SHADOWS IN THE HOLLOW

Night settled like ink across the valley as we descended from the ridge and into the Hollow. The Moonwell ruins loomed before us—silent, brooding, untouched by time or mercy. Ivy strangled the ancient stone, and the scent of forgotten blood soaked the earth. This was a place the world had tried to bury. But it remembered.

The Hollow was sacred once. Before the wars, before betrayal, before flame turned the altars to ash. Now it was haunted by the bones of what was lost—and possibly, by what still lingered.

Aria walked beside me, quiet but alert, eyes wide with unease. Her scent was laced with tension. Not fear—never fear—but awareness. As if the air itself pressed against her skin, trying to crawl inside.

"This place," she said finally, her voice low. "It's not dead."

"No," I agreed. "It sleeps."

The rest of the pack fanned out behind us. Rhys took the rear, his blade drawn, his senses trained on the dark. I trusted him more than anyone, but even he couldn't track shadows that didn't want to be seen.

We moved through the fallen archways and broken columns until we reached the heart of the ruin—a stone dais carved with moons, cracked and scarred. This was the center of the Moonwell. The stories said the well once ran with silver light, the magic of the goddess herself. Now it was just a hollow ring, dry and cold.

Aria stepped forward. The moment her foot touched the platform, the wind stopped.

Just stopped.

No rustling trees. No chirping insects. Nothing. Even our wolves paused, ears twitching.

Then the stone pulsed.

A low hum vibrated through the air, building into a soft, melodic rhythm, like a heartbeat echoing from deep beneath the earth. Runes long buried by moss flared to life, glowing faint blue under her feet.

She stumbled back, startled. I caught her arm.

"It knows you," I whispered.

Her eyes locked on mine. "What am I?"

I didn't answer. Not because I didn't want to—but because something moved beyond the pillars. Fast. Silent. Watching.

I turned, scenting the wind.

Rot.

Blood.

Not vampire. Not wolf.

Something worse.

Rhys saw it too. His sword was up before I spoke. The others followed. We formed a circle around Aria, shielding her as shapes emerged from the black.

Hollow-eyed. Wrapped in rags. Teeth like glass.

Hunters of the Hollow Sun.

I hadn't seen one in my lifetime—but I knew them from the stories. Human once. Twisted by devotion, corrupted by a hatred so pure it burned away their souls. They had no scent because they had no spirit.

"Stand down," I ordered. "She's under my protection."

The largest stepped forward. His face was a mask of old scars, one eye missing. In his hand, a staff tipped with silver ash.

"The girl carries the Flame. The Flame must be extinguished."

"You'll have to go through us."

He raised his hand.

The ground trembled.

Runes flared again—this time red. Angry. Violent.

Magic. Old magic. Forbidden.

A blast of force knocked Rhys back, sent two of our warriors flying into the stones. I barely held my ground.

Aria screamed.

Not in fear—in pain.

Her body arched, light erupting from her chest, her eyes glowing gold. The power she carried surged out, colliding with the runes, cracking the earth.

The Hollow Hunters recoiled.

I seized the moment. Shifted mid-lunge, my wolf tearing through my skin, massive and furious. Claws met bone, teeth met flesh. The pack followed. We fought in a blur of fury and fire.

Aria's light burst again, sending a shockwave that knocked every Hunter flat. The runes shattered.

Silence fell.

Bodies everywhere. Blood. Smoke. The Hollow stank of battle.

I shifted back, panting, covered in wounds.

Aria knelt in the center of the dais, glowing faintly, eyes dimming. The magic faded.

I went to her.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. But I saw something. When the power came... I saw memories. Not mine. Hers. The Moon Goddess. She was warning me."

"About what?"

"The Queen. The vampire queen. She's not just after me. She's trying to unseal something."

My blood turned to ice.

"What?"

Aria looked at me, her voice barely a whisper.

"The Cage of Nightmares."

We had legends, even among the wolves. A prison buried at the edge of the world. A place where monsters were sealed by divine blood. Creatures that couldn't be killed—only contained. If the queen was trying to open it…

We weren't fighting for territory.

We were fighting for the world.

I helped Aria to her feet. She leaned into me, her body shaking, but her eyes fierce.

"I have to learn to control it," she said. "If I don't…"

"You will," I told her. "I'll teach you. We all will. You're not alone."

Rhys limped over, covered in bruises but alive. "We need to move. The Hollow's compromised. They know we're here."

I nodded. "We go north. To the frost line. The Seers may still be there."

"They won't help you," he warned. "Not after what happened."

"They'll help her."

We left that night, under a moon that wept through clouds. The Hollow behind us, burning with old magic and fresh blood.

As we marched, I glanced back only once.

The ruins were fading into darkness.

But something lingered.

A whisper on the wind.

Not a threat.

A promise.

The war was only beginning.

And Aria... she was becoming more than the key.

She was the fire that would reshape everything.

Even me.