Page 30 of Mate Night Snack
Emmett moved through the underbrush near Hollow Oak’s western perimeter with practiced quiet, boots sinking into mossy soil, breath measured. The sun hung low in the sky behind him, bleeding gold through the canopy as the light dipped toward dusk.
He crouched near a stretch of pine, hand hovering just above the ground.
There.
A partial print. Paw-shaped. Too large to be coyote. Too narrow for bear. No claw marks. The weight was centered like a predator tracking prey, but the gait was wrong for any local wildlife.
His throat went dry.
Wolf.
But not one of theirs.
The earth didn’t just remember the shape of a creature, it remembered theintent.And this one came through with no regard for the Veil’s boundary. No hesitation.
That scent clung to the air now. Faint but unmistakable.
Ashwin.
Emmett stood slowly, pulse ticking behind his ears.
There were two other scents near the ridge that were less familiar, but wrong in a way that made the hair rise along his forearms. He followed one until it faded into nothing at the creek bend, the kind of clean vanish that could only come from someone trained to disappear.
He didn’t need more evidence.
Ashwin’s pack had been here. Close. Close enough to watch. Close enough toknow.
Emmett’s jaw tensed as he turned back toward town.
They knew she was here.
He found himself at the Hearth & Hollow porch without remembering the walk. The inn sat quiet, bathed in golden twilight, ivy clinging to the sides like it had secrets to hold.
Katniss’s window was cracked open, lace curtains stirring with the breeze.
She still didn’tknow.
That they weren’t just shifters or witches or odd townsfolk with too much folklore on their hands. That the woods moved for people who spoke its language. That the Veil didn’t justkeep things hidden—it tested them. Played favorites.
And sometimes, it chose someone who didn’t survive it.
He clenched his fists at his sides.
She’d been writing more. Late into the night. He’d seen the glow from her lamp when he passed on patrol. Heard the scratch of her pen. Felt her thoughts humming on the air like a current.
He couldn’t risk it anymore.
Not if Ashwin had picked up her scent. Not with the symbol carved into the marker tree. Not with the memory of Mabel Dorsey’s name sitting like a rock in his gut.
He went inside without knocking.
Miriam glanced up from the parlor where she was stitching another too-perfect quilt. She said nothing, only nodded toward the staircase.
Emmett took the steps two at a time.
He knocked once on her door, hard enough to make the wood rattle.
Katniss pulled it open, brow arched, pen still clutched in one hand. “If you’re here to yell about me poking around again, you better wait until I’ve had caffeine.”
