Page 17 of Alpha Unchained (Wolves of Wild Hollow #2)

ELENA

S unlight streams through the tall doors of the Rawlings’ dining room, spilling golden rectangles across polished floors and the many tables that fill the open, airy space.

The room hums with life—voices and laughter rising over the clatter of plates, the kitchen staff weaving between tables pouring coffee and clearing dishes, and children darting in and out as breakfast is served.

The buffet along the far wall overflows with platters of bacon, eggs, potatoes, pancakes, pastries, and fresh fruit.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m surrounded at the start of a new day.

Not hunted. Not hiding. Just here—seen, fed, safe.

I’ve only been here since last night, but I could easily see myself getting used to the easy way the Rawlings’ pack includes me.

Some of them are wary—of course they are, given my past and the McKinley mess—but most are welcoming, offering smiles and simple kindnesses I didn’t know I needed.

Even the house itself feels safe with the scent of warm bread in the air, polished floors beneath my feet, the hush of old timber and tradition that belongs to others but shelters me, anyway.

I cling to it, letting myself soak in the feeling, even if part of me expects it to be snatched away at any moment.

Kate sits next to me at the table, her red hair piled up, eyes bright behind her mug. She pushes a plate of eggs in my direction. “Eat. The kitchen went all out for you this morning. Perks of being the focus of the latest Rawlings/McKinley drama.”

I grin and dig in, letting the first bite of eggs linger on my tongue. “If this is what trouble gets me, I’ll take it.”

She snorts. “You should see what you get if you actually win a fight.”

Hudson leans against the doorframe, coffee in hand, sharp-eyed but calm. “Don’t encourage her.” He gives me a small nod—gruff, but there’s warmth there. I feel it, a current of protection humming just beneath the jokes.

All around me, pack members eat, tease, talk.

I spot the oldest Rawlings aunts debating over how strong to make the coffee, a pair of teenage cousins whispering over their phones.

The sense of family is everywhere, and for a moment I let myself imagine what it would have been like to grow up surrounded by this kind of warmth—the noise, the comfort, the feeling of being included without question.

I never really had that, not even as a child.

It was always just me and my mom, moving to Wild Hollow and making do on our own.

But now, sitting here in the middle of the Rawlings’ pack, I realize how much I longed for it, how much I wanted to believe a place like this could exist for me.

The ache inside eases, if only for a few moments.

Even my wolf quiets, letting me bask in it.

But that’s not the full story of my morning.

When I’d first woken, sunlight streaming in through the guest room windows, I lay in bed far longer than I should have.

My body ached—a deep, soul-weary soreness from too many sleepless nights and the rawness of everything that's happened with Luke.

I tried to convince myself to get up, but I kept feeling for his presence, half-expecting to find him beside me even though I knew better.

My hands moved absently to my belly, as if the baby could tell me what to do next.

I forced myself up, showered, dressed, and spent long moments in front of the mirror, practicing a smile that wouldn’t betray how lost I felt.

The voices of the pack drifted through the old house.

For a heartbeat, I wished I could disappear into the walls, a ghost of the girl I’d been before Luke came back to Wild Hollow and turned my world upside down.

Downstairs, the kitchen was bustling—smells of bacon and toast, real butter melting on cinnamon rolls. Kate was already at the table, her red hair twisted up in a loose knot, teasing Hudson about the day’s chores.

For a moment, I was just another person at the table—a woman with a secret, but not a monster, not an outcast, not prey. Someone cracked a joke about the Rawlings’ chickens outsmarting the new pup, and laughter rolled around the room. Even I smiled.

I caught Kate sneaking an extra cinnamon roll onto my plate, giving me a wink.

She looked at me the way mothers do when they know you’re running on empty.

For a heartbeat, the memory of my own mother pressed close—her tired smile, her hands always warm, the way she’d pull me close and say, 'You’re stronger than you think, Elena. Try to do more than survive. Thrive.'

It stings, wanting her here—wishing she could see the life I’ve built, however shaky.

I imagine her leaning in, brushing my hair back, whispering something brave and quiet—something only mothers get right.

