Shrouded in silence and mist, the pines of the eastern woodlands stood tall and unyielding. However, the quiet was broken that morning.
A Silverwind scout, breathless and with a pale face, ran into the outpost. He exclaimed, "They're in the trees." "Too silent to follow, too quick to capture." However, they are observing.
In just a few minutes, Roman and Serafina were riding toward the last known sighting with a small contingent of elite guards.
The air grew heavier as they rode farther into the forest. Serafina's senses were tingling as she held on to the reins. Other scents were overpowered by the unusually strong pine scent. Not even her enhanced senses could distinguish movement.
They dismounted in an old-growth glade surrounded by enormous trees, large enough to hide three mature wolves. Roman gave the order for the soldiers to form a defensive arc. Claw marks carved high into the bark, too high for a typical wolf, were examined by Serafina. They had a new appearance.
Roman crouched next to a pair of footprints in the ground. "Big. nimble. Perhaps rogues, but notice the formation. Too orderly.
"Not just outlaws," Serafina whispered. "Scouts."
All eyes looked up at a sudden rustle in the canopy. A streak of black shadow between two trees blurred past them as Roman was already moving, blade half-drawn. In a matter of seconds, it was gone.
Serafina half-shifted, her wolf thrusting forward, her eyes glimmering gold. "There!"
The trees flew by in a blur as they pursued. The intruder, however, was elusive, moving with unusual agility from branch to branch. Serafina leaped, grabbed a low limb, and threw herself forward.
She struck the figure in the middle of the run, and they both crashed into the brush.
She looked up, but the figure was neither a wild-eyed scout nor a renegade in ragged clothes. A woman in a cloak, younger than Serafina, had a worn hood covering her face.
Instead of fighting, the girl lay motionless, breathing heavily, but her eyes were as dark and serene as the middle of the night.
A few seconds later, Roman and the guards showed up with their weapons out.
"Who are you?" Serafina made a demand.
The girl had an odd accent when she spoke. "A messenger. Not yet, not your enemy.
Roman took a tense step forward. "From whom?"
She paused. He is referred to as the Hollow Alpha.
Like a blade, silence fell.
Roman scowled. "The Northern Council does not recognize such an Alpha."
The girl smiled menacingly. "He doesn't look for praise. He wants to be held accountable.
The girl bit down on something in her mouth before she could say another word, and a dense cloud of black smoke erupted from her lips. She was gone by the time it cleared.
It seemed as if she had disappeared into thin air, despite the guards' desperate searches.
Uneasy, Serafina stood slowly. "The Alpha Hollow...?"
Roman's face grew serious. "It seems like a myth."
"Perhaps," Serafina said. "Or perhaps a storm that we haven't yet seen."
A chilly sliver of unease crept into Serafina's chest as they made their way back to the Silverwind fortress.
Because deep in the forest, the pines whispered secrets—and something ancient had begun to stir.