Wolf Hollow (Wolf Hollow Shifters, Book 1)

by Nikki Jefford

Palmer made his way to the middle of the clearing.

  “Attention, everyone! Attention!” he called out. “I have good news to share.” Palmer’s winsome smile quieted pack members almost instantly. “Two vulhena were disposed of today. Good work, Aden and Sasha, and Tabor and Olivia.” He led the pack in a group applause.

  Over half the pack turned to face Aden while clapping. Lacy’s grin widened and she touched his arm, putting a blush on Aden’s cheeks.

  “Way to go, Aden!” someone yelled over the applause.

  Palmer waved his hands down for silence.

  “As you know the full moon is in another two days.”

  The group howled and laughed.

  Palmer’s grin widened. “And as you know, it is tradition for all single wolves to attend the full moon ceremony.”

  This time, the howling increased in volume, mostly from the single male wolf shifters. The full moon ceremony took place before the actual full moon. It was a longstanding tradition for the single shifters in the pack to attend the ceremony in which chosen members performed a mating dance believed to bring luck to the couples trying for pups.

  If there was one thing the mating dance was good for, it was working the single wolves into a frenzy. That and Jager’s special brew made for a wild night.

  Sasha always performed in the mating dance, but she did no mating afterward. She knew the dance so well she went into a trance when she performed it. Afterward, she snuck off alone and slept soundly knowing all the single wolves got a night to enjoy basic pleasures before the mated wolves had their turn.

  The howls among the pack went on long and loud. Palmer allowed it to die down on its own. When it did, he raised his arms dramatically.

  “For tomorrow’s full moon ceremony, we have the great honor of welcoming Hector from Glenn Meadows, and his cousin, Alexa, as our guests.”

  Sasha gave a start.

  There were soft murmurs and stunned whispers of, “Hector!”

  The council had tried for years to bring Hector over to Wolf Hollow. They’d invited him more times than Sasha could count. They’d practically begged him to at least attend a full moon ceremony and meet her.

  Hector was a pureblood from the Glenn Meadows shifters tribe, a five-day journey on four legs.

  “Hector and his cousin, Alexa, arrive tomorrow,” Palmer said. “I trust everyone will make them both feel at home in Wolf Hollow.”

  Cheers of consent went up.

  It made sense Hector’s cousin would join him rather than his sister, Hailey. The Glenn Meadows shifters wouldn’t want to risk sending two purebloods at once.

  As the merriment continued, Palmer’s chest lifted. “Tomorrow’s ceremony will bring extra luck to our mated couples with Hector taking Sasha as his partner in the mating dance.” Palmer looked around the crowd, smile widening when his eyes landed on hers.

  She gave nothing away, none of her anguish or outrage at learning this news with the rest of the pack. Palmer was neither as barbaric as Garrick, nor as crusty as Jager, nor was he her friend, despite the sociable smile always ready on his lips. She couldn’t count on a single council member to offer her the common courtsesy of consulting her first.

  Sasha’s legs turned leaden. She felt like invisible ties bound her in place as she stood rooted to the ground, both stoic and sacrificial, she thought bitterly.

  Cheers went up.

  They all wanted her to mate with a fellow pureblood.

  They wanted her to breed, as Tabor had so crudely put it earlier.

  At least he didn’t beat around the bush. She found she preferred Tabor’s bluntness to the pack’s offhanded jabs and pokes.

  They continued to chatter gleefully. Everyone had given up on Wolfrik returning. Hector had been their remaining hope, and Sasha had been prepared to claim him if he joined their pack and if she found him acceptable.

  That was before she’d formed an attachment to Aden. It especially disheartened her to see him cheering with the rest of the pack. That was what Sasha would always remember. There wasn’t a trace of regret on his face. He turned to Lacy and they smiled at each other until both their cheeks turned rosy and they broke eye contact with bashful grins.

