Page 43 of Wolf's Reckoning
Killian stepped forward. “That’s not an answer.”
“No.” The druid watched him. “I suppose to you, it isn’t.”
“He’souralpha,” Killian snarled. “Find your own.”
I almost laughed at his possessiveness, but he was so serious and so right. The druid said nothing, just turned their attention from Killian to me.
I ground my molars. “Do you expect me to play lapdog?”
The druid frowned. “I expect you to lead,” they said, calm and sure. “Or at the very least, keep the danger and the ambitious from carving the Hollow into a territory war.”
I bit back the taste of bile. “So this was about the land. This wasn’t about Rowen.”
“It will always concern the daughter born of the Hollow.” They finally rose, slow and deliberate, until they stood at their full height. They were shorter, smaller, but no less dangerous.
“She cannot rule in name,” they said. “The law is clear. But she can stand behind the wolf strong enough to hold the line—and who is wise enough to let her steer.”
“And you think that’s me?” I asked, voice low.
“I think,” the druid said slowly, “you’re the only one the pack won’t rebel against. The only one she won’t destroy.”
I looked away. Just for a second. Because the truth felt too real. Icouldsurvive her. I’d done it already. Those two others? Wouldn’t last a week.
“If you’re wrong,” I said, “this ends in blood.”
The druid smiled at Killian and me. “It always ends in blood.”
“You can’t tell her,” I blurted. “You can’t tell her…any of them, what I am. Not yet. Say I’m a leader, fair enough, but you can’t tell…them.” I meant her; they knew I meant her. “She will think I forced this on him…when he’s weak.” I hated the fact that she would think this, but I also knew her too well.
They dipped their head slightly and then went back into the main hall. The fact that the druid didn’t defend her or speak up and say she wouldn’t, said enough. I didn’t follow, but I knew I needed to move. To breathe something that didn’t reek of legacy and power plays.
“Want to check out the perimeter with me?” I asked Killian, even though I knew he would.
“Guess I should,” he grumbled. “See what I’m working with.”
He started to pull off his shirt, stopping when I shook my head. “Let’s run it,” I told him quietly. “Shift later.”
So we ran. Boots on the ground, breath in my throat, tension bleeding out with every footfall pounding against the mountain’s skin. The woods of the Hollow hadn’t changed much. Still thick. Still ancient. Still whispering secrets to those who knew how to listen.
But the air was…different.
Tighter.
The trees didn’t sway; they leaned in, and it almost felt…suffocating. And the wind…the wind didn’t smell right.
I slowed at the old boundary line, where the pine just thinned enough to give the world breath. Where Rowen and I used to?—
No. Not that memory. Not now. Possibly not ever, not with what was happening now. I knelt, my hand brushing the soil, which was still damp from yesterday’s rainfall. That scent again. Wrong. Burnt pine, copper, sweat and underneath it all…rage.
Not the kind that simmers. The kind that festers. A rogue had passed through here. Recently.
Killian sensed the same. He spun slowly, his eyes searching as my jaw clenched.
“Not a Blueridge Hollow wolf. Not a neighbor. Something feral.”
Killian was nodding. “The scent’s all wrong,” he spoke softly. “Wild and not in a fun way.”
I rose slowly. Every muscle going still. If I followed the scent, I’d be gone for hours. Maybe days. But if I didn’t? I looked back toward the ridge, towards the pack. Towards her.
