Wolf Hollow (Wolf Hollow Shifters, Book 1)

by Nikki Jefford

  Raider dropped to the ground and shifted, followed by Emerson, Jordan, and Hudson. They took off at a run up the trail. Aden’s brows pulled together as he looked back at Tabor and Sasha.

  “Do you need any help?” His words were spoken kindly, but his offer made Tabor’s nostrils flare.

  “We’re fine,” he snarled.

  Aden frowned. Hair sprouted over his body as he shifted into a werewolf. He still had a human look about him, especially when he stood on two feet and stared a moment longer in Sasha’s direction. Before Tabor could snarl at him again, Aden turned and walked on his hairy hind legs to the trail.

  As soon as they were alone, Tabor yanked Sasha against his chest and squeezed her against him. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”

  “You saved me,” Sasha murmured, her head resting over Tabor’s heart. “You saved the hollow.”

  “I used magic,” Tabor said with a grimace. Somehow it felt like cheating. When he’d seen the vulhena go after Sasha he’d wanted to rip them apart with his bare hands, not stand safely out of reach waving his hands in the air.

  “I don’t care how you did it,” Sasha murmured. “You saved us all.”

  chapter nineteen

  Caked in dried blood and dirt, Sasha made her way up the bluff trail. Tabor followed her. The shock of the attack had a numbing effect that had yet to wear off. Howls chorused from the forest beyond the bluff, more pack members arriving to join the fray. They would have been too late if not for Tabor; Sasha would have been overtaken. She’d be dead.

  The howling died off. As Sasha crested the bluff she saw wolves shifting left and right. Camilla, Rosalie, and Olivia stared wide-eyed at the valley below, pushing their hair back as they chattered anxiously. Zackary paced the bluff nearby, shoulders tense. Even Garrick was there. He must have shifted as Sasha appeared in view. He stormed to the bluff’s edge, glanced down, and spun around.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “Vulhena attack,” Hudson supplied.

  Garrick’s nostrils flared. “I can see that. Who killed them?”

  “We all did,” Raider said, stepping forward and jutting his chin out. “Tabor, Aden, Emerson, Jordan, Hudson, Sasha, and I.”

  Garrick looked at the valley then his son again. “Seven of you killed an entire horde of vulhena?” he asked incredulously. “That’s impossible.”

  Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “The important thing is they’re dead.”

  Raider sniffed his agreement.

  Slamming his foot in the dirt, Garrick insisted, “I want to know how you did it.”

  “Tabor cast a spell over them,” Emerson said with a shrug.

  Garrick made a sound that was half gurgle, half growl.

  “What?” Emerson asked. “It was incredible. The vulhena don’t stand a chance against us now. The hollow is safe.”

  A guttural snarl arose. This time the sound coming from Garrick’s lips was all growl. “Safe?” he challenged, eyes creasing at the edges as they pinched together. “Our pack has never been in more danger.” His arm shot forward, finger pointing at Tabor. “If the half-wizard can take out sixty vulhena with his magic, he can take out our entire pack.”

  Emerson’s eyebrows furrowed. “But he’s a pack member,” she said in confusion.

  It was a good thing Sasha wasn’t a witch, otherwise she would have been tempted to pitch Garrick off the edge of the bluff.

  Garrick’s spine stiffened. He looked from Raider to Sasha. “I’m calling an emergency council meeting the moment we get back to the hollow. In the meantime, I need someone to keep an eye on Tabor at all times.”

  Sasha pressed against Tabor’s side, grasping his arm. “That’s my job,” she said.

  “Zackary! You watch him. You stay on him like a flea,” Garrick ordered, ignoring Sasha.

  She threw a challenging glare at Zackary, but he had inched back rather than forward, face gone pale.

  “No way,” he said. “He’s already used sorcery on me before. You watch him.”

  Garrick’s eyes flashed. “I am your elder and I’m giving you an order.”

  Sasha lifted her shoulders. “I, too, have the authority of an elder, and I’m telling you to back off, Garrick.” Her lips drew back.

  Pure malice filled Garrick’s eyes as he took a step forward. Panic surged through Sasha as she felt Tabor stiffen beside her. She couldn’t allow him to strike down an elder, but she couldn’t expect Tabor to stand aside, either, not if he felt threatened or protective on her behalf.