  Sasha had to fight control to keep from shifting. Anguish crashed over her like the roaring waters at Skyler Falls after a heavy rain, the onslaught threatened to pull her under before she could catch her breath. She needed to break out of her skin and run free.

  Old Jager limped over and slapped her on the back. He still had a lot of strength for a man permanently crippled. Even shifting was too painful for him. He’d chosen to remain in human form, probably to make full use of his tongue with his daily grumblings.

  That evening, his brown eyes shown with rare gaiety.

  “No need to thank me,” he said.

  This was one of the few occasions when Sasha would have welcomed his typically foul mood.

  “I am making a special batch of my most potent brew to honor Hector’s visit to Wolf Hollow,” Jager said.

  Over the smoky fire, Sasha caught a glimpse of Raider’s dark hair. Females giggled as he made his way over. Raider had rugged good looks and broad shoulders, toned muscles, and a thin, dark bit of scruff over his chin, but he didn’t strut or preen. He never gave any indication he noticed the way in which the opposite sex fawned over him. It happened with such frequency it had probably become like birdsong in the background as far as he was concerned.

  He lifted his chin as he walked up to Sasha and Jager. “Big news,” he said.

  “Indeed,” Jager said, nodding enthusiastically.

  “And you didn’t think to share it with us at the last council meeting?” Raider asked, eyes narrowing.

  The tightening in Sasha’s stomach lessened. At least she hadn’t been singled out completely.

  Jager grimaced and coughed. “No, well, we didn’t want to get everyone’s hopes up.”

  Raider shrugged it off the same way he dismissed the hollow’s single lady shifters. “I will be performing with Alexa then?” he asked in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “That’s right, my boy,” Jager said with a sly wink. He followed it up with a slap to the back, very much like the one he’d given Sasha. “And I hear she’s quite the beauty.”

  Raider gave a blasé nod.

  Usually he performed with Sasha. She’d once, very briefly, considered him as a potential mate before dismissing him as too reserved.

  Sasha couldn’t detect much wit in him, which wasn’t a big surprise given he had Garrick for a father.

  Some might say Sasha lacked zest as well. They’d never seen her and Wolfrik tease each other in private. If only Aden could see the love she had yet to give, that she, too, could laugh and smile if only he’d give her a chance.

  But even now he leaned closer to Lacy and brushed stray strands of hair away from her face.

  Sasha tried to console herself that the council would have never allowed her to take a werewolf for a mate anyway. The elders believed they needed the advantage of pure-blooded pups with their ingrained abilities to thrive in the wild and defend the pack. She would have let down the entire hollow if she put her own interests above theirs. She tried to think of all the reasons it would not have worked rather than the feeling of rejection howling from the depths of her wounded soul.

  If only she’d said something to Aden when she had the chance. She’d never given him any reason to see her as more than a patrol partner.

  What would have happened if she had joined him at the falls earlier? Sasha’s heart sank. What would have happened is the second vulhena might have succeeded in killing Tabor and Olivia. And it wouldn’t have changed the fact that Hector was visiting Wolf Hollow at long last.

  Maybe she’d find him agreeable. Perhaps he was full of humor and warmth. It might even be a relief to choose a mate from another pack. It
could be a fresh start.

  Why then did the thought freeze over her like an arctic wind?

  Bowls clattered together as Francine and her work partner, Amber, gathered them into woven baskets to transport to the river for rinsing off. Francine’s large belly had yet to slow her down as she bustled around the glade.

  When Amber headed toward them, Francine cut her off with a snarl.

  “Garrick’s finished eating. See to his dish,” Francine snapped, sending Amber scurrying away.

  With a triumphant jerk of her chin, Francine marched over and took first Jager’s, then Raider’s bowl.

  Not long after Palmer took Francine as a mate, she had established herself as one of the hollow’s dominant she-wolves. Palmer was the only elder to claim a mate since losing his first mate in the vulhena attack.

  Sasha and Francine had once been friends, but Francine had shifted her alliance to Palmer and turned a cold shoulder to Sasha in the process.

