Prologue – Whispers of the Hollow
Black Hollow had secrets.
Not the kind you whispered about in the diner over too-strong coffee. Not the kind that came with polite smiles and averted eyes. No—these were the kind of secrets that lingered in the fog, waited in the shadows, and bided their time until the full moon rose over the mountains.
The town was small, tucked between ridges so steep the sky itself seemed trapped. Its streets were narrow, cracked, and always quiet. Locals spoke little of the disappearances. Of course, the disappearances were known, but only in hushed tones. And always after the sun went down.
A girl went missing one year. Another, the next. Sometimes the bodies were found, broken and strange, clawed and gnawed in ways that no animal should be able to do. Other times, they were never found at all.
People said it was the mountain wolves. People said it was a ritual. People said it was the Hollow itself, taking what it wanted.
But everyone knew the truth, even if they refused to say it aloud.
It wasn’t the town.
It wasn’t the woods.
It was something older. Something alive in the blood of certain people. Something that hunted in silver light, in the pull of the moon.
And when the full moon came, the Hollow howled.
Madeline Dovall had been one of the chosen. She didn’t run far enough. She didn’t fight hard enough. She disappeared on a night when the moon was impossibly bright, leaving behind only her belongings, her journals, and a warning scrawled in trembling handwriting:
“They’re watching. And I don’t know if I can stop them… or if anyone can.”
Now, a year later, the town would have another stranger. A girl with unfamiliar eyes and restless curiosity. A girl who would see the bite marks and the shadows. A girl who would be drawn into the Hollow’s ancient, dark rhythm—one step behind the creatures in the forest, one heartbeat away from a secret she was born to uncover.
Black Hollow waited, as it always did, beneath the silver gaze of the full moon.
And this time, the Hollow was not going to let her go easily.
Chapter One – The New Girl
The mountains didn’t welcome strangers.
That was the first thing Lena Dovall noticed as the bus wheezed into Black Hollow, its cracked windows rattling with every turn. The pine-covered peaks rose like silent sentinels, their shadows spilling over the narrow, winding roads. The air was thin and cold, even in August, and the sky pressed close, as if it had secrets it didn’t want her to see.
She pressed her forehead to the window and watched her own breath bloom against the glass. One summer in a town she’d never heard of, with an aunt she barely knew—and a house that had belonged to her cousin Madeline, the girl who had vanished under a full moon exactly one year ago.
The bus lurched to a stop in front of the general store, its paint peeling like scabs and the wooden porch sagging in the heat. Dust swirled around the tires. A man chopped firewood nearby, his movements slow and deliberate.
A woman leaned against a green pickup at the edge of the lot, cigarette dangling from her fingers, badge glinting faintly.
“You’re Lena,” she said flatly. “I’m Deputy Maynard. Your aunt couldn’t make it.”
“Of course not,” Lena murmured, dragging her duffel from the bus. She balanced a box on top of it—one marked in her cousin’s messy handwriting—and tried not to feel the weight of it in her chest. “Where is she?”
“She said she had a migraine.” The deputy’s eyes lingered on the box. “Is that…?”
“Madeline’s.” Lena kept her voice steady.
Deputy Maynard stubbed out her cigarette and motioned toward her truck. “Get in. I’ll take you to the house.”
The drive was short, winding through narrow streets lined with small homes that had seen better decades. The town was quiet, almost unnervingly so, and every now and then Lena caught the faintest glance from a passerby—a child on a bike, a man stacking firewood, a woman tending to flowers—but no one smiled. Everyone watched.
At the end of a steep road, the house appeared. Two stories, dark green with ivy crawling along the eaves, a porch swing creaking in the breeze. Moss climbed the steps, and the forest pressed close around it, shadows pooling in every corner.
“Door unlocked?” Lena asked as she climbed the steps.
Deputy Maynard snorted. “Locked doors don’t mean much here.” She gave Lena a hard look. “Go on in. Third floor attic. Mind the stairs—they creak.”
Inside, the house smelled like cedar, old books, and something faintly floral—lavender, maybe. The hallway was narrow, walls lined with black-and-white photos of mountains, rivers, and forests. One picture made her stomach twist: a girl standing on a cliff’s edge, hair whipped by wind. It was Madeline, unmistakable, smiling in the sunlight.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” a voice said.
Lena turned to see a woman in the doorway of the kitchen—tall, lean, with dark streaked hair and eyes too light to be comforting.
“I wasn’t,” Lena said. “But then I found the letter in my mom’s things. And the box. I figured… someone should come.”
Her aunt only nodded once. “Attic. Third floor. That’s your room.”
No hug. No welcome. Just the instructions.
The attic was cold, sloped ceilings closing in, a round window looking out at the forest. A single bed, a desk, and a trunk in the corner. Lena dropped her duffel and opened the box.
Inside were old notebooks, a cracked Polaroid camera, a charm bracelet, a locket without a photo—and at the bottom, a leather-bound journal with her cousin’s name pressed into the cover: Madeline Dovall.
Lena ran her fingers over it, hesitating as the house groaned around her. Outside, the wind stirred the trees, and shadows flickered across the slanted walls.
She opened the journal. The first page wasn’t in Madeline’s familiar handwriting. It was someone else’s:
“I don’t remember the first time I changed. Only the pain. Only the moon.”
A chill ran down Lena’s spine. The mountains didn’t welcome strangers. And it was clear now—she had arrived anyway.
