Black Hallows Novels & Stories

“ The next game is called the game of Echoes.” Luke announced, standing on the makeshift ring where the five used to practice fighting. “Each competitor will go through the East portal which leads to the world of the hollows. For the sake of those who do not know,” he continued. “ Hollows are phantoms that can see guilt, pain, rage, jealousy, and envy. They can also materialize into your greatest fears, your deepest desires and the things that haunt you when you sleep.

The air tasted wrong—metallic and stale, like a room that hadn't been opened in a hundred years. "They're here," I said. I looked toward the entrance at the far end of the rink. Three figures stepped out . They weren't wearing hockey gear. They were wearing ragged black suits. Their skin was the color of a bruise, and their eyes were glowing with a sickly, pulsing purple light. The Hollow Ones. They didn't even howl. The first one leaped onto the ice, its claws extending six inches from its fingertips. It swiped at a defensive player, sending the boy flying into the boards with a sickening thud.

The old lighthouse had been dark for years. Perched on the jagged edge of Widow’s Point, the Black Hollow Lighthouse had been abandoned since the night Keeper Alden Rowe vanished without a trace. No one had taken the position after that. Some said he’d fallen. Others whispered the sea had claimed him for a debt long unpaid. Mara didn’t believe in sea-debts. But she knew what she saw. Three flashes. Evenly spaced. Deliberate. The pattern repeated. Her little brother, Toby, burst into her room. “Did you see it?”

Killian moved in front of me as Rowan shifted partially, but I already recognized the scent filling the corridor. Hawthorne stepped into view with four wolves beside him. His eyes settled on Helena first then Elaine. Finally, they found me. His smile widened. “My dead wife, my useless daughter, and Sara Miller in one room,” Hawthorne said. “The Moon Goddess is finally apologizing to me.”

“The bark on half the eastern line is gray now. Dead gray. Like something drained the life out of it overnight.” Inferno stirred violently. Zenith inhaled sharply beside me. “The Hollow Arc,” she whispered. “Yes,” I said grimly. Koa looked between us. “Okay, fantastic. I officially hate that name now.” But nobody smiled this time. Because suddenly the pieces aligned too cleanly.

Mara grabs the nearest child, Bram and Fen lunge for the doors, but they won’t budge—ice welds them shut. Thalia stares into the rising frost, her magic sparking and guttering in her chest. For a heartbeat, she sees a face at the window—a mask turned inside out, eyes of bottomless hunger—before it vanishes into the storm. The Hollowing has come. No one breathes for a heartbeat. The darkness presses so thick it blots out even memory of light. The hall is a box—small, airless, crowded—and the walls seem to bow inward, pinning every shoulder and chest tight. For a moment, it feels as if even time has stopped, as if the world outside the stones no longer exists.

Then a horn sounded outside Black Hollow. One. Then another. Then many. The tower woke instantly. Cassian stood. I grabbed the challenge parchment. Kaeron stepped into the doorway. In the distance, beyond the black trees, red lights flared across the sky. Not one symbol this time. Dozens. Messages blooming over the northern roads. Damien’s propaganda. A woman’s voice screamed through the magic. Not Selene. A human woman. “Black Hollow took my daughter!” Another voice cried, “The blood witch commands the dead!”

Kael didn't look pleased, but he nodded. Moments later we were climbing the northern battlements. The storm hit us immediately, freezing wind and blinding snow, and the fortress stretched below with thousands of wolves preparing for battle. Archers lined the walls, warriors gathered in the courtyard, the entire pack stood ready. Then I saw them. My breath caught. The Hollow Kings. Five figures stood beyond the gates, only five, and somehow that was worse, far worse. They wore black armor that seemed forged from darkness itself, silver crowns resting upon their heads, their faces appearing almost human, almost. Their eyes glowed with pale moonlight, ancient, merciless, immortal.

"And then... that child offered my daughter a cookie." Nyx covered her face. "Please stop mentioning the cookie." "It was touching." "It was embarrassing." "It was both," Kael agreed. The Shadow Wolf sighed. "Perhaps... there is still something worth saving." Hope flickered, small, fragile, and dangerous. Then, a sharp scream echoed through the Hollow Realm. Everyone turned as Cassius appeared through a portal, covered in blood, breathing heavily, and utterly terrified. Killian rushed forward. "Cassius!" The old man collapsed. "The city..." His voice trembled. "Blackthorn City is under attack."

Director Halric Voss steps into the faint beam of the headlights, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, unnatural crimson light, his mouth pulling back in a twisted, demonic grin. “Did you really think Mirelle was acting alone, Alpha Blackthorne?” Halric’s voice booms through the freezing mountain air, layered with dark, overlapping echoes. “The Moonshadow Infirmary belongs to the Blood Moon Coven now... and your mate’s blood is the key to our ritual.” Before Kaelen can spring forward, two massive, shadowy wolves with glowing red eyes leap out of the tree line, landing directly between us and the road back to the lodge, blocking our only escape.