Ripples

The packhouse office was quiet, except for the scratching of Wyatt’s pen as he moved through stacks of paperwork. Patrol schedules, monthly spending logs, requests for training sessions, and border incident reports all demanded attention. He hated paperwork, but it was necessary. Nothing slipped past him—not when his pack relied on his eyes, his judgment.

Roy had dropped off the latest field updates early that morning. No rogue sightings, no intrusions.

Still, Wyatt’s wolf paced behind his ribs.

Something didn’t add up.

He leaned back in his chair, black leather creaking as he rubbed his forehead. The office was all dark wood and cool shadows, high windows letting in soft morning light. Strategically placed maps marked sectors of pack territory. Red pins for problems. Green for stability.

Nothing red today.

But the instinct that gnawed at his gut hadn’t eased. Not since yesterday morning. Gammas Caden had mentioned picking up a strange scent—familiar but faded—on the west side of the woods. They hadn’t followed it. Not yet.

Wyatt made a note to run the route himself soon.

He hated not knowing.

Across town, Aria lay curled on her side, half-scrolling through old photos on her phone when the screen lit up with a message that sent a jolt through her chest.

Samantha:

Is it true? Are you actually back??

Aria stared at the message.

The pit in her stomach twisted. Of course word had gotten out. Damien had probably opened his mouth the second he spotted her at the store. She hadn’t even seen him in five years, but his presence still carried that same oily weight—half-charm, half-threat.

She took a breath and replied.

Aria:

Yeah… I’m back. Just for now.

The response came faster than she expected.

Samantha:

Why didn’t you tell me? I had to hear it from Damien of all people.

Of course. Because that’s how it always went. Secrets didn’t stay secrets in this town—not in Black Hollow, not with wolves.

Aria:

I’m sorry. I just needed some time to settle in. I wasn’t ready for… all of it.

A beat passed.

Then..

Samantha:

Let’s do lunch tomorrow? Just us. Noon. Kelly’s Grill. You pick the appetizer.

A laugh almost slipped out of Aria’s throat. She typed quickly.

Aria:

You remembered. See you at noon.

She sat back and exhaled. A strange warmth crept over her—comfort, maybe. Relief. Samantha had been her best friend since they were 7, and not much had changed about the girl with fast words and a warm laugh.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

But sleep that night wasn’t gentle.

It dragged her under like a riptide.

In the dream, the hallway walls bled red. Her feet slipped as she tried to run, but he was behind her—her ex, the man who had once sworn he’d die before hurting her. The man who had marked her… claimed her.

He caught her by the hair and yanked.

She hit the floor, gasping.

“You think you can leave me?” he growled, dragging her across the wood like she weighed nothing. “You think I’d let you go?”

Her wolf thrashed inside her, screaming, but it was caged—too broken to fight.

He punched her in the ribs, then again in the face.

“You’re mine.”

She tried to speak.

Another blow.

“You’ll never belong to anyone else.”

Then everything went black.