Mated to the Hollow Wolf

ELENA’S POV

The scent of blood was sharp in the air, the cold prickling and paralyzing. Even as I huddled close to my mother, fear crawled heavily beneath my skin with a drag.

A guttural howl echoed from the woods- something between a death call and a warning. I still didn’t know which of these had woken me, but there was hardly any time to figure it out.

“Don’t make a sound,” Mother whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of war outside. Along with my heart, the cabin we lived in trembled from the impact. Father was nowhere to be seen, and from the hopeless look in her eyes, I realized I was the only one left.

Plunging me against herself, mother scurried over to the north wall. It had a gaping crack which granted a vivid view of outside. Courtesy of the full moon, the night was eerily bright. Looming shadows danced across frost-covered trees; closer and closer till their scent filled the air. They moved with the hunger to kill- to torch down anyone in their path.

The Pack was coming, and Goddess, I could feel their anger.

Holding my breath, I peeped through the crack in the wall. There were figures, blurred between wolf and man, having eyes the glow of molten larva. Their paws paved silently through the thick layer of snow as they neared the cabin. We were greatly outnumbered. If anything, our warrior wolves stood no chance.

My eyes rested on a figure right in the center of their army and my blood ran cold. The Hollow Wolf.

He walked on all fours, his frame massive and cloaked in darkness. Unlike the others, he had dark pits for his eyes. He was their leader; it explained their reverence, parting like water at his sides as he neared our cabin. Something about his aura made me forget my fear. One could hardly feel anything except for the suffocating presence he carried about like a plague.

Why they called him the Hollow Wolf, I wasn’t sure. But many believed it was because he had no heart.

“Elena, look at me,” Mother’s hands gripped my jaw, nudging my attention from the scene outside. Watching the tears in her eyes shattered something in me, but she tried her best to stay resolute. “Whatever happens now, you run. Do you hear me? Run and don’t look back.”

My chest tightened, lips already prepared with an objection. Except, I wasn’t given a chance.

Splinters travelled through the air as the cabin door shattered. The Hollow Wolf stood on the threshold, his massive form filling the doorway. For a moment there, those pitch-black eyes locked onto me. And I froze.

“Run, Elena!” Mother shoved me towards the back door. If I weren’t so stiff in place, I might have fallen over. “Run!”

Sadly, I couldn’t move. I was pinned down by his mere gaze; one he never took off. The Hollow Wolf stepped inside now, his lips curling back in a crude fashion. It revealed sharp teeth, glistening white against his dark fur. Coupled with that, a low growl rumbled deep in his chest.

Mother was up on her feet now though her knees buckled visibly beneath her. The conviction she built was breaking. And though I was only seven, I knew what it was like.

Suddenly, a figure barreled into the cabin before the wolf could strike. He was covered completely in armor. Moving with lightning speed, he slashed at the Hollow Wolf with a silver blade.

Even for the beast, silver against flesh was a hard blow and the air was soon filled with sounds of its snarls. Along with the scent of blood.

“Elena, now!” The man yelled loud enough it cut through the chaos.

With the Wolf in undeniable pain, my legs finally obeyed. I bolted through the back door, regretting the snow against my bare feet at once. Before I’d resolved to go back in, the soldier surged after me and heaved me into his arms.

The race was relentless, fueled by nothing but the need to live. The raging howls of war dwindled behind us with the distance. But no matter how many times I looked back, mother had not made it out yet. Her buckling knees had left her unable to move- stuck helplessly in our home with a beast for a companion.

It wasn’t until we made it up the mountain that I understood she wasn’t coming. For if there was one thing I heard about the Hollow Wolf, it’s that he never left his spoils behind.

***

Thirteen years later;

I bolted upright in my bed, my chest heaving with want for air. Sweat was slick on my skin, fear gripping my joints. Save for the sound of my beating heart, the small apartment was heavy with silence, the room thick with darkness. Yet, somehow, one could still hear them- the howls, the snarls as well as the crashing of the cabin door as splinters caved into the air.

The Hollow Wolf.

I raised a trembling hand to wipe my sweat, but tears came back with it. Tears I hadn’t realized were there before. One just had to be cursed to relive a nightmare each night for the past thirteen years. And every time it happened, the fear was as good as new. Organic and churning at my gut from the inside.