  She had little choice but to act first. As Sasha crouched to shift, Raider rushed forward, once more coming between her and his father. He spread his arms wide.

  “Can we save the bloodbath for another time?” Raider demanded, lowering his arms slowly. “We have more important matters to attend to. Right now Sasha and I make up council majority, and I second her order to back off, Garrick.” He took a step toward his father, towering above him by a full head, legs planted wide and hands on his hips, the muscles on his arms flexing.

  Aside from a vein that pulsed in his neck, Garrick kept his place.

  “Good,” Raider said, swiveling around. “Now I need everyone to gather kindling and take it down to the valley. We’ll build several pyres and burn the vulhena on them. I don’t want to see their stinking carcasses come morning.” When his statement was met with silence, he bellowed, “Get to it!”

  Zackary was the first to jump to action, striding for the woods, likely relieved he’d been spared from guard duty over Tabor. His friends trotted after him. A twig snapped near Sasha as Jordan broke a long piece in two.

  Camilla led her friends toward the woods, not bothering to lower her voice. “Did you see the way Raider took command? Natural-born leader. He’s mate material all the way.”

  Rosalie laughed. “What about your sisters?”

  “They better stay away from him!”

  “At least Jordan’s not interested,” Olivia said. “Then you’d have to fight off three sisters. I’d worry about Emerson the most. Firstborn. She probably thinks she has first choice.”

  Camilla made a snarling sound. “The only reason Emerson’s showing interest in Raider is to piss me off, and Sydney’s nothing but a copycat. She wants what I want. Always has. Well, big sis and little sis are going to have to back off.”

  If Sasha weren’t so furious at Garrick, she might have found mild amusement in the mating games. Instead, she stood rooted to the ground, clutching Tabor as though a gust of wind might sweep him from her fingers.

  Although he had yet to speak, Sasha could already read the expression in Tabor’s eyes. The anger was understandable; it was the hurt she couldn’t bear. He’d risked everything to save the hollow, and now Garrick wanted to kick him out.

  Well, he couldn’t send Tabor away. She wouldn’t let him, and there were plenty of others who would stand beside her. But that still didn’t temper the injustice of it or her anger, which burned as hot as the funeral pyres they were about to light.

  Tabor’s growl jarred Sasha’s attention to Wolfrik who blustered to her side, eyeing the scene with a scornful smile.

  “And to think I thought I was returning to safety.” His lip curled. “Jager’s filled me in about vulhenas sneaking into the hollow, even maiming a pack member, and now this.” He jutted his chin forward.

  “Then it’s a good thing you came back.” Sasha didn’t hide the bite from her tone. Wolfrik didn’t get to leave then return without an explanation and expect to stand around criticizing them. They’d done their best to survive—without his help. Sasha’s chest lifted. “The full moon’s coming up. You should ask Jager to put you back on patrol during the next pairing. Maybe that will help the hollow meet your safety standards.”

  Wolfrik snorted with disgust. “That simple is it, Sasha? Put me back on duty and act like everything’s okay
?” He stepped in front of her so suddenly she flinched. Tabor gripped her hand and growled in warning, but she felt trapped in Wolfrik’s wintry stare. “I think we both understand what our true duty is to the pack.” His gaze slid between Sasha’s legs.

  Before she could blink, Tabor released her hand and shoved Wolfrik back with both palms.

  “Stay away from my mate,” he snarled.

  The nearest shifters dropped their sticks and gathered round, forming a loose circle around them.

  “Your mate? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, half-breed,” Wolfrik snarled back. “I guess the hollow really has fallen into desperate times for a pureblood to even consider a mangy mongrel like yourself.”

  “Stop!” Sasha yelled, but it was too late.

  Tabor lunged forward, fist flying toward Wolfrik’s face, and punching air as Wolfrik easily sidestepped him, grasped his shoulders, and threw him to the ground.

  A cry rose in Sasha’s throat as Tabor landed on his knees.

  He staggered to his feet, clearly straining against the fatigue of taking down sixty vulhena. Fists tightening, Tabor crouched, closely assessing Wolfrik, as though learning from his first mistake of blindly attacking.

  Wolfrik merely laughed.