Chapter Two – Bite Marks
The first day at Black Hollow High was quiet. Too quiet.
The halls smelled of damp wood and aging lockers, and the fluorescent lights flickered like they were struggling to stay alive. Lena kept her head down, clutching her books, trying to blend in. She wasn’t interested in friends—at least, not yet. She had a box of secrets to sift through, and the last thing she needed was idle chatter about who sat where in homeroom.
And then she saw him.
Rowan Wolfe.
He was leaning against a locker a few feet away, arms crossed, hair black as midnight falling in uneven strands across his forehead. His posture was casual, almost bored, but the faint scars across his collarbone drew Lena’s gaze and refused to let go. Bite marks. Deep, jagged, angry-looking.
She quickly looked away, heart hammering. People like him—people with secrets written in scars—were dangerous. But something about the way he carried himself made her stomach tighten with curiosity.
Rowan’s eyes caught hers. Dark, intense, unreadable. A slow curl of a smile—or maybe it was a warning—spread across his lips. Lena felt heat rise to her cheeks, though she wasn’t sure why.
“New girl,” a voice murmured behind her. She spun, but it was just a classmate brushing past. Rowan’s gaze remained fixed on her, and she realized she hadn’t even introduced herself.
She forced her shoulders back and walked past him, trying to ignore the prickling sensation in the back of her neck, the feeling that every eye in the hall was silently marking her.
By lunch, she was cornered by whispers.
“Did you see her? Lena Dovall?”
“She’s Madeline’s cousin, right?”
Lena froze. Everyone knew her cousin’s name. Everyone remembered what had happened to Madeline. The thought made her stomach churn.
Before she could respond, a tray slid down the table beside her. She looked up to see Rowan.
“Sit,” he said. No smile, no explanation. Just the command in his tone that made her feel like it was safer to obey.
Lena slid onto the bench.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the cafeteria like he expected something—or someone—to strike at any second.
“I—what do you mean?” she asked, though her voice was quieter than she intended.
Rowan leaned closer, lowering his voice. “People in this town… they don’t like strangers poking around. Especially ones connected to the missing.”
Lena’s stomach sank. “You mean… Madeline?”
He didn’t answer right away. He only glanced down at the jagged scars peeking above his shirt. “You’ll learn things fast here. Or you’ll disappear like her.”
The words were a whisper, but they cut sharper than any knife. Lena’s heart thumped wildly. She had come here to uncover the truth about her cousin. And now she realized how dangerous that pursuit might be.
That evening, Lena sat on the porch of her aunt’s house, journal in her lap, reading Madeline’s entries aloud to herself.
“They told me not to go into the woods. But I had to see it again. The howl. The eyes. And Rowan—he was bleeding. He said he didn’t remember. But he’s lying. I know it. I just don’t know why.”
Lena froze on the last line.
Her cousin had written about Rowan.
Her cousin had known him.
And suddenly, those scars didn’t seem accidental. They weren’t just marks of a fight, or of bad luck. They were warnings.
The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of pine and something else—something musky, wild, and raw. Lena shivered.
The night was quiet, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were watching her from the woods beyond the porch.
And deep down, she realized one terrifying truth: she had just begun to step into the darkness Madeline had never escaped.
Chapter Three – Her Cousin’s Box
The attic felt smaller at night. Shadows stretched along the sloped ceilings, twisting into shapes that weren’t there when the sun was up. Lena sat cross-legged on the floor, Madeline’s journal open in front of her, the soft glow of a single lamp illuminating its pages.
She hesitated before lifting the lid of the box again. Inside were the remnants of a life cut short: notebooks filled with sketches, a broken Polaroid camera, a charm bracelet with missing pieces, a locket that had once held a photograph, and the leather-bound journal that had drawn her here in the first place.
Each item seemed ordinary, yet imbued with the weight of what had happened. Lena’s fingers trembled as she picked up a photograph of Madeline laughing beside someone she didn’t recognize.
Rowan.
Her pulse jumped. She had seen him at school, scars and all, and now the journal hinted he’d been close to her cousin. The entries were fragmented, hurried, and full of a fear that gnawed at Lena’s insides.
“I can’t tell anyone. They’ll think I’m crazy. Rowan didn’t remember, but I saw it—the change. The teeth, the eyes. I know the pack is still out there. The Hollow is hungry. I’m scared for myself… for him.”
Lena’s hands shook. The journal confirmed what she had suspected—the disappearances weren’t random. Madeline had been onto something.
But what?
The next morning, she returned to school with the journal tucked beneath her arm. She tried to act normal, blending into the hallways, pretending not to notice the stares from the other students. Everyone knew who she was—the new girl, the cousin of the missing girl.
Rowan found her between classes, leaning against a locker like he owned the space. The scars along his collarbone caught the fluorescent light again.
“You’re looking into her things,” he said, not a question, more an observation.
“I have to,” Lena replied, meeting his dark gaze. “She was my cousin. I need to know what happened to her.”
He studied her, expression unreadable. “Some things you don’t need to know.”
“I already know enough,” she said, biting her lip. “Enough to realize something in this town isn’t right.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. He leaned closer. “You’re like her, you know. Brave. Reckless. Curious. Dangerous qualities in a place like Black Hollow.”
She swallowed. “Then help me.”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced toward the window, toward the forest, where shadows pooled beneath the towering pines.
“They’re still out there,” he finally said. “And they’ve been watching you since you arrived.”
