Chapter 3
954 Words
Shadows of the Hollow
Elara awoke drenched in sweat, her sheets twisted and damp beneath her. The moonlight filtered through the slats in the wooden shutters, casting silver bars across her small room. Her heart pounded, echoing in her ears like the beat of distant drums.
The dream had felt too real.
A forest. Her mother’s voice. And the sensation of running, always running — from something just out of sight. Red eyes in the dark. A whisper she couldn’t understand.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. The wolf inside her stirred uneasily, restless but not aggressive. Since the Alpha’s Circle had spared her, Elara had been placed in a small cabin on the edge of the pack’s main settlement — watched, but not imprisoned. Tolerated, but not welcomed.
Kael hadn’t visited since the trial. Not that she expected him to.
She rose, stepping quietly across the wooden floor. Her fingers brushed the old satchel that had been returned to her — the only possession from her mother’s things. She hadn’t looked inside yet. Her stomach twisted at the thought, but something about the dream urged her forward.
The leather creaked as she opened it. Inside it lies a small brush, a faded scarf, and a journal.
Her breath caught.
She pulled the journal out, the leather worn, the initials "V.V." pressed into the corner. Virella Voss. Her mother.
The first few pages were filled with sketches — of herbs, runes, and strange symbols that pulsed with familiarity. She flipped through them until a line of handwriting stopped her cold.
"If the Hollow ever returns, protect the child." The air thickened around her.
What was the Hollow? Why had the High Alpha said she bore its mark?
Footsteps outside broke her concentration. A soft knock. “Elara?”
Her body stiffened. She knew that voice. Kael.
She opened the door slowly. He stood there in a dark shirt, the moonlight catching the sharp line of his jaw. His expression was unreadable, as always, but something flickered behind his storm-gray eyes.
“You’re not sleeping well,” he said. It wasn’t a question. She shrugged. “Dreams.”
He looked past her at the journal on the bed. “That belonged to your mother.”
“You knew her?” Kael hesitated. “I remember the day she vanished. The whole forest felt it.”
Elara’s throat tightened. “The Alpha said the one who killed her is back.”
“Yes.” Kael’s voice was low. “And they won’t stop until they finish what they started.”
She swallowed hard. “Why?”
Kael stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “Because your blood is tied to an old power — one the Hollow once used to challenge the Alphas. That power died with them… or so we thought.”
Elara sat, the weight of his words sinking in. “So I’m a threat.”
“Not yet,” Kael said. “But some believe you will be.” She met his gaze. “Do you?”
He didn’t answer.
A loud thump startled them both. Elara rushed to the window. Something moved in the shadows near the trees — fast, hunched, and watching.
Kael was already at the door, but Elara’s voice stopped him. “Wait. There’s something else.”
She held up the journal. “There’s a map in here. It leads to something in the Hollow.”
Kael frowned. “Then we need to find it before they do.”
The forest was quiet, too quiet.
Kael walked beside her, every movement precise. Elara clutched the journal like a lifeline. The path drawn in its pages led them deep into the woods, where the trees grew twisted and the air pulsed with a quiet hum.
It took an hour to reach the glade.
A stone circle, half-buried in moss and roots, stood at the center. Elara stepped toward it, feeling something inside her stir — not the wolf, but something older. A whisper danced through the leaves.
A memory. Her mother’s voice: "Never go to the Hollow alone."
Kael crouched, examining the stones. “Ritual markers. This is old magic.”
Elara knelt beside him. “It’s connected to me, somehow.”
Kael’s hand brushed hers. The contact sent a jolt up her arm.
“You’re stronger than you know,” he said quietly.
A sudden gust of wind blew through the glade.
From the shadows, a figure emerged — masked, cloaked, and silent. Red eyes glowed beneath the hood.
“Elara Voss,” the figure hissed. “The Hollow is not done with you.”
Kael stepped in front of her. “Back away.” The figure raised a hand — and the runes on the stones flared.
Elara screamed as light erupted from the ground, and the world turned white.
When she woke, Kael was gone.
The forest was silent again, but the runes still glowed faintly. Her hands were scorched. The journal lay open beside her, a new page inked in her mother’s hand — though the journal had been closed.
"When the light finds you, run. Trust the seer. The truth lies beneath the Hollow."
Elara staggered to her feet. Someone knew she had awakened. And someone wanted her to remember.
Back at the cabin, the young seer girl, Nyra, waited at her door.
“They know you saw the stones,” Nyra whispered. “You’re not safe here.” “Who are they?” Elara asked.
“The ones who never died.” The door creaked open — and a shadow stepped in
.
Glowing red eyes. Familiar. Terrifying. “Elara,” the voice said. She froze. It was her mother’s.
- Writer