  Francine raised her eyebrows. “Where’s your bowl, Sasha?”

  Sasha glanced down at her empty hands. “I wasn’t hungry.”

  Francine frowned. “Hopefully soon you’ll have a reason to eat a double portion.”

  Jager rubbed his hands together and grinned. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a pure-blooded pup running around.”

  Sasha forced a smile. “Let’s not jinx it before Hector’s had a chance to arrive.”

  Jager’s hand flew up to his mouth. The old coot was as superstitious as he was old-fashioned.

  “You’re right,” he said, wagging his finger at Raider and Francine as though they’d been the ones to talk.

  Raider lifted his eyes skyward before walking off with a swagger that set off another round of swoons from every female he passed. Francine balanced the basket on one hip and placed a meaningful hand on her belly before walking away.

  Through grinning teeth, Jager said, “This is going to be the best full moon ceremony in ages.” He patted Sasha on the shoulder then limped away.

  With nothing better to do, Sasha slumped onto a log and watched the pack members who lingered. They all looked carefree talking and laughing together.

  She loved her pack. She’d do about anything for them, even during moments like these when she felt like an outsider with no one left to turn to for comfort.

  chapter four

  After the fight with Zackary, Tabor was in no mood to join the communal dinner. Good thing he had a friend who preferred a more intimate-style family meal—even better that she considered Tabor part of her family.

  Tabor whistled as he left the glade. The path he followed was well worn and wide enough for three grown shifters to walk side by side. It skirted the Sakhir River then turned away from the rushing water. Tabor went around a bend then another before the trail straightened out. He passed a small pond and the hollow’s gardens, which were flourishing with root vegetables, herbs, and snap peas. The bell peppers and tomatoes were getting bigger with every passing day and would make a welcome addition to the evening stew.

  Once he’d passed the gardens, Tabor entered the hollow’s den. Treehouses and huts sprang into view all around the little clearing, and young couples shared hammocks suspended between trees.

  The couples with children sat around small fires enjoying private family dinners outside their shelters.

  Heidi knelt outside her hut adding several fresh sticks of kindling to a fire she had going in the center of an enclosure made out of rocks. Ever since becoming a mother, she’d kept her black hair shoulder length. She’d once worn it to her hips.

  Before Tabor had a chance to walk up to his friend, he heard a young human growl behind him. Tabor stopped in his tracks and had to tamp down his smile. He turned slowly to face little Amy, who stood with her legs apart, brown shoulder-length hair tangled, and hands on her hips behind him. Dirt smudged her cheeks, which pinched into her eyes when she growled again.

  “Fierce growl you have there, Amy,” Tabor said in approval.

  Amy growled again.

  Her little brother, Eric, ran over from his spot around the large communal fire where a denmate named Melissa was telling stories to the younger children. Once Eric was a few feet away from Tabor he dove onto the ground and walked up to him on all fours.

  “Tay, look. I’m a wolf.”

  “I can see that,” Tabor said with a chuckle. “Couple of wild animals loose in the den.”

  Amy stuck her jaw out and howled.

  “Amy, stop that,” Heidi yelled.

  Amy closed her mouth and scowled in her mother’s direction. Tabor bit back a laugh after he turned and saw Heidi’s exasperated head shake.

  Eric got to his feet and walked beside Tabor. As they approached, Heidi sighed. “Ever since her teeth grew in she does more growling than talking.”

  “Good for her.”

  Tabor set his bow and quiver against the hut. When he turned, Amy and Eric stared at his face.

  “What happened to your lip?” Eric asked.

  Amy pulled Tabor’s arm, eyes lighting up. “Did you battle a vulhena?” she demanded.

  While Heidi took a closer look at Tabor, he pulled his arm away gently and patted Amy on the head then grabbed his bow. “As a matter of fact, I did do battle with a vulhena late this very afternoon.”

  “What happened?” Amy and Eric asked in unison, looking up at him with wide eyes.