Lena shivered, feeling the truth in his words. She had thought she was uncovering a mystery. But now she realized she was stepping into something far older and darker than she had imagined.
That night, she returned to the attic, determined to read every word Madeline had written. The wind whispered against the windows. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, a sound both comforting and eerie. Lena flipped a page and froze at the entry dated exactly one month before Madeline vanished:
“I don’t know who to trust. The Hollow is alive in ways they will never admit. Rowan… he’s part of it. I saw him shift. I saw the bite marks on his chest. He’s both the hunter and the hunted. And I… I am already too entangled to escape.”
Her stomach turned. Rowan’s scars weren’t a coincidence. They were a warning.
And suddenly, every step she had taken since arriving in Black Hollow felt like a trap closing in around her.
The journal slipped from her fingers, landing open on the floor. Lena bent down to pick it up—and froze as a faint scratching sound came from the woods outside her window.
Something moved just beyond the treeline, watching. Waiting.
And Lena knew, with a certainty that sent chills down her spine, that the forest had not forgotten her cousin.
It had remembered her.
Chapter Four – Full Moon Warnings
The days passed with a strange, suffocating weight. The closer the full moon crept across the calendar, the thicker the tension in Black Hollow became. Stores shuttered early, shutters were bolted, and candles flickered in windows long before sunset. Even the wind seemed hesitant, whispering through the pines instead of roaring.
Lena noticed it everywhere. Whispers followed her through the halls at school. Dogs growled at shadows. Birds refused to sing. And every time she looked toward the forest, the trees swayed as though warning her away—or perhaps, daring her to come closer.
Rowan didn’t make it any easier.
He appeared beside her one afternoon in the empty courtyard, leaning casually against a tree with that same unreadable expression.
“You shouldn’t be outside tomorrow,” he said without preamble.
Lena raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
He met her gaze, dark eyes hardening. “Full moon. Things happen.”
“That’s… vague,” she said, though she felt her pulse quicken.
He shrugged, as if shrugging off danger itself. “Call it a warning. Stay inside. Don’t wander into the woods. Don’t trust anyone who smiles too wide—or growls too soft.”
“And you?” she asked, keeping her voice steady though unease crept through her veins.
He looked at her for a long moment. “Me least of all.”
Lena didn’t know what to make of that. There was a warning buried in the tone, buried in the intensity of his gaze, but she couldn’t tell if it was meant to protect her—or to warn her of him.
That evening, she returned to the attic, notebook in hand, determined to read more of Madeline’s journal. The pages spoke of fear and obsession, of tracking someone—or something—in the forest, of silvered eyes that glimmered in moonlight.
“I tried to follow him, but he knew I was there. He’s part of them… yet I saw hesitation. There’s something in his blood that isn’t entirely theirs. And maybe that’s my only chance.”
Lena closed the journal, pressing it to her chest. Rowan. The pack. Her cousin. Every piece of the puzzle was tangled in one person. And now, with the full moon rising tomorrow, she had a sinking feeling the forest itself would remind her how dangerous curiosity could be.
The next day, Lena stayed inside. She watched the sky from her attic window as the first sliver of the full moon appeared, silver and cold, rising behind the mountains. The air grew thick and heavy. Every shadow seemed to stretch and shift, moving on its own.
That night, she thought she heard something outside—a low, guttural growl, more animal than human. She froze, listening. It stopped as quickly as it started.
Then came a scratching at her window.
Lena’s heart slammed against her ribs. She tiptoed closer, her fingers brushing against the cold glass. The wind rustled the trees, carrying with it a faint, almost imperceptible whisper:
"You shouldn’t be here."
She spun, half-expecting to see Rowan. But he wasn’t there. Only shadows danced across the walls, teasing and shifting, alive with secrets the town refused to speak aloud.
And in that instant, Lena understood something terrifying: the warnings weren’t just for her. They were for everyone in Black Hollow… and she had already stepped too close to the edge.
Chapter Five – The Woods Remember
Lena didn’t sleep that night.
The scratching at the window, the whisper in the wind, and the unshakable feeling of being watched gnawed at her thoughts. She tried to tell herself it was the imagination of someone in a new town, haunted by the story of a cousin who had vanished. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.
By mid-morning, she had made a decision. She couldn’t ignore the journal, the warnings, or the way Rowan’s eyes seemed to follow her in the halls. She needed answers. And the only place to find them was the forest—Madeline’s forest, the one she had written about obsessively, the one everyone said to avoid.
The woods were alive in ways Lena had never expected. Sunlight filtered through the pine needles, casting fractured shadows on the forest floor. The air smelled damp, rich with the scent of pine, earth, and something musky she couldn’t place. Every step she took made the underbrush crackle beneath her boots, and every snapping twig sounded unnervingly loud.
She followed a trail she recognized from the journal, marked with familiar landmarks Madeline had described: a twisted oak, a boulder with deep claw marks, a patch of wildflowers that seemed out of place among the dark forest.
And then she heard it—a low, rumbling growl that didn’t sound entirely human.
Her pulse spiked. She froze. The hairs on her arms stood on end.
“Rowan?” she called softly, though her voice barely carried.
From behind a cluster of trees, he emerged. Not fully human. Not fully wolf. His form shimmered, shifting between the two as if the moonlight itself was pulling him apart. He was magnificent and terrifying, with eyes that glimmered gold and black and fangs that caught the sunlight even in the shadowed forest.
