Page 5 of Alpha Unchained (Wolves of Wild Hollow #2)

LUKE

I ’m barely out the bookstore door when I catch sight of Hudson’s SUV idling just down the block, engine still running like he’s expecting trouble.

He’s propped against the hood, arms crossed over that broad chest, the kind of solid, unmoving presence that makes people think twice.

There’s nothing hurried about him—just the quiet, deliberate patience he wears like armor, the kind he uses when he’s weighing what comes next.

Kate stands beside him, her red hair pulled into a messy knot that catches every stray glint of morning sun. Her arms are folded tight across her chest like she’s been standing there awhile—braced and ready for a fight. Her amber eyes are fixed on me, sharp as a hawk’s.

She’s got that set to her jaw that means she’s already decided where she stands—same look she wore when she went toe-to-toe with Dad after I took the fall for stealing his truck.

Back then, she stood between me and the worst of it, dared anyone to challenge her loyalty.

Now, that jaw is set against me. And even though I know why, some part of me still wishes she’d be in my corner—just once more.

She’s my sister, damn it. Family’s supposed to have your back, even when you don’t deserve it.

The two of them—Hudson, all mountain stillness, Kate all wildfire and heat—look at me, and my breath catches, heart thudding against my ribs.

My arms lower just a fraction, shoulders squared, jaw locked tight.

The air around me feels too still, like it’s waiting for the next move.

I don’t flinch, don’t snarl—just hold the line, every inch of me a quiet warning.

a silent warning to stay back. Every muscle is tight, wound tense, bracing for the explosion I know I can't afford to let loose. like I’m both the fuse and the powder keg, like any wrong move could light us all up.

A restless energy coils inside me—feral and uneasy, straining at the edges of my control.

Hudson watches with a steady gaze, like he’s bracing for me to snap.

Kate’s chin lifts—defiant, protective. She used to lift it like that before she dared me to jump into the creek, before she talked me down from fights I was too angry to walk away from.

Back then, it meant she had my back. Now it means I’m the one she’s guarding against. Their disappointment hits like a blow.

I don’t blame them. If I were in their shoes, I’d probably hate me, too.

It doesn’t help that Kate’s looking at me like she wants to tear me apart, when part of me expects her to remember I’m her brother first. I need to make them understand marking Elena wasn’t something I planned—it was instinct, that primal wolf's urge that took over and changed everything. Getting her pregnant? That sure as hell wasn’t intentional either.

Although truth be told, I don't regret either.

But what haunts me most is what I left Elena to face.

I picture her waking up alone, body aching and unfamiliar, instincts roaring in her blood with no one to explain what was happening.

No guide, no pack, no anchor. Just confusion and pain and fear.

Every second I spent running was a second she spent unraveling. And I wasn’t there to stop it.

None of that makes the mess any easier to explain or forgive.

Kate doesn’t wait for me to speak. “Are you done causing more trouble? Or is this just the warm-up round? Because Elena doesn’t need any more chaos showing up on her doorstep—especially not from you.”

“Easy,” Hudson rumbles, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. There’s a flicker behind his eyes—something more than irritation. Concern, maybe. Or calculation. The kind of protective tension that only shows up when he's already three steps ahead, weighing every possible threat before it lands.

His gaze narrows, not on my face, but on the restless warning in my posture—shoulders set, body braced as if I’m expecting a challenge.

I don’t do nervous tics; most true alphas don’t.

It's not in their nature, but my muscles are tight, and every part of me is alert and ready, even as I force myself to stay still.

The last thing I need is for Hudson—or my sister for that matter—to see the truth: the real reason to doubt I’m in control isn’t about nerves or pack politics or even the syndicate.

It’s that, deep down, I’m not sure I am.

Not when it comes to Elena. Not with all the lines I’ve already crossed and everything I’m holding back.

If they could see just how close I am to losing it—to letting instinct take over—they’d have every right to be wary.

Hudson knows exactly what’s simmering inside me—he’s an alpha, too.

He understands what it means to rein yourself in, to hold that animal tension in check when it’s your own family looking you in the eye.

He wants Kate to tread carefully, not just because we’re siblings, but because it’s never smart to challenge an alpha wolf when he’s this close to the edge, blood or not.

For a second, I almost feel sorry for both of them—Hudson, carrying the weight of the Rawlings pack, bound by duty and law, and Kate, McKinley by blood, but now Hudson's mate, first lady of his pack, and caught between the brother she grew up with and the man she’s chosen.

The three of us—all pulled between family and the old pack laws that dig deeper than any blood tie.

I square my shoulders. “We need to talk. Now. Not out here.”

Kate scoffs, and we move as a unit—something that should feel instinctive, but doesn't. Not with the rift yawning between us like open ground. We’re going through the motions, but there’s no connected rhythm to it now—just muscle memory and the weight of everything unsaid.

No one is really leading, just turning together toward Hudson’s SUV.

Hudson unlocks it, and I slide into the back—alone, the only passenger, boxed in by glass and the two of them up front.

I feel like some suspect they’re hauling in for questioning.

The interior still holds a faint scent of coffee and worn leather.

The seat creaks subtly under Hudson’s weight.

His thumb taps slowly against the steering wheel, steady as a metronome, grounding and tense all at once, and the cold trace of last night’s mountain air.

We don’t drive far. Hudson pulls the SUV into a quiet, shaded lot beside the old mercantile—Kate’s old apartment sits just above it, the windows shuttered and silent.