  Tabor grinned. “I entered the field south of the glade to do the foraging for the day. First I sniffed around for any lurking monsters.” He hunched over as he spoke. “All was clear . . . or so it seemed. I went to the top of the knoll and shifted, ready for any vulhena or rabid wolf that dared show its ugly mug in my territory. All was quiet, until . . . a vulhena rushed out hissing and screeching!” Tabor jumped up.

  Amy and Eric jolted in place and gasped. Heidi released an exasperated huff and shook her head.

  “What did you do?” Amy asked. “Did you shift and tear out its throat?”

  “Did you bite off its head?” Eric followed.

  “Nope.” Tabor lifted his bow and puffed out his chest. “I shot it, right in the heart.”

  Amy’s mouth hung open.

  Eric clutched his own heart. “Wow,” he said. “That’s better than Melissa’s story about three bears and a girl who eats their porridge.”

  “And then the bears eat her,” Amy added, jumping up and down.

  Eric scowled. “Do not.”

  “Do, too. Nathan told me so. Melissa changes the story for little kids like you so you won’t be too scared.”

  Eric scowled. “I’m not scared.” He turned back to Tabor. “Was there a lot of blood? Was the blood black like the vulhena?”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Heidi said. “You can listen to another story with your friends or help me finish warming dinner for your father.”

  Amy and Eric took one look at each other before running off. Tabor set his bow back down against the hut, taking note of Heidi’s furrowed brows. “A vulhena bloodied your lip, did it?”

  Tabor looked up at the tree line and shrugged. “I shot a vulhena dead today, ask anyone in the pack.”

  “Oh, I believe that,” Heidi said. “It’s the bruises around your face I question. Those were made by Zackary’s fist I’m guessing.”

  Tabor smirked. “You should see his face. I got in some good hits of my own.”

  “Taaaay,” Heidi said, dragging out her pet name for him. When she spoke in that tone, she sounded like a discontented mama wolf.

  “I know what you’re going to say, and you can spare me the lecture,” Tabor said. “I don’t need a mother.”

  “You’re right; you need a mate.”

  Tabor gave a little jolt. This was exactly the subject he’d wanted to broach with his friend. He swallowed. “How does one go about attracting a mate?
”

  Heidi stared at him, and kept staring.

  Tabor’s heart sank. Did she think it an impossible task for a half-breed?

  Before he had a chance to ask, her face lit up and she squealed, clasping her hands together.

  “You have someone specific in mind, don’t you?”

  “Um.” Tabor’s eyes darted from side to side, avoiding her searching gaze.

  Heidi squealed again. “Who is she?” She covered her mouth and leaned forward. “Is it your partner this month? Olivia?”

  Tabor growled. “That annoying hyena? Not a chance.”

  “Camilla?”

  “No.”

  “Kallie?”

  “No.”

  “Trish?”

  Tabor groaned. “I’m not going to sit here while you name every single shifter in Wolf Hollow.”

  “Okay, fine,” Heidi said. Despite her brief pout, she appeared to be having trouble holding back a wide grin. “All the more reason for me to advise you so you can woo this she-wolf quickly and share the good news.” Heidi leaned in, looking from side to side, as though about to share a secret.

  Tabor leaned in closer.

  “Get on patrol with her. If one patrol cycle doesn’t do the trick, try another, and another—as many as it takes. That’s how I fell for Peter. That’s how most shifters form a bond. You start out as partners then become mates.”

  Tabor fisted his hands. “Except I have no control over pairings.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Heidi’s eyebrows jumped.

  Tabor went still. He studied Heidi for several moments before speaking.

  “Do you know something I don’t? Does Jager accept bribes?” Tabor’s heart knocked against his chest with hope. “What does he want?” he asked before Heidi could answer.

  “He’s a hard one to sway,” she said, bobbing her head. “But not impossible.”

  “What could I possibly say, or do, to convince him?”

  Heidi gave Tabor a pointed stare, as though he should be able to figure it out on his own. He stared back just as intently, waiting for her to come out and tell him.