Grandmother clucked her tongue. “Alpha of two packs, two territories, and still impertinent.” She dropped her eyes back down to her knitting—her hands hadn’t stopped since I came into their home. “You think we know more than you do, Alpha? Alpha touched by the Goddess.” She sniffed. “I think not.”
“Then tell me what you think I already know,” I prompted her. “You said it yourself, Grandmother, I was always slow.”
She giggled, and Grandfather harrumphed. “Charms improved,” he muttered. “The land has always chosen guardians. Long before the Pack Council. Long before wolves thought bloodlines meant crowns instead of anchors.”
Grandmother nodded. “The Hollow is old. Older thaneven us.” She looked up from her knitting. “We’re young ones compared to the magic that lies there.”
Grandfather was nodding along. “The Hollow is older than any Pack Council or law. Older than rows of alphas bashing each other’s heads in.” His blind eyes were fixed somewhere over my shoulder. “It remembers.” His head moved a fraction, and I knew that even though he was blind, he saw me perfectly. “Remembers those that have bled for it, sacrificed for it,bornof it.”
Born of it.
“Like Rowen?” Like my son will be? My pulse thudded sharply against my temple. “What does it remember?” I asked, almost scared of the answer.
“Balance,” Grandmother said. “Unity. Daughters born of its soil. And those who came to protect them.”
A prickle ran along my spine. This is what the druid had said to Rowen. “You’re talking about the land choosing me.”
“No.” Grandfather wagged a finger in my direction. “The land chose your mate, Rowen.Shechose you. That’s how it works.”
Grandmother nodded. “But the land recognizes what she recognizes. And now, because she is tied to you—so is it.”
My wolf rose at that, my alpha power uncoiling within it. Massive, steady, ancient. “So the Pack Council trying to dissolve the Hollow?—”
“Is like trying to dissolve the mountains,” she said. “Or the moon. Or your mate’s temper.”
That made me snort. “Accurate.”
Grandfather leaned forward, voice gravel and dark. “The last time the Pack Council tried something like this,they were smaller. Dumber. Greedier. They wanted control over lands they didn’t understand.”
“And?”
“They broke the wrong pact.” He tapped the side of his head. “And were broken in turn.”
My blood chilled. “Definebroken.”
Grandmother shrugged. “Gone.”
“Gone,” Grandfather echoed. “Vanished. Like wolves swallowed whole by fog.”
I stared at them. “You’re telling me the Hollow erased them.”
“The land protects its own,” Grandmother replied. “But only when it must. And only when its guardian cannot.”
“And you think it will again?” I asked quietly.
“You tell us.” Grandmother pointed a bony finger at my chest. “You’re the one it listens to now.”
Me?
“Try not to die,” Grandmother said casually. “Best not to anger it.”
The room thickened. The air felt heavier. It felt as if something unseen was leaning closer, looking over my shoulder, anticipating what was coming next.
The door was knocked, and Cody came in. Whatever he sensed in the room made him stay beside the door. “Alpha?”
I shook myself and stood. “I need to check on the ones who attacked you,” I told them. I looked at Grandfather. “Are you okay?”
“Took you ten minutes to ask me, boy,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “Don’t let that bloodline of yours be mistaken for becoming a crown,” he warned.