Lena stumbled back, fear tangling with fascination.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, voice low and hoarse, almost a growl.
“I—” Lena swallowed hard. “I had to. I need to know what happened to Madeline. I need to know you.”
He stepped closer, human again, his expression unreadable. The bite marks across his chest were stark, raised, and raw-looking. Lena’s stomach churned.
“I told you to stay away,” he said. “The forest… the Hollow… it remembers. It remembers every person it’s taken. And now, it remembers you.”
Lena’s heart raced. “What do you mean it remembers me?”
Rowan’s gaze drifted to the shadows, to the trees that whispered in the wind. “Madeline… she tried to uncover the truth. She came here. And she didn’t make it out. The forest doesn’t forgive. The Hollow doesn’t forgive.”
A sudden rustling behind her made Lena whirl, but the shadows moved without form. Only the trees remained, swaying, whispering secrets she couldn’t hear.
“You have to leave,” Rowan said, voice urgent now. “Tonight. The full moon—it doesn’t just light the forest. It wakes what’s been sleeping.”
“I can’t just leave,” Lena said, shaking her head. “I need to understand. I need to stop this.”
He exhaled sharply, frustration flashing in his eyes. “You’re like her. Reckless. Curious. You’ll get yourself killed—or worse.”
The growl came again, closer this time, resonating in her chest. The shadows moved like liquid, pooling around them, stretching along the trunks. Rowan’s body shifted, wolfish again, and Lena caught a flash of his strength, his danger, and the strange, magnetic pull that made it impossible to look away.
“Stay behind me,” he warned, and Lena nodded, breath shallow.
Something unseen moved among the trees, eyes gleaming in silver light. Lena realized with a jolt that the forest remembered Madeline—and now, it remembered her.
And Rowan… Rowan was the only thing standing between her and the darkness waiting to claim her.
Chapter Six – Bloodlines
The forest never truly slept.
The full moon hung high, silver and cold, painting the pines in sharp contrast. Lena sat behind Rowan, who crouched low on a fallen log, wolfish instincts flaring as he listened to every whisper of wind, every rustle of leaves. Her heart pounded, echoing the rhythm of something older, something wild in the woods.
“I have to tell you,” Rowan said finally, his voice low and tense, still carrying the rough edge of his other form. “There’s a reason you’re here. A reason the Hollow remembers your cousin—and now you.”
Lena swallowed, gripping her knees. “I’m listening.”
He exhaled, the moonlight catching the scars along his collarbone, the marks that had haunted her since the first day she saw him. “My family… we’re bound to the Hollow. Not all of us survive. Not all of us remain human.”
Lena blinked. “Bound… to the Hollow?”
Rowan nodded. “We’re werewolves, Lena. Not the legends you read about in stories. We’re tied to the bloodline, to the moon, to the forest. Some of us can fight it, some of us… can’t. The pack controls a lot here in Black Hollow, more than anyone will admit. And your cousin—she found out too much.”
Lena’s chest tightened. “So that’s why she disappeared. She was… caught in your world?”
He gave a sharp nod. “She stumbled into the Hollow’s secrets. She saw things she shouldn’t. And now, by coming here, you’ve drawn attention to yourself, too.”
Lena felt a cold spike of fear. “Me? Why me?”
“Because you’re like her,” Rowan said, gaze piercing hers. “Your bloodline… it’s connected. You don’t know it yet, but it’s why you were able to come here, why you can see what others can’t. The Hollow recognizes it. And so do they.”
“They?” Lena whispered, glancing at the forest around them. The shadows seemed to shift with purpose, alive in ways she couldn’t explain.
“The pack,” Rowan said simply. “The ones who rule the Hollow. They’re not merciful. They don’t forgive. And they’re always hungry—for power, for control… for blood.”
Lena’s mind spun. “So… what am I? Part of this… this curse?”
Rowan shook his head. “Not a curse, exactly. A connection. You have the blood, the potential… to survive. But you have to understand it. You have to know how to protect yourself. If you don’t… the Hollow will claim you, just like it claimed Madeline.”
Her hands clenched. The journal, the bite marks, the warnings—they all made sense now. And yet, the pull she felt toward Rowan didn’t diminish, even in the face of danger.
“Then teach me,” she said, voice firm, eyes meeting his. “Show me what I need to know.”
Rowan hesitated, the wolfish tension in his body coiling like a spring. Then he nodded. “I will. But not here. It’s too dangerous. Follow me.”
He led her deeper into the forest, the moonlight barely penetrating the dense canopy. Lena’s senses sharpened with every step—hearing, smelling, feeling things she hadn’t before. It was intoxicating… terrifying… exhilarating all at once.
At a clearing, Rowan finally stopped. He crouched, shifting between forms, and regarded her. “This is the beginning. The bloodline, the pack, the Hollow—it’s all part of you now. Learn fast, Lena. Or the woods won’t let you leave.”
The wind picked up, carrying with it the faint, metallic scent of danger. Lena’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t turn back. She had come too far. She had to know the truth.
And somewhere deep in the shadows, the forest waited, remembering.
Chapter Seven – The Pack Stirs
Sleep had become a stranger.
Ever since Rowan had revealed the truth, Lena’s nights were filled with visions she couldn’t explain. Dreams of shadows moving just beyond the trees, of glowing eyes in the darkness, of fanged mouths opening where human smiles should have been. And always—the constant pull of the moon, silver and cold, calling her into the forest even as she trembled with fear.
