand once, then let go only so he could fully address the gathered pack. “You’ve heard their decree,” he said. His voice carried in that way only an alpha’s can, hitting every ear, every wolf. “You know what they want.” He didn’t need to repeat it. I doubted any of us standing here would forget it. “They want our land,” hecontinued. “They want our submission. They want Rowen removed and me back on Stonefang ground.” His gaze swept the crowd, steady and merciless. “They want you to remember the feeling of being scared, broken. Defeated.”
