Chapter 118: The Hollow
The air in the war room was thick with tension, the flicker of torchlight casting long shadows on the ancient stone walls. Damian paced like a caged beast, his shoulders taut, golden eyes blazing with a fury held barely in check. Isla sat nearby, her fingers resting protectively over the slight curve of her belly, the only evidence of the miracle growing within her. The power inside her hummed louder now, restless, surging, alive.
Lucia was the first to break the silence.
“We underestimated what we were dealing with,” she said. “Whatever Vincent is after, it’s not just Brienne or the child. It’s something deeper.”
Damian stilled, his head snapping toward her. “What do you mean?”
Rohen, standing beside her, spoke before she could answer. “We found ruins in the northern territory. Older than anything tied to the wolf lineages. The markings… they speak of an ancient bloodline, one born from both the moon’s grace and something far older. Something buried.”
Isla frowned. “The prophecy.”
Lucia nodded grimly. “It wasn’t just about power. It was about awakening. And Vincent… he’s not acting alone.”
A chill swept the room. Damian growled low in his throat. “Who is helping him?”
Lucia hesitated. “They’re not wolves. Not even shifters. They call themselves the Veyra.”
Rohen looked at her sharply. “I thought they were a myth.”
“They were,” Lucia said. “Until they weren’t.”
Alaine, just returned from the field with Leo, stepped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide. “There’s movement near the eastern watchtowers. But it’s not rogues. It’s something… wrong. Our scouts didn’t return. One managed to shift long enough to send a signal before it was cut off. I saw the smoke.”
Leo followed close behind, a blade strapped to his back and tension in every muscle. “The trees are dying in their path. Whatever’s coming isn’t natural.”
Damian looked to Isla, but she was already rising, her expression hardened.
“They’re coming for me.”
“No,” Damian said, stepping to her. “They’re coming for us. For the child.”
Lucia took a breath. “The Veyra believe the bloodline your child carries is the key to reviving something ancient, something long buried beneath the old forest.”
Rohen’s jaw clenched. “You mean the Hollow.”
Leo looked between them all, confusion in his furrowed brow. “The Hollow? What the hell is that?”
“A prison,” Lucia said. “Or it was. Sealed by the first alphas, guarded by the moon’s chosen. The Veyra were banished there centuries ago after they tried to enslave the shifter clans. They feed on power, corrupt it. Your child… is both the lock and the key.”
Damian’s rage hit like a storm. “Then we make sure they never touch her.”
Suddenly, the floor beneath them trembled, dust falling from the beams above. A low rumble rose from the earth, as though the world itself groaned.
Rohen grabbed a dagger from his belt. “They’ve already begun.”
Isla steadied herself, one hand clutching Damian’s arm. “We need to go to the source.”
Lucia shook her head. “You’re not strong enough yet.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Isla said. “If I don’t face this, if I don’t confront whatever’s inside me, they’ll use it. I feel it, Lucia. The magic inside me… it’s waking.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Damian nodded. “We go together.”
But Alaine stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “No. You and Isla stay here. Protect the child. I’ll take a squad north with Rohen and Leo. We’ll scout the Hollow and buy you time.”
“No,” Damian snapped. “I don’t split my forces.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Alaine said, holding his gaze. “We all have roles to play. This one is mine.”
Lucia placed a hand on Isla’s shoulder. “And you need to learn to use what’s inside you. Before they do.”
Isla’s eyes drifted to the glowing orb that pulsed faintly on the strategy table, a relic from the Seer’s vault. It had shown her glimpses before. Pain. Fire. A forest split by shadow. But now… she saw something else.
A long and bone-white hand, appeared, reaching from the heart of the Hollow.
Calling her name.
She gasped, jerking away.
Damian caught her. “What did you see?”
“Someone’s already opened part of it.”
“Vincent?” Alaine asked.
Isla shook her head, trembling. “No. Someone worse.”
Lucia turned, her voice barely a whisper. “Then the true war has already begun.”
As the war room erupted into motion, and preparations surged into chaos, Isla remained frozen for a breath too long. In the vision… the hand had not only called to her.
It had looked like hers.
Only older and twisted, as if some version of her had already walked the path and lost.
She turned to Damian, voice trembling. “What if it’s not just the child they want? What if… it’s me?”
Damian held her gaze, fire blazing in his. “Then let them come. I will bury every last one of them before they lay a finger on you.”
Outside, the sky had turned red. A crimson twilight that bled into the land like a warning or a promise.
The Hollow stirred and deep in the forest, a pair of silver eyes opened for the first time in a thousand years.