When she awoke that morning, she felt exhausted but more alive than ever. Something in the Hollow had sensed her presence. The forest hummed with awareness, and she felt it, like a low vibration in her chest.
Rowan was waiting outside the attic, leaning against his truck, eyes narrowed against the sunlight.
“You feel it too,” he said simply.
“I… I think so,” Lena admitted. “Something’s moving in the woods. I can feel it.”
He nodded, a grim smile on his face. “The pack stirs. They’ve been quiet for weeks, lying in wait. But now… now they know someone new has the blood to see them, to challenge them. They don’t like surprises.”
Lena shivered. “What do they want?”
“Control,” Rowan said, his gaze flicking to the shadows in the distance. “Fear. Power. They’ll test you. And they’ll test me.”
That evening, they ventured into the forest again, moving cautiously along a path Madeline had marked in her journal. The woods were alive with subtle movements—branches bending as though something unseen prowled between them, leaves rustling when no breeze stirred.
“You need to be ready,” Rowan said, shifting into his wolf form, golden eyes blazing. “They won’t hold back.”
Lena swallowed her fear, gripping a silver-tipped walking stick Rowan had given her. It was the closest thing to a weapon she’d ever held.
That night, sleep finally took her, but it offered no comfort.
In her dreams, the pack was everywhere. Shadows stretched into impossible shapes, twisting into figures with glowing eyes. She saw herself running, chased through the trees, branches clawing at her arms. And then she saw Rowan, shifting, fighting, protecting—but still struggling against the pack’s overwhelming numbers.
A voice whispered, almost in her own mind:
"You’re part of this now. You can’t turn back."
She woke with a start, heart racing, body slick with sweat. Outside her window, the moon was high, silver light bathing the forest in an eerie glow. A low growl rumbled from the trees.
Lena’s stomach tightened. The pack was awake. Watching. Testing her.
And deep down, she realized something terrifying: the forest wasn’t just alive—it was waiting for her to fail.
The next day, Rowan met her at the edge of town. His expression was grim.
“They’re moving closer,” he said. “The Hollow has a hierarchy, and the pack is testing the ranks. They’ve felt your blood, Lena. You’ll feel it too.”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“You will,” he said, eyes darkening. “You’ll feel it in your dreams, in your instincts, in your blood. And one day, it might demand more than you’re ready to give.”
Lena looked at him, heart racing. The boy—or wolf—before her was terrifying and captivating all at once. She didn’t know if she could trust him completely, but she knew she couldn’t survive this without him.
And somewhere deep in the woods, the pack stirred, senses sharp, hunger coiling in anticipation. The Hollow was watching.
And Lena’s life was no longer her own.
Chapter Eight – Secrets in the Shadows
The library in Black Hollow was small and dusty, tucked between the bakery and the town hall. Its walls smelled of old paper and forgotten time, and the shelves were stacked haphazardly with books that hadn’t been touched in decades. Lena moved cautiously down one of the narrow aisles, Madeline’s journal clutched to her chest, while Rowan followed behind her, alert and tense.
“They’re watching,” he muttered, scanning the rows of books. “Even here.”
Lena frowned. “Who?”
“The Hollow. The pack. Everyone connected to it.” His gaze flicked to a shadowy corner where the sunlight couldn’t reach. “Even in places you think are safe, nothing is truly hidden.”
Lena swallowed. She had learned quickly that Rowan was serious. Every word he spoke carried the weight of truth and danger.
They made their way to the historical records, searching for anything that mentioned disappearances, the Hollow, or the pack. Lena’s fingers traced the spines of leather-bound books, some so worn the titles had faded entirely.
“Here,” she whispered, pulling a thin volume from the shelf. The pages were brittle, yellowed, and filled with meticulous handwriting from decades past.
Rowan leaned over her shoulder. “What is it?”
Lena flipped through the pages. “Records of missing people… going back generations. And… mentions of something called ‘The Hollow Pact.’”
Rowan’s expression darkened. “Not a legend.”
She looked up at him. “It’s real?”
He nodded slowly. “The pact binds certain families to the forest. Some survive, some… don’t. Your cousin’s bloodline, yours, mine—we’re all connected to it. The pack enforces it, and the Hollow chooses who lives and who disappears.”
Lena’s head spun. The fear that had been gnawing at her since she arrived now settled deep in her chest, sharp and insistent.
“And the townspeople?” she asked. “They just… ignore it?”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. “Some do. Some make deals. Some pretend it doesn’t exist. But no one ever truly escapes. That’s why Madeline vanished. She saw the truth and tried to fight it. The Hollow doesn’t forgive curiosity.”
Lena traced her finger along the page where her cousin’s name appeared repeatedly. “Then why did I come here?”
“Because you have to finish what she started,” Rowan said, voice low and urgent. “You have the blood, the instincts, and maybe the strength to survive where she didn’t.”
She shivered. The words were both a warning and a challenge.
Later that night, they returned to the forest’s edge, the moon high and silver above them. Lena felt the pull in her veins again—the same strange, magnetic call she had felt since stepping foot in Black Hollow.
“You need to trust your instincts,” Rowan said, shifting slightly, his posture alert. “The pack is aware of you now. They’re testing limits, watching how you react.”
“I feel it,” Lena admitted. “Like they’re in my mind.”
“Good,” he said grimly. “You’ll need that. Because they’re not just testing me. They’re testing us. And they won’t stop until they know exactly where you stand—and if you’re a threat.”
