The Hollow Pact

The Hunter’s Mark

Killian could still feel the weight of Lucian Blackmoor’s parting words pressing against his chest like a phantom wound. The air in the forest was thick, charged with something he couldn't quite explain—something beyond fear, beyond logic. He was in over his head, and he knew it.

Rowan swayed on her feet, her wounds already healing, but her expression remained guarded. Carson shifted uneasily beside him, running a hand through his hair. “Killian,” he muttered. “You wanna tell me what the hell we just walked into?”

Killian opened his mouth, then closed it. How was he supposed to explain the impossible? That in less than twenty-four hours, his world had turned inside out? That werewolves—actual, real werewolves—were fighting battles in the shadows of Black Hollow, and he had just become a player in a game he didn’t understand?

Rowan’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. “We need to leave. Now.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “Oh, so we’re just going to ignore the fact that a man with silver eyes just disappeared into thin air?”

She turned to him, something fierce flashing in her gaze. “You’re alive, detective. That’s more than most people get when they cross Lucian.”

Her words were laced with an urgency that unsettled him. “What does he want?” Killian pressed. “Why did he come after you?”

Rowan hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

“Make it simple.”

Her jaw clenched, but before she could answer, the distant howl of wolves split through the night. Not normal wolves. Killian had spent enough time in the forests surrounding Black Hollow to know the difference.

These weren’t ordinary animals. These were hunters.

Rowan paled. “They’re tracking us.”

Carson tensed. “You mean more of those things?”

Rowan turned, her body already shifting, bones cracking in a grotesque but fascinating display. Within seconds, the woman standing before them was gone, replaced by a massive, dark-furred beast with piercing golden eyes.

Killian didn’t have time to marvel at the transformation before Rowan let out a sharp growl, motioning for them to move.

“Run,” she commanded, her voice an eerie blend of human and beast.

Killian grabbed Carson by the arm, and together they bolted through the trees, the underbrush whipping at their legs. The forest was alive around them, the sounds of pursuit growing closer with every passing second.

Branches snapped. Heavy paws thundered against the earth.

Killian’s breath came fast and ragged. This was a nightmare, a goddamn nightmare.

Then the first wolf struck.

A hulking mass of fur and muscle lunged from the side, slamming into Carson and sending him sprawling. Killian skidded to a stop, raising his gun, but the wolf was already on top of his partner, fangs bared, saliva dripping onto Carson’s throat.

A flash of black fur barreled into it before it could strike the killing blow. Rowan. She tore into the attacker with a savagery that sent blood spraying across the forest floor.

Carson scrambled backward, his face pale. “Holy—”

Killian yanked him up. “Move!”

They barely made it another fifty feet before another form emerged from the darkness—bigger than the others, its presence radiating sheer dominance.

Lucian.

He stood there, completely at ease, watching them with those unsettling silver eyes. The other wolves surrounded him, their glowing gazes locked onto Killian and Carson like prey.

Rowan shifted back to human form, panting hard. Blood streaked her skin, but she didn’t flinch.

Lucian smiled. “Brave, as always.”

Rowan didn’t lower her stance. “I told you to leave.”

Lucian ignored her, his gaze shifting to Killian. “And you… You continue to surprise me, detective.”

Killian lifted his gun, aiming straight for Lucian’s head. “Surprise.”

Lucian tilted his head, amused. “Bold. But bullets won’t save you.”

Before Killian could react, Lucian moved. One second he was standing yards away, the next he was inches from Killian, fingers wrapped around the barrel of the gun. He twisted, wrenching it from Killian’s grip as if he were a child.

Lucian leaned in, his voice low. “There’s something different about you, detective. Something even you don’t understand yet.”

Killian’s pulse roared in his ears. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Lucian’s smirk widened. “You will.”

Then he released him, stepping back as if this had all been a casual conversation. “This isn’t your fight, Killian. Not yet.”

Rowan growled, stepping forward. “Enough of your games, Lucian. What do you want?”

Lucian’s gaze flickered to her, his expression momentarily unreadable. Then, he turned away. “Consider this a warning.”

With a simple motion, the other wolves faded back into the shadows. Within seconds, the clearing was empty except for Rowan, Killian, and Carson.

The silence was deafening.

Killian exhaled sharply. “What the hell just happened?”

Rowan wiped at her face, wincing. “Lucian marked you.”

Killian’s stomach twisted. “Marked me?”

Rowan’s gaze was dark, serious. “You’re part of this now, detective. Whether you like it or not.”

Carson let out a string of curses, running a hand down his face. “Fantastic. So, what now?”

Rowan looked at Killian. “Now? We prepare. Because this was only the beginning.”