Page 9 of Fated Wolf's Destiny

I narrow my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

Gus snorts, like my words are some kind of joke. “You’re a smart girl. You’ve gotta know this place isn’t for everyone. Shadow Hollow’s got a way of… chewing up outsiders. Might be better to take the inheritance, sell the mill house and the clinic, and head back to the city where you belong.”

Something inside me snaps. “I don’t know where I belong, Gus—not that it’s any of your business. Arthur thought it might be here. He trusted me with this clinic, with his patients, and I’m not about to walk away just because some people don’t think I fit their definition of ‘local.’”

His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes. “You think this place will just automatically accept you because Arthur left you his clinic and home? This is a small town, Bella, and things don’t work that way. If you think you’ll get a pass just because of Arthur, you’d best think again.”

His words land like a challenge, but I don’t back down. I step closer, meeting his glare with one of my own. “I’m not going anywhere. So, if you’re here to scare me off, you’re wasting your time.”

We just stare at each other, the air between us crackling like a live wire. Then Gus grunts, turning toward the door. “Suit yourself,” he mutters. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He leaves without another word, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the windows. I stand there, my heart pounding, the weight of his warning pressing against my chest.

Shadow Hollow doesn’t want me here. That much is clear. But I’m not leaving. Not until I find out what really happenedto Arthur—and what secrets this town is so desperate to keep buried.

RYDER

The woods feel alive tonight, the wind weaving through the forest like whispers carrying warnings. The clearing glows faintly under the full moon, a perfect circle surrounded by towering trees, their shadows stretching across the soft earth. My pack waits in tense silence, their faces drawn, their eyes watching me with a mixture of expectation and unease. The weight of their stares presses on me, but I don’t falter. I can’t.

“We have a problem,” I begin, my voice low and steady, cutting through the rustle of the trees. “And it’s one we can no longer ignore. This pack, our pack, isn’t just facing a threat to its future. We’re staring down extinction if we don’t act.” My gaze sweeps over them, holding steady even as unease churns in my gut. “I won’t let that happen. But we have to be smarter about how we approach it.”

A murmur ripples through the group. Most of them already know what I’m about to say. The birthrate crisis has been gnawing at us for years, and every failed pregnancy feels like a wound that won’t heal. But hearing it out loud makes it real, and real means I have to fix it.

There’s a flicker of dissent in the crowd—subtle, but there. I can feel it, like static in the air before a storm. My brother, Lucas, steps forward, his expression calm but his jaw tight. “It’s not just the declining birthrate, it’s the Crimson Claw. They are more than a nuisance. They’re coordinated. They’re closing in on ourborders in ever smaller circles like they’re testing us. You think that’s a coincidence?”

“I think,” I bite out, “that you’re letting paranoia cloud your judgment.”

Lucas doesn’t flinch. He never does. “And I think you’re too focused on the bigger picture in the Rainshadow Region to see the problems we have right here. As much as you would like to believe nothing is changing and that we can maintain the status quo, we can’t.”

The pack shifts uneasily, their murmurs intensifying. I step forward, letting the weight of my authority roll through the clearing. “This isn’t a debate. The birthrate crisis and the Crimson Claw are the priority. We don’t need chaos or speculation tearing us apart.”

“And what about the human?” Lucas says, his voice cutting through mine like a whip. The mention of her makes my muscles tense, and he knows it. His eyes narrow, searching my face. “She came back, Ryder. I don’t think she’s just passing through. She seems far more interested in this town than she should be. You think that’s a coincidence?”

“I think she bears watching, but Isabella Gordon is none of your concern,” I snap, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “She doesn’t know anything. She’s no threat.”

“She’s Arthur Whitfield’s protégé,” Lucas fires back. “You don’t think he told her anything? You don’t think she’ll start asking questions?”

“I think we have bigger things to deal with than one curious human female.”

It’s a lie. And Lucas knows it.

The pack goes quiet, the air heavy with the unsaid. I feel their unease, their doubt. They’re looking at me, waiting for a crack, a hesitation, but I don’t give them one.

“We stay focused,” I say, my tone final. “We keep the Crimson Claw out. We continue to work on resolving the birthrate decline. What we don’t do is let anyone, human or otherwise, unravel what we’ve built here.”

Lucas holds my gaze for a long moment before stepping back, his silence more cutting than anything he could have said. I know he’s not done haranguing me.

The meeting ends, the pack dispersing into the night. But I stay behind, staring at the shadows between the trees, listening to the quiet rustle of the forest. It should feel like home—this place, this role I’ve fought for—but right now, it feels like a cage.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. The truth is, I don’t know what Isabella Gordon knows. I don’t know what Arthur might have told her before his death, or how far she’s willing to go to find answers. What I do know is that her being here could be a complication I can’t afford. Not now.

She shouldn’t matter. But she does.

Her scent lingers from the memory of my dreams, unshakable, like the forest after a rainstorm. Sharp, earthy, and alive. And it makes me want to drag her closer and push her away all at once.

A rustle in the trees snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn sharply, my senses on high alert. For a moment, I think it’s one of the pack, circling back. But then I catch it—a faint, familiar scent carried on the wind.

I step into the shadows, my instincts taking over as I move silently into the trees. I don’t call out. If the Crimson Claw is nearby, they shouldn’t know I’m here. I need to assign one of my warriors to keep watch over her. I’d rather do it myself. Hell, I’d rather she was tucked safely in my bed, but that’s not possible. Not right now. I’ll keep her safe, even if it means staying in the dark where she can’t find me or the answers she seeks.

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