The Hollow Stirs

The night after training, Lena woke with her throat raw and her body slick with sweat. The dream still clung to her skin like smoke: silver forests, wolves with eyes like black voids, and the taste of blood on her tongue. Her wolf prowled inside her ribcage, restless, scratching at the bone as though begging to be let out.

She sat up in the dark, clutching the furs tight. The room was silent except for the low crackle of embers in the hearth. But the silence didn’t feel empty. It felt… crowded.

Something was breathing with her.

Lena swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet sinking into the furs. Her vision swam, edges sharpening, colors too bright, shadows too alive. She staggered to the window and threw it open. Cold air slapped her face.

And then she heard it.

A voice—not quite human, not quite wolf—slid through the trees beyond the fortress walls. Low, guttural, carrying like a wind that only she could feel.

“Blood-marked. Come home.”

Lena’s wolf lunged inside her chest, desperate to answer. She bit down on her lip until iron filled her mouth, forcing herself to stay silent.

The voice came again, softer this time, coaxing.

“You were never theirs. You are ours.”

Her knees nearly buckled. She grabbed the window frame for balance, every nerve stretched thin. Her pulse hammered, her breath ragged.

The door slammed open.

“Lena.”

Kade’s voice cut through the fog, sharp and commanding. He was at her side in two strides, his hand clamping her shoulder, grounding her with the heat of his touch. His eyes burned gold in the dark.

“What did you hear?” he demanded.

She blinked, trembling. “You… you heard it too?”

“No.” His grip tightened. “But I felt you answer. Your wolf is clawing at me through the bond.”

Shame and terror tangled in her chest. “It called me… like it knew me. Like it wanted me back.”

Kade snarled, the sound ripping through the chamber. His claws pierced into the wooden frame of the window. “The Hollow’s already reaching for you. Too soon.”

Lena swallowed, throat burning. “What does that mean?”

“That you’re marked more deeply than we thought,” he said, voice harsh. He turned to face her fully, his chest rising and falling in furious rhythm. “The Hollow doesn’t waste whispers. It only calls what it’s already claimed.”

The words sank into her like ice. Already claimed.

Lena shook her head. “No. I’m not theirs. I’m—”

Kade seized her wrist, dragging her closer until her body brushed against his, until she could feel the wild heat rolling off him. “Say it.” His voice was low, dangerous, unyielding. “Say who you belong to.”

Her pulse thundered. Her wolf howled. She met his gaze, defiance and desperation colliding in her chest. “I’m yours.”

Kade’s chest rumbled with approval, a dark sound that made her knees weak. He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath hot and ragged. “Remember that. Because the Hollow will try to tear it from you.”

Outside, the night howled again—long, low, and hungry.

By dawn, the fortress was on edge. The howls hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t come from Blackwood’s wolves, but from the borderlands—unnatural, jagged cries that twisted the stomach and made even seasoned sentries glance at the treeline with unease.

The pack gathered in the great hall, their murmurs sharp and nervous. Lena sat among them, her skin still crawling with the memory of the Hollow’s voice in her dreams. Every creak of the floorboards made her wolf tense. Every shifting shadow looked too alive.

Then the doors boomed open.

An envoy strode inside, draped in midnight-blue robes embroidered with silver sigils—the Council’s mark. His presence drained the hall of warmth. Two guards flanked him, armored in steel chased with runes that reeked of restraint magic.

“Alpha Kade Wilder,” the envoy intoned, his voice smooth as oil. “The Council sends word.”

Kade stood at the head of the hall, Lena’s eyes snapping to him instinctively. He looked carved from storm itself—broad-shouldered, golden eyes burning, his very presence daring the envoy to speak a word too many.

“You come uninvited onto Blackwood soil,” Kade growled. “Say your piece quickly.”

The envoy unfurled a scroll, the parchment glowing faintly with Council wards. His tone was cold, unyielding.

“The Hollow Trial begins with the next full moon. By decree of the Council, Lena Carter—the marked outsider—will be delivered into the Hollow’s heart.”

Gasps rippled through the pack. Lena’s blood turned to ice.

The envoy continued, ignoring the outrage. “Should she prevail, her place among Blackwood will be legitimized. Should she fall, the bond will break, and balance will be restored. But know this—any attempt to shield her, to interfere, to delay, will be deemed rebellion.”

A low, vicious snarl tore from Kade’s chest. “You threaten me?”

“I deliver law,” the envoy replied calmly, rolling the scroll closed. His gaze slid to Lena, sharp and assessing. “The Hollow already whispers her name. She belongs to it more than she belongs to you.”

Before Lena could speak, Kade was across the room, his hand wrapped around the envoy’s throat. Power rippled from him, golden eyes blazing, fangs bared.

“She is mine,” Kade roared, his voice shaking the very timbers of the hall. “And if the Hollow wants her, it will have to go through me.”

The envoy did not flinch, though his face darkened as Kade’s grip tightened. “Careful, Alpha. The Council does not forgive defiance. Protect her too fiercely, and you may doom her faster than the Hollow ever could.”

Kade released him with a shove, disgust curling his lips. “Get out of my hall.”

The envoy straightened his robes, his expression eerily calm. “Prepare your blood-marked, Wilder. The moon is watching. And it is hungry.”

With that, he turned and swept from the chamber, leaving silence in his wake.

The pack looked to Kade. He stood like a storm barely leashed, his chest heaving, his claws still half-extended. Lena rose slowly, her wolf pacing inside her like a caged thing. Their eyes met across the hall—Alpha and blood-marked, predator and prey, bound and hunted.

The Hollow wasn’t waiting anymore.

It was calling.