  “You’ll need sorcery to take me down, half-breed.” Wolfrik spread his arms and circled around, taking in the crowd, lifting his chin in acknowledgement. Sunlight blazed over his broad shoulders, spotlighting the angry red scars cutting across his torso. Smiling at the attention, Wolfrik beat a fist against his chest. “When it comes to brute strength, no one stands a chance against ol’ Cujo.”

  Sasha’s heart lurched into her throat.

  Cujo. Breeding pens.

  “Lucky dog gets all the best bitches.”

  She stumbled, arms thrashing at her sides to catch hold of a steadying hand that was no longer there. Even if she’d had someone to cling to, it wouldn’t have helped as the ground opened up beneath her trembling legs to a dark, endless pit of horror. She wanted to scream, to stop the two shifters from fighting, but she was choking on hot, suffocating air.

  Hudson burst through the shifters, gaping at the scene.

  “Back off, Wolfrik,” he said. “Tabor just took down an entire horde of vulhena.”

  Wolfrik’s eyes narrowed.

  Garrick strode over with a smirk on his lips.

  “Boys, let’s not antagonize our long-lost pack mate.”

  Hudson huffed, a look of disgust covering his tanned face as he looked from Wolfrik to Garrick.

  When Garrick stepped beside Wolfrik and lifted a hand to place on his shoulder, Wolfrik stepped away, making the elder’s hand arc awkwardly through the air. The smile vanished from Garrick’s lips.

  “No show this afternoon, folks,” Wolfrik announced. “Maybe another time.” His brows jumped and eyes gleamed before he pivoted on his heel and stormed for the forest, getting onto his hands and knees and shifting before dashing into the woods.

  They all gaped after Wolfrik, including Sasha. The way he thundered away reminded her of the time he’d rushed into the woods three years ago—right before he’d disappeared.

  “Why are you all still standing around?” Garrick demanded. “Pick up those sticks and get back to work.”

  As the shifters dispersed, Garrick hot on their heels, Sasha cast a forlorn look at the trees that had swallowed Wolfrik up.

  No one inside the hollow could begin to imagine what Wolfrik had been through. None of them had spent any time in that room with those humans and heard their hateful words. Those few moments had been nauseating and Wolfrik had been imprisoned by those men for nearly three years.

  Sasha saw past the angry shifter who had just made a scene. Memories of Wolfrik as a young boy flashed back to her. Racing him across the valley; springing out to scare him from the bushes; swimming and splashing one another at the falls and lake.

  Nature was all they’d ever known. They’d been born wild, apart from the destructive forces of mankind and their sadistic pursuits.

  She hadn’t followed him that day they laid their parents to rest. If she had, she might have stopped him from running headlong into a terrible fate. She wouldn’t let him storm off a second time without making sure he was okay.

  She spun around to face Tabor, a moment of guilt twisting inside her gut when she saw the anger and wounded pride flickering in his eyes. Wolfrik had a head start and she didn’t have time to explain.

  “I’ll be right back.” As soon as the words left her lips, she ran after Wolfrik into the forest, entering at the same place she’d seen him storm in.

  Once the trees shaded her, her hands and knees touched earth and she shifted then took off down the trail, sniffing the air for Wolfrik’s scent. It didn’t take long to pick up. He’d headed along the trail leading toward the Forest of the Ancestors.

  Nose to the ground, Sasha followed the path as it neared the dense wood.

  Sasha sniffed the air and ferns he’d brushed against on the path. She picked up her pace, slowing when his scent left the path, lingering above the rich earth that sloped upward into a dense mound of moss-covered bark, rotten stumps, and bushy ferns.

  She found him shifted back to human form, crouched naked behind a thick fallen log. As she shifted beside him, thoughts and emotions flooded her like the Sakhir River during the spring rains, loosening tangled memories from deep inside her mind.

  Before she could say anything, Wolfrik stood and stretched, his body magnificent despite the scars. If anything, they made him look more mighty.

  Sasha remained seated where she could lift her knees and cover herself somewhat. Nudity among shifters was second nature, but Wolfrik made her uneasy.

  His gaze flicked down to where she sat huddled and a wolfish smile appeared over his lips.

  “What’s the matter, Sasha? Surely, you’re not feeling shy about being naked, deep in the woods, alone with me.” His grin widened. “Not when I’ve had you on your hands and knees—and paws—hundreds of times. Or is that what you’re afraid of? That you’ll be tempted to leave that half-breed and bend over for a real wolf?”

