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Pleasure tears through me, hot and primal.

I bury myself in her one last time, groaning against her mouth as my release hits, hips jerking, heartbeat pounding through every nerve ending.

I stay there, panting, pressed tight to her, forehead to hers, until the only sound is the hiss of water and our uneven breaths.

And for a while, the world disappears.

The water cools, but neither of us moves. She’s draped over me, her head against my chest, our bodies still joined, still trembling. I trail my fingers down her spine, anchoring myself in the reality of her breath, the soft warmth of her skin, the steady pulse beneath her mark.

Eventually, I lift her with ease, and carry her from the shower. She doesn't protest, just sighs and curls closer. We dry off quickly, trading soft kisses and sated glances, and then I lay her down on the bed like she’s something sacred.

We collapse into the sheets, tangled together, breathless and damp, still murmuring each other’s names like prayers neither of us wants to end. I press a last kiss to her shoulder.

Then...

A knock.

Sharp. Urgent.

I’m out of bed in a second, pulling on sweats as adrenaline kicks back into gear. My body still hums with the echo of her, but the urgency in that knock slices through whatever warmth lingered. I crack the door, heart already locking into war mode.

One of my younger tech specialists, Eddie, stands there, eyes wide and breathing heavy like he ran the entire way. He’s holding a laptop.

“We decrypted it,” he says. “The USB. You need to see this.”

Kate sits up in bed, the sheet falling to her waist. I toss a shirt to her, which she puts on, her eyebrows pinching together slightly, eyes narrowing with concern. “Is it about Luke?”

“Worse,” Eddie says. “It’s about everything.”

The data sprawls across the screen like a blueprint for betrayal.

Dozens of land records, some dating back decades.

Names—pack members, human locals, and out-of-towners with deep pockets and hidden agendas.

GPS coordinates tagged with timestamps, some dangerously close to pack territory.

And a financial trail littered with bribes—cleverly disguised as 'consulting fees' and 'debt relief payments. '

Layer upon layer of quiet manipulation. These weren’t just property acquisitions—they were surgical strikes. Every document a move in a long game, one designed to bleed the Hollow dry without ever firing a shot.

A corporate syndicate operating under the name Sable Rock Group—backed by old money and even older grudges—has been quietly trying to buy up Hollow land. Using forgotten debts, forged signatures, shell companies. Pulling strings from the shadows.

Including our pack land. They weren’t just targeting old properties or fringe areas—they were creeping straight into Rawlings’ territory. Some of the names tied to those land records belonged to families under our protection.

Lands that had been in our pack for generations were being stripped away under the guise of debt collection and backroom deals. This wasn’t just greed—it was an invasion hiding behind paperwork.

“This is why Luke disappeared,” Kate says, eyes scanning the maps. “He found this. And they found out.”

My jaw clenches. “They got him to disappear once. They won’t get that chance again.”

I scroll to a highlighted region—one of our southern border farms recently lost to ‘bank default.’ On the surface, it looked like a standard foreclosure.

Missed payments, delinquent taxes, a local family forced off land they’d held for generations.

But this data exposes what really happened: a fraudulent claim processed through a fake intermediary LLC, which then immediately transferred the title to a shell company tied to Sable Rock.

But the deeper we dig, the uglier it gets.

Buried in the metadata and cross-referenced transport logs, we find shipments—decades-old manifests that shouldn’t exist anymore.

The land had been used for more than farming.

A secret private airstrip. Unregistered deliveries.

Smuggling routes buried under barns and cornfields.

Not just moonshine, but drugs. Artifacts.

Shifters, even. For decades, someone’s been laundering danger through our Hollow, and no one saw it until now.

The plan was never for the land to hit the open market. Someone targeted, isolated, and snatched up the property before anyone knew what was happening. And they weren’t just buying dirt. They were reclaiming access. Old supply lines. Ghost routes. Everything coming back online.

“This is their next target.”

I look up. “It’s time we remind them the Hollow remembers,” I say, voice low, tight with promise, “and this time, it’s going to fight back.”

Eddie leans over my shoulder, eyes narrowed as more files scroll across the screen. “These aren’t just relics. They’ve been reactivating the old routes. Look—infrared pings at three of the old drop zones, just this month.”

Kate’s brow furrows. “You’re saying someone is using Wild Hollow again. Right under our noses.”

“No.” My voice is colder than I mean it to be. “I’m saying they never stopped.”

A beat of silence drops into the room. Heavy. Final.

We always thought Luke was paranoid about what was moving through the Hollow.

Turns out he was right. And the syndicate he tried to keep at bay?

It’s been biding time. Sable Rock didn’t just infiltrate—they rooted themselves deep, hid behind false titles and burned ledgers, betting no one here would ever be bold or tech-savvy enough to dig them up. But now?

Now we know.

“They’ve reactivated the east tunnel,” Eddie mutters, pointing to another highlighted zone. “The one under McCray’s old mill.”

Kate stiffens beside me. “That’s less than two miles from the elementary school.”

My vision narrows.

They’re not just targeting land anymore. They’re circling the people. Cutting off our defenses. Surrounding the heart of the Hollow—and no one saw it coming.

Until now.

“Start cross-referencing personnel lists,” I order. “I want to know who’s been paid off, who’s disappeared, and who’s due for a visit. We’ve got one chance to cut the head off this thing before it digs in deeper.”

Kate doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. The fire in her eyes says enough. This is no longer about land. It’s about legacy, safety, survival.