A low growl echoed from deep in the woods, vibrating through Lena’s chest. The pack had noticed. They were stirring. Watching. Waiting.
Lena took a deep breath, gripping the silver-tipped stick Rowan had given her. She could feel the pulse of the Hollow beneath her feet, the rhythm of the forest, the legacy of her bloodline stirring awake.
And she knew—there were more secrets waiting in the shadows, more truths to uncover, and more danger than she had ever imagined.
Chapter Nine – Beneath the Full Moon
The full moon rose high above Black Hollow, silver and unyielding, painting the forest in ghostly light. Lena stood at the edge of the trees, Rowan beside her, tense and alert. The air was thick with anticipation, the scent of pine mixed with something darker—raw, wild, alive.
“This is it,” Rowan said, his voice low and serious. “Tonight, the pack tests everything. You. Me. Your blood. The Hollow. Nothing holds back under a full moon.”
Lena swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“You don’t get ready,” Rowan replied, his eyes glinting gold in the moonlight. “You survive. And you fight.”
They stepped into the forest, the ground soft under their feet, shadows stretching and shifting as though alive. Lena could feel it—the eyes watching, the hunger coiling, the ancient power of the Hollow pulsing through the trees. Every step made her pulse race, every sound echoed too loudly in the silence.
A low growl rolled through the forest, vibrating through her chest. The pack had arrived. Shapes moved in the silver light—figures half-hidden in shadows, eyes glowing, teeth gleaming. Lena’s breath caught, but Rowan’s presence beside her gave her courage.
“Stay close,” he whispered. “They can sense fear.”
The first of them emerged, a large wolf-like figure with human intelligence in its eyes. It circled them, sniffing, growling, testing. Lena’s instincts screamed to run, but she forced herself to stay still. Rowan shifted, muscles coiling, and met the creature’s gaze.
“You won’t touch her,” he said, voice firm, commanding.
The creature hesitated, growl low, then receded slightly. More figures emerged, surrounding them in a silent, deliberate circle. Lena felt the pull in her veins again, stronger than ever. Her bloodline was awake. She could feel the forest, the Hollow, the pack—all of it—flowing through her.
Rowan leaned close. “Remember what I taught you. Trust your instincts. Don’t let them see doubt.”
Lena nodded, gripping the silver-tipped stick, feeling a strange surge of confidence. The pack snarled, moving closer, shadows flickering across the clearing like living fire.
Then one of them lunged.
Instinct took over. Lena moved, striking with the stick, feeling it connect with the creature’s flank. A howl split the air. Rowan was beside her in an instant, shifting fully into wolf form, teeth bared, eyes blazing gold. Together, they pushed back, weaving through the circle of predators.
The forest seemed to pulse with power, the moonlight thickening, guiding Lena, feeding her courage. She realized then: she wasn’t just fighting to survive. She was claiming her place, proving she belonged to the bloodline.
After what felt like hours, though it was probably minutes, the pack backed away, vanishing into the shadows, leaving the two of them in the silver-lit clearing. Lena’s chest heaved, muscles aching, heart racing. She had faced the Hollow. Faced the pack.
Rowan shifted back into human form, chest heaving, scars stark in the moonlight. He looked at her, a mixture of awe and warning in his gaze.
“You did well,” he said softly. “Better than I expected.”
Lena swallowed, adrenaline still surging. “What… what happens now?”
He placed a hand over hers. “Now? Now we prepare. The Hollow remembers. The pack remembers. And the forest… the forest never forgets. But you… you survived. And that counts for something.”
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying secrets, warnings, and faint echoes of her cousin Madeline’s voice. Lena shivered, not from cold, but from the realization that her journey was far from over—and that the full moon was only the beginning.
Chapter Ten – Echoes of the Past
The forest was quiet in the morning, deceptively peaceful after the chaos of the full moon. Lena stepped carefully along the trail, Rowan beside her, eyes scanning every shadow. The adrenaline had faded, leaving her exhausted but more alert than ever.
“We need answers,” Lena said, her voice firm despite the lingering tremor in her hands. “I need to know what happened to Madeline—why she disappeared, and what the Hollow really wants.”
Rowan nodded, expression tight. “There are places in the forest even the pack avoids. Old ruins, hidden paths, remnants of the Hollow’s history. Madeline went there. I can show you. But it’s dangerous. Not all echoes of the past are willing to let you leave.”
They followed a narrow, overgrown path deeper into the woods. Twisted roots clawed at their feet, and the canopy overhead blocked much of the light. Lena clutched Madeline’s journal, flipping to the pages that mentioned the “Ritual Stone”—a place her cousin had described in cryptic sketches.
“There,” Rowan said, pointing to a clearing. Stones jutted from the earth in a circle, moss-covered and ancient. The air felt heavier here, thick with energy, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.
Lena stepped forward, tracing the edge of the stones with her fingertips. “This is it,” she whispered. “This is where she… left something behind.”
She opened the journal to the final entries, reading aloud:
“The pack won’t stop me from seeing the truth. The Hollow has rules, old rules, blood rules. I don’t know if I’ll make it back. But if anyone finds this… beware. Rowan… he’s not just one of them. He’s the only one who can guide you through it.”
Lena froze. Her eyes met Rowan’s. “She trusted you.”
He swallowed, looking away. “She did. But it cost her everything.”