  Refusing to let Wolfrik intimidate her, she got to her feet and faced him defiantly. “I know you better than anyone, and I’m not afraid of you.” Her chin lifted. “But I will bite off a finger if you ever grab me again.” A smile twitched at the corner of her lips.

  Wolfrik shook his head. “Same old, Sasha. Steadfast and true.”

  “And still your loyal friend,” she added, taking a step closer, searching his eyes. “It’s just the two of us now. Tell me what happened after you left Wolf Hollow.”

  Wolfrik stared back at her then looked away. “You’re better off not knowing.” He turned away, but Sasha followed him, keeping their conversation face-to-face. No more hiding from the past.

  “I know about the fights and the”—she swallowed—“breeding.”

  Wolfrik’s upper body jerked. “How?”

  Sasha’s tongue felt thick between her teeth, words sticking to the roof of her mouth, clogging her mind and throat. She hadn’t told anyone about the threats those men had made inside that room. She hadn’t shared a single word they said, not even to Tabor. She’d never wanted to recount such a despicable conversation. The humans had violated her with mere words, shaming her with their sick plans.

  Wolfrik stepped up to her, close enough to share breath. He reached for her then stopped himself, apparently remembering her earlier threat. His shoulders drooped and arms hung at his sides.

  “You know you can tell me anything, Sasha.”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  Her eyes went out of focus and she began speaking in a far-off voice. “Last month four of us went into the suburbs for supplies. It happened so fast. We split up and I went into a house and filled up my pack—then there were hu
mans surrounding me. It’s like they’d appeared from thin air and were rushing at me out of nowhere, pointing their guns and threatening to shoot me if I shifted.”

  Wolfrik’s growl startled her out of her story. She blinked and watched his jaw clench as he ground his teeth.

  “They wanted Aden because of his size. I think they cornered me in the house to bait him, but he crashed in through the roof and we all took off.” Sasha took a deep breath. “What I never told anyone is that the humans wanted me too. They wanted to breed me.”

  Wolfrik’s vicious snarl scared several small birds out of a nearby tree. They took off for the sky squawking.

  “Did they lay a finger on you?” he demanded.

  She shook her head. “They didn’t have time, and they seemed to be saving me for a male they called Cujo.”

  Wolfrik sucked in a breath and took a step back. He hung his head and his body shook the slightest bit.

  Sasha’s heart beat wildly in her chest, focus now clear and sharp as a hawk’s. “Just now, on the bluff, you called yourself Cujo. Did the humans get you? Name you? Force you to fight and breed?”

  Wolfrik’s head lifted slowly. Sasha held her breath, needing to know the truth and dreading it at the same time.

  “Yes,” he said, barely a whisper.

  She choked back a sob, determined not to fall apart in front of her friend, but tears streamed down her face, unstoppable. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the worst.

  “How did they get you, Wolfrik?”

  Wolfrik balled his fingers into fists and stared at the treetops.

  “That cursed day.” He bit out the words. “After seeing our parents’ remains ripped to pieces then covered in dirt beneath the trees, I needed time alone, away from all this. So, I went to the wasteland—a place as barren as my soul that afternoon. I thought the distance would help clear my head, but once I reached the suburb, I decided to turn right back around. I needed you, Sasha. I needed my best friend and soulmate.” Wolfrik took a shuddering breath before continuing. “But before I could return, two groups of men rushed out from behind the houses and surrounded me with their guns.” Wolfrik kicked a thick chunk of fallen tree limb off the ground, sending it crashing through the bushes. He stared after it a moment before continuing. “In my grief, I let my damn guard down. Same as with you, they threatened me with their fucking guns and kept them pointed at me the whole march back. At night they forced me into deep pits they’d dug previously at campsites along the way. They had at least two guns on me at all times. After three days of walking, we reached their dwelling beyond the city and I was taken to a compound, an old jail one of the urban shifters later explained to me, and locked me behind bars. They let me out to train and keep in shape for the fights. The humans loved watching shifters fight. It’s the only time they allowed us to turn into our wolves. I resisted at first but quickly learned I had to do what was necessary to survive.” Wolfrik ran a finger absently along the ridge of a scar on his torso.