The ache for my mother knots with the ache for Luke.

I press a palm to my belly, feeling the tiniest flutter, and speak to my baby in my mind.

I hope you never feel alone. I hope you always know you’re wanted.

After breakfast, as the dining room empties and the kids race each other outside, Kate and I linger at the long window seat. She pours another cup of coffee, curling her legs beneath her and pats the cushion for me to join her.

"Talk to me," she says, gently and insistently. "Don’t bottle it up."

I shake my head, forcing a wry smile. "You say that like it’s easy. I don’t even know where to start."

Kate nudges my knee with hers. "Try me."

For a second I study the pattern of sunlight on the wood, drawing a slow breath.

"I’m scared. There’s so much I don’t understand, and it feels like everyone knows more than I do.

I need you to be straight with me, Kate.

Hudson and some of the others seem keyed up.

.. like they know something I should know, but don't. Please, just don’t keep me in the dark. "

Kate takes a deep breath, her gaze darting to me. “It’s... complicated, Elena. Hudson's learned that Luke has asserted his claim as alpha..."

"He never wanted that role..."

Kate nods. "I know, but it's his by heredity, and frankly he's the best wolf for the job. Waylon challenged him to settle it with a fight."

"Why do I think that this is not just a couple of rounds of punches?"

"Because you're smarter than that. It's brutal and bloody, and one of them might not walk away."

My heart sinks. "Because of me? The baby?"

She slowly shakes her head. “Not exactly. You’re more like the last piece falling into place.

The spark’s been smoldering for years. You just made it impossible to ignore.

If the McKinleys are to survive and ever be something more than a third-rate, outsider pack, Luke needs to lead them.

Waylon wants nothing but power and privilege for himself. "

"When and where is this going to happen?"

"Most likely tonight at moonrise at the old circle of standing stones on McKinley land. That's where the McKinleys settle things—disputes, territory, old scores.”

I swallow, searching her face. “Does this have to do with me?”

Kate squeezes my hand. “You, Luke, the baby. But more than that, it's about the pack, about legacies, about things that should have been righted years ago. I wish I could tell you more, but until Hudson finds out what’s going on...”

Hudson returns and gives me a look, softer now. “What matters is, you’re not alone. Kate and I will keep you safe. We’ll figure out what this means—together.”

My mind races. “But Luke...?”

Kate nods, her voice steady as she reaches for my hand. “We’ll find out what happens. You’re more than strong enough, Elena. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I feel like I’m trapped between worlds. Not Rawlings. Not McKinley. Not even fully human anymore—just this strange in-between. I don’t know who I am… hell, I don’t even know what I am anymore.”

Kate sighs and bumps her shoulder against mine. “You’re you. You’re the daughter of a woman who started a bookshop in a town that barely believes in fiction, who kept my secrets throughout high school, who never let Waylon scare you off. You belong here, Elena. You always have.”

I try to smile, but it wobbles. “I’m tired of scraping for scraps of belonging. Of always proving I deserve to stay.”

“Then don’t,” Kate murmurs. “Take up space. Demand more.”

The words stick with me as I finish my tea. Kate rises, then disappears to herd some of the younger kids to school. I take the time to wander the house, letting the history soak into my skin —the old oil paintings, the gleaming floors, the echo of laughter through the wide halls.

Back upstairs in the guest room, I gather my things slowly.

I sit at the edge of the bed and almost reach for my phone to text Luke—half a dozen false starts; the words coming and going, dying on the screen.

I want to say I miss you. I want to say I’m scared.

I want to say, come back to me and don’t let go.

But all I manage is to set the phone back down, my chest tight.

Instead, I speak to the baby, my palm pressed to my belly. 'It’s you and me now. I wish I could tell you everything will be okay. I wish someone had told me how hard it is to be alone—but I promise, you’ll never be alone, not if I have breath left in me.'

A soft knock at the door, and Kate appears. "Ready?"

I nod. We gather our things and head downstairs, lingering at the big front doors as the Rawlings pack comes and goes—errands, work, the quiet rhythm of a life I barely remember how to live.