As they explored the stones, Lena noticed faint scratches along the ground—tiny, deliberate marks that led to a hollow in the largest rock. Inside, she found an old locket, tarnished but intact. She opened it and gasped: a small photograph of Madeline, smiling nervously, holding hands with Rowan.
“She… she knew him,” Lena murmured, voice catching.
Rowan stepped closer, gently taking the locket in his hand. “She did. And she was trying to protect him… and everyone else. The Hollow can’t forgive curiosity, but she believed someone had to uncover the truth.”
Lena’s stomach tightened. “So the disappearances… they’re tied to this place? To the pack?”
He nodded. “Every person lost in Black Hollow was drawn into the Hollow’s power, tested, claimed… or, in rare cases, survived. Madeline didn’t. But now you’re here, with the bloodline, the instincts, and the will to face it.”
Lena closed her eyes, letting the weight of it settle. The forest pulsed around her, alive with memory and danger. She realized that every step she took from now on would carry the echoes of the past—her cousin’s courage, her mistakes, her final moments.
And deep down, Lena knew she had a choice: succumb to the forest’s shadow, or fight for a truth that had been hidden for generations.
The wind stirred through the trees, whispering secrets and warnings. Lena opened her eyes, meeting Rowan’s gaze. Together, they were more than just survivors—they were the living bridge between the past and what was to come.
The Hollow had remembered her cousin. Now it remembered Lena. And she was ready to face it.
Chapter Eleven – Revelations in the Moonlight
The night air was thick with silver light as Lena and Rowan returned to the clearing by the Ritual Stones. The full moon hung low, bathing everything in an ethereal glow. The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting. Lena felt her heart hammer in her chest, every instinct alert, every sense heightened.
“You said there were things you haven’t told me,” Lena said, breaking the tense silence. “About the pack… about your family.”
Rowan’s eyes darkened, and he exhaled sharply. “There are truths that can’t be softened. And yet… you deserve to know them. If you’re going to survive the Hollow, you need to understand what you’re up against.”
Lena nodded, gripping her silver-tipped stick tighter. “I can handle it. Tell me everything.”
He led her to a large, gnarled tree at the edge of the clearing. Its roots twisted like serpents into the earth, and the bark bore carvings—symbols of wolves, moons, and strange runes that pulsed faintly in the moonlight. Rowan’s voice was low as he spoke.
“My family… the Wolfe bloodline… has been tied to the Hollow for generations. Not all of us were born fully human. Some carry the curse, some the gift. The full moon… it doesn’t just awaken our wolf forms. It awakens the bond to the Hollow itself.”
Lena’s stomach churned. “So… the pack? They’re more than just animals?”
“Much more,” he said. “They enforce the rules of the Hollow, keep balance, punish those who break the pact. And my family… we are both enforcers and protectors. Rowan’s father, my father… they made choices I can’t undo. Choices that cost lives—including Madeline’s.”
Lena’s breath caught. “So… she didn’t just disappear randomly. She was punished?”
Rowan shook his head. “Not punished… tested. And failed. The Hollow doesn’t act out of malice. It acts out of balance. Madeline got too close. Too curious. And it claimed her before she could return.”
A low growl rolled through the clearing. Shadows flickered at the edge of the moonlight, and Lena realized the pack had arrived, silent and watchful. They weren’t here to attack—yet—but their presence was a reminder that danger never slept.
Rowan continued, voice urgent. “You’re different. Your bloodline, your connection to Madeline… the Hollow senses it. That’s why it’s drawn to you. And why the pack is testing you now. They want to know if you’re strong enough, clever enough… worthy.”
Lena swallowed, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her. “And if I’m not?”
He met her gaze, his eyes burning with intensity. “Then the forest will claim you, just as it claimed her. You can’t hide. You can’t run. You can only face it. And that starts tonight.”
The moonlight shifted, casting long shadows across the clearing. The pack’s eyes glimmered like molten gold, observing, judging. Lena could feel the pull in her veins—the bond, the bloodline, the latent power she had yet to fully control.
“This is more than survival,” Rowan said, placing a hand over hers. “It’s about understanding who you are, what you carry in your blood, and how far you’re willing to go to fight for it. The Hollow remembers. The pack remembers. And now… they are remembering you.”
A soft howl rose from the distance, answered by others, echoing through the forest. Lena felt a thrill and a shiver run through her simultaneously. She was part of this world now. There was no turning back.
And in the silver glow of the moonlight, Lena understood the truth Rowan had been trying to prepare her for: the forest, the Hollow, the pack—they were all intertwined with her own destiny.
She tightened her grip on her stick, steeling herself. Whatever came next, she would face it. Because she had to.
Chapter Twelve – The Heart of the Hollow
The forest was alive with silver light, every tree, every shadow vibrating with anticipation. Lena’s breath came in shallow, determined bursts as she followed Rowan deeper into the heart of the Hollow. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of pine, earth, and something ancient—something that had been waiting for her arrival.
“This is it,” Rowan whispered, voice tense. “The center of the Hollow. The place where the bloodline is strongest, where the pack’s power converges. This is where you’ll see the truth.”
Lena’s hands tightened around her silver-tipped stick. Every instinct screamed danger, yet a part of her felt drawn forward, pulled by the pulse of her own bloodline through the forest floor.
The clearing opened before them, a wide circle framed by towering oaks whose gnarled roots twisted like veins into the earth. At its center was a stone altar, etched with symbols that pulsed faintly in the moonlight, resonating with an almost musical hum. Lena’s stomach twisted, a mixture of awe and dread.
