Wolf Hollow Book Novels & Stories

Enyo Burnside The minute I shift I allow my wolf to take over as I feel myself drowning and I can’t seem to get my head around the words that appeared on the pages of the book or the feeling of familiarity that came the moment she opened the pages of that dusty old book. What is the truth? Is my whole life a lie? I don’t know but what I do know is I am glad Clayton didn’t follow me, I need to digest the information, and who did the old she-wolf mean by she visited me; My head is spinning with everything, I don't even realise where I am until the heavy scent of mums lillies hits me.

I take the book back out to the living room area, where I pace the room staring at the pages. There are phone numbers, more maps. But there’s nothing on the damn maps to specifically say where it is. No city, state, not even a dang continent. They have to mean something. He couldn’t have possibly had packs in all these places? “Gold Hollow,” I say, finally seeing something under a map. *It has to be a pack,* Hope says, nodding. He’s even got a little river next to it, exact where a wolf pack would likely make a home. The wolf counselor Ash, or his son River would know what to do with this book.

“If you’re reading this, the moon is already bleeding. And you are not safe—not from them, not from what stirs beneath your skin. But you are no longer only theirs. You are mine. You are Hollowborn. And this time, daughter… you do not run.” Something cracked inside her. She pressed the page to her chest. It burned hot through the cotton of her shirt. Her lips parted—but no sound came, just the breath before sound. Her wolf stirred behind her ribcage. Not just stirred—scratched. Begged. The wind changed. No longer gentle. It howled. Low at first. Then climbing. The entire forest howled. It came not from one wolf—but many. And it wasn’t for Victor. Not this time.

“You did nothing wrong.” Her pulse refused to slow. The Northern Wolves. The book. She had taken it without understanding why, back when escape had been all instinct and terror. Taken it from Lucian’s study, heart racing as if it already knew it mattered. It told a history Wildbourne never taught. Wolves as balance. Hunters as something broken long ago. Some nights she believed it completely. Other nights, she feared it was dangerous just to read. It had become Ever’s favourite story. Now she knelt in the sandpit, holding Ever close, eyes darting as the ground beneath them seemed to hum.

I continued reading my book ‘The Name of All Things by Jenn Lyons’, just as I opened my book I heard growling. My entire body froze turning cold; I took a big breath and looked into the direction of the growling. I met the eyes of a wolf, glowing green eyes. “So… I assume you’re the one who attacked that girl.” I said as I slowly made my way to my feet and moved back toward the door. Then the wolf leaped and I stumbled tripping; I fell back hitting my head and everything went dark.

I’ll use everything I have if need be, but I’ll live long enough to make sure he’s ready and strong enough. “What’s wrong?” Willow asks from the doorway. I don’t even open my eyes to look at her. Her scent already threatens to rob me of my sanity again, looking at her may just push me over the edge. “Take the book. Go to page one-hundred-and-sixty-three, and read the entry about the Ultima wolf.” I listen to her move around, the soft rustling of pages as she opens the book and starts reading. “What the hell is an Ultimate Alpha?” I smile when she goes quiet and a few minutes later says, “Oh. It’s you.”

The spines were all faded to one degree or another, and most of them looked antique. “Sure as hell not her porn stash, but that would be far less incriminating,” he remarked, taking out a black-bound book with gold lettering. The title read, “SAMPA VARGR” in huge letters that resembled runes. She recognized vargr from one of Darian's titles. It meant “wolf.” Hunter offered her the book, and she flipped through its pages, her heart pounding as the meaning of sampa became clearer with each successive illustration. Huge bipedal wolves were being slaughtered in every way possible, each grotesque method culminating in a silver dagger through the heart. “Why does Sandra have a book on how to hunt

Gradually with every word that he spoke, Nicole was beginning to regain her consciousness but just then a day tipped over one of the stainless steel objects there that made such a loud sound. The sound broke Nicole’s concentration within her body and triggered the wolf even more, they hated loud sound or bright light. The she wolf was pissed now and broke the second restraint almost immediately. Then the rampage begun, she went towards Henry and growled really loudly like she was about to attack him but she was slightly able to recognize him, she tossed him aside and then Nicole turned and rammed her way through the door of the basement.

“That’s Sky.” Sky tilts her head. Takes us in. Me. Draven. Cove. Ash. Creek. Two hundred sixty wolves. She smiles. The air pressure drops. “Scatter!” Wrath roars. Lightning comes down. Not one bolt. Five. Ten. A goddamn storm in a girl. It hits the Hollow line. Wolves don’t scream. They convulse. Fur ignites, then goes out, because Sky doesn’t burn. She breaks. Nervous systems, bones, the space between heartbeats.

Chapter Forty-seven Jenna's POV The hurricane roars harder, a monstrous wall of wind and dust that obliterates everything in its path. The humans have begun to flee the natural disaster, their weapons discarded. I look wildly around as everyone continues to scamper towards safer grounds. The whirlwind appears targeted at the humans, whipping them in its terrifying churn, their bodies twisting and turning abnormally in the angry cone of dust and debris. That is when I catch sight of the wolf again, the one who appears to be the instigator of this strange magic. The furious wolf stands tall, still the largest I have ever seen, with its fur fluttering against the wind.