I could still feel the weight of his presence, the heat of his breath as he stalked right into that cabin. The way his hollow eyes promised death- or worse- an entire life of the same dreams, always made me shudder. Everything had been the same.

Sucking the chilling air, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rose to my feet. For a moment there, the world spun around me, the wood cold beneath my feet. Summoning control, I padded through my dimly-lit apartment and headed for the kitchen.

It was all a dream, I convinced myself. The Hollow Wolf was long gone, nothing but a figment of my traumatized mind I kept holding onto because I was afraid he’d return.

The overheard light was harsh as I flicked on the switch- blinding and resuscitating me from my slumber. I helped myself with a glass of water, but even that wasn’t enough to quench the drought in my gut.

I caught sight of my reflection in the window above the sink. My hair was a tangled mess, my amber eyes still wide with residual fear. But it wasn’t the fear that unsettled me the most- it was the flicker of something golden in my irises. There one second and gone the next.

Not again.

My fingers grew pale as I gripped the edges of the sink and counted my breaths. For so long, I had control; Lucas had taught me that. Having saved me from the Hollow Wolf and raised me thereon, he figured it would be safer to suppress my nature and pass as human.

But lately, it was getting harder.

I could feel my wolf deep inside of me, clawing eagerly to reach the surface. Eyes closed, I relived the cycle. It lingered, tore my insides with heart-wrenching pain and then just simply…vanished. Back into nonexistence.

My phone buzzed on the counter, jolting me from my thoughts. Grateful for the distraction, I grabbed it, noting an SMS from Joey, my manager at the diner.

YOU’RE LATE AGAIN, he said. THIRD STRIKE. IF YOU’RE NOT HERE IN FIFTEEN, DON’T BOTHER COMING.

I sighed, despaired. But hey, the world didn’t stop for my nightmares or existential crises. Plus, if I were to pick between a nagging boss and a black-eyed wolf, I’m pretty sure I was going for the one not likely to bite my head off.

I went through my daily ritual of sweatshirt over plain jeans, tugging my hair into a messy bun afterwards. Soon enough, I was surging out my front door and into the night.

The diner was only ten minutes away on foot. The air carried the bite of winter, every shadow stretching on much longer than it should have. Perhaps it was just me, but tonight, the streets felt heavier, quieter. Night shifts; I dreaded them.

Shaking the feeling off, I stepped through the glass doors of the diner, the familiar smell of fried food and coffee wrapping me into its warm embrace.

“Elena!” Joey must have been waiting specially for me behind the counter. “Table four’s been sitting for ten minutes. Move it!”

“Yes, sir.” I muttered, somewhere between tying my apron and grabbing my notepad.

Except, as I faced the man at table four, my motion ceased.

Dressed in a crisp, black suit, he exhumed an aura unlike anything I’d ever felt. His golden-colored eyes were piercing, dark hair slicked back. With a wary gaze that swept all over the diner, he looked like a walking dream- pulled right out of the pages of some fantasy novel.

Those eyes.

My wolf stirred- a faint, unfamiliar sensation I had never felt. Before I could make meaning out of it, his gaze landed on me and I felt a wave of irresistible warmth course through me.

Mate.

The word came unbidden, a whisper from the depths of my soul. I gripped harder around my notepad while the rest of the world seemed to vanish around him. My heart raced, pulse quickening in ways that had nothing to do with fear.

Given the bewilderment in his eyes, he felt it too.

This couldn’t be.

DOMINIC’S POV

The place was quiet, hushed conversations here and there blending into a low murmur. Glasses clinked, metal chaffed and the lingering smell of bacon consumed the air. My looming gaze scanned the place, waiting for something to happen. Anything at all to justify the strange hunch that brought me here tonight.

It had come as an irresistible pull as I strode past the diner. A sudden yearning for the huffs and grimes of the place. While I couldn’t quite place what exactly the gnawing feeling was, I’d given into the impulse to walk in.

I took a seat in a booth at the farthest corner of the room- a strategic position that granted me the perfect view of every activity. It allowed me keep my back to the wall and my gaze on every entrance. For a while, customers merely flooded in and out the doors in an almost maddening pattern, the aroma in the air shifting carefully from bacon to salad and bacon again.

I wished I could say these details interested me e