“Here,” Rowan said, kneeling beside the altar, “is where your cousin stood, where she tried to uncover the truth. She was close… too close. And it cost her everything.”
Lena knelt beside him, tracing the symbols with her fingers. Energy thrummed beneath her touch, prickling her skin like static electricity. “The Hollow… it’s alive,” she whispered.
Rowan’s gaze met hers, sharp and warning. “It is. And it’s not forgiving. Tonight, you will feel its full power. The pack will challenge you. The Hollow will demand proof of your bloodline, your courage, your will to survive.”
A growl rolled through the clearing, low and resonant. Figures emerged from the shadows—wolf and human forms intertwined, eyes glowing gold, fangs catching the moonlight. The pack had gathered, surrounding them in a deliberate circle, moving silently, testing, sizing up.
“You’re ready,” Rowan murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Trust your instincts. Trust your blood.”
Lena felt it then—a surge of something ancient and powerful coursing through her veins. Her heart pounded in rhythm with the Hollow itself. She raised her silver-tipped stick, energy thrumming through it like a conduit for her newfound strength.
The pack lunged, figures blurring between shadow and beast. Lena moved instinctively, striking with the stick, dodging, weaving, reacting not just with thought, but with instinct. Rowan shifted beside her, a golden blur, teeth bared, guarding and guiding.
She felt the Hollow respond to her courage, bending the energy of the forest to her favor. Branches swayed to shield her, roots twisted to trip attackers, shadows elongated to confuse and protect. Every step, every movement, she felt more connected—more a part of the bloodline than she had ever realized.
Minutes—or hours—passed in a blur of movement, growls, and the pulse of ancient power. Finally, the pack halted, retreating into the shadows, eyes glowing in silent acknowledgment. The Hollow itself seemed to exhale, the energy in the clearing settling, calming. Lena dropped to her knees, chest heaving, exhaustion and exhilaration mingling.
Rowan shifted back into human form, stepping beside her, breath ragged, eyes dark with intensity. “You did it,” he said softly. “You survived the Hollow. You’ve proven yourself. Not many can claim that.”
Lena wiped sweat from her brow, still trembling. “What… what happens now?”
He smiled faintly, a mixture of relief and warning. “Now… you carry the bloodline. You carry the strength. And you carry the memory of those the Hollow claimed. You can protect yourself—and maybe others. But the forest will never forget. The Hollow will never forget. And the pack… the pack will always remember you.”
She nodded slowly, feeling the weight of it all—the past, the danger, and the legacy that was now hers. She had faced the Hollow, confronted the pack, and emerged alive. And though the forest still whispered and watched, she felt a fierce, unyielding strength within her.
The full moon shone overhead, silver and cold, yet for the first time, Lena felt a strange warmth beneath its light—a heartbeat shared between her, Rowan, and the forest itself.
The Hollow had tested her. The pack had tested her. And she had endured.
She was no longer just a visitor in Black Hollow. She belonged.
Epilogue – Moonstruck Hearts
The forest had grown quiet. Not the eerie, watchful quiet of before, but a gentle, almost comforting stillness. The full moon had passed, leaving the woods bathed in the soft silver of dawn. Lena stood at the edge of the clearing, Rowan beside her, the warmth of his presence steadying the lingering tremor of adrenaline in her veins.
“It’s over… for now,” Lena said softly, tracing her fingers along the moss-covered stones of the Ritual Circle.
Rowan shook his head, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. “The Hollow never truly ends. It doesn’t sleep, it doesn’t forget. But you… you’ve earned a place within it. That changes everything.”
Lena swallowed, letting the weight of his words sink in. She remembered the fear, the growls, the eyes in the shadows, and the forest pulsing with a living heartbeat. She remembered the lessons of survival, the taste of adrenaline, and the bond forged in the moonlight. And she remembered Madeline—the cousin who had started it all, whose courage had paved the way for her.
“I understand now,” Lena said, voice steady. “I can’t undo the past… but I can protect the future.”
Rowan reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And you will. You’re stronger than you realize. You’re part of this now—the Hollow, the pack, and… me.”
Her heart fluttered at the admission. Rowan’s gaze was intense, but not just with the raw, wild power of his wolf form. There was something tender there, a bond that went beyond fear, danger, or the pull of bloodlines. Something human, something worth holding onto.
As they walked back toward the edge of the forest, Lena felt the whispers of the Hollow at her back, a reminder that the world was alive, that secrets lingered, and that danger could always return. But for the first time, she didn’t feel powerless. She had faced the darkness, and it had marked her—not as a victim, but as someone who belonged.
They reached the edge of Black Hollow, where the town began and the mountains stretched into the distance. Rowan paused, turning to her with a mischievous smirk.
“Think you’re ready for your first full moon… without me holding your hand?” he teased, though his golden eyes softened.
Lena laughed, a sound light and bright, carrying across the forest and the town beyond. “I think I might be,” she said. “But I’d still like you by my side.”
He chuckled, offering his arm. “You got it, Moonstruck.”
Hand in hand, they stepped forward, leaving the Ritual Stones behind but carrying the forest’s memory within them. Lena knew the Hollow would always call, the pack would always watch, and the past would always echo. But she was no longer afraid.
She was home.
And in Black Hollow, under the gaze of the moon, Lena’s heart beat strong, fierce, and unbroken—moonstruck, but hers entirely.
The End