Nobody else around. Just the three of us and a whole hell of a lot of unspoken words.

Hudson kills the engine; the faint hum of the radio cuts through the silence like the honed edge of a blade.

Kate twists in her seat to face me, her glare razor-sharp. “So. You want to explain yourself?”

Hudson stays still, arms crossed, waiting for me to move first. I don’t. Instead, I brace myself and speak. “Elena and I were together—one night. I marked her. That’s what changed her.”

Kate’s mouth tightens, and her voice drops into something cold and clipped. “No shit Sherlock. We figured that out all by ourselves when we saw the bite mark on her neck after you left.” The bitterness in her tone hits like frostbite—sharp, restrained, and full of betrayal.

“I didn’t plan any of this,” I say, the words punching out of me. “Marking her—I knew what that meant. I knew she’d change. But getting her pregnant? That wasn’t intentional. I just… I never wanted any of this to hurt her.”

Shame claws at my gut. My wolf surges, furious that I left \Elena to face the fallout alone. I told myself it was for the best, that I was keeping her safe—her, and the child I didn’t know we’d made—but it doesn’t change the fact that I walked away.

Hudson cuts in, voice calm but cold. “And yet, you left. Just like the last time. You didn’t think. You didn't give a damn who you hurt. You didn’t even stick around to find out.”

“If I hadn’t left the Hollow, no one I cared about would have been safe.

No one. I told myself I was doing the right thing.

That if I cut ties clean, they wouldn’t find her.

But the truth is, I didn’t want to see her look at me like I was the threat.

I left because I was afraid—of them, of me, of what it meant to love her like that.

” I drag a hand over my face, nails scraping my stubble, then ball it into a fist in my lap, knuckles white from the force I’m using to keep it there, anchored by sheer will.

Taking a deep breath, I continue. "The Sable Rock Syndicate... They don’t just kill you.

They unravel you—piece by piece.First they find out who and what you love.

Then they take it. They bribe your friends, torch your business, make you a ghost in your own life.

They’ve disappeared entire families without leaving a trace.

Made people think they’d never existed at all. "

I shake my head. I need to make them understand.

"And when they’re done? They send ashes in an envelope.

I watched it happen to another person who tried to oppose them.

One day he was training with me, the next his house was gone, and nobody would speak his name again.

I couldn’t risk that happening to Elena. Not her. Not our child."

“Don’t give me any syndicate bullshit,” Kate snaps. “You don’t get to blame anyone other than yourself. You left, Luke. You left her with nothing.”

The silence stretches too long, and I glance down. My hands are shaking. Not from fear, but from restraint. I want to punch something. Yell. Beg. But she deserves more than another man who can’t hold his own damn consequences.

Hudson’s voice softens. “You really think you can keep her safe now? With everything coming down the mountain?”

“I have to.” The words come out rough. “She’s mine. The baby she’s carrying is mine.”

Kate goes still. No question in her eyes, just the weight of everything we’re not saying.

But I catch it anyway—the flicker of concern, the way her mouth softens like she’s not just my sister, but someone who remembers who I used to be.

Maybe even a flash of relief that at least one thing in this mess is finally certain.

She nods, short and sharp, but the crack in her armor is there. And I hold on to it.

Hudson looks between us, then says, “If you need a place, you can stay at the compound.”

Kate cuts in. “You don’t have to stay with the pack. My old place above the mercantile is sitting empty. It’s secure; nobody’ll bother you, and it’s closer to Elena.”

Hudson shrugs. “That's not a bad idea. Just try not to burn the place down.”

I nod. “Thanks. Both of you.” My voice comes out rougher than I want it to, and I don’t quite meet Kate’s eyes. Gratitude scrapes against the regret lodged in my chest. I move my weight slightly, like I need to ground myself, like I don’t trust my voice to hold steady a second time.

Kate finally relaxes, just a little. She rubs her temple like the weight of all this is catching up with her. And for a breath, I almost believe things might be turning. But that flicker of hope? It lands like guilt. I don’t deserve it. Not after what I left her—and Elena—to carry alone.

“Don’t screw this up," she says. "It’s not just Waylon. I’ve heard rumors—about new money backing his push. The kind that doesn’t blink at collateral damage.”

Hudson’s phone buzzes. He checks it, glances at Kate, then me. “Waylon’s sniffing around Elena’s place again. Asking questions.”

A dangerous heat settles in my chest, spreading like fire through my ribs. My pulse thunders in my ears, vision narrowing until all I can see is red. “If he touches her...”

“He won’t,” Hudson says. “Not as long as I’m here.”

Kate turns to me. “Let us handle it. Let Hudson handle Waylon, and I’ll try to advocate for you with Elena.”

It takes everything I have not to throw the door open and stalk down Main Street, not to find Waylon and settle this the old way, in teeth and blood.

But I don’t. Not because I’m calm. Not because I’m in control.

But because this is Hudson’s SUV—Wild Hollow's official vehicle. The doors lock automatically from the front, and I’d have to break the glass partition and shove past them both to make it happen.

So I stay. Not for peace. For Elena.

I hold still. Every part of me demands I get out and track Waylon down, rip the threat out by its roots. But I clamp it down hard, forcing my body to stay still. but I won’t. Not for Elena, not for the baby, but for the sliver of a second chance I haven’t yet destroyed.

Kate’s voice is soft but steel-edged. “Don’t make me regret letting you stay. I told Waylon the same thing I’m telling you now—that baby belongs to Elena and Elena alone. She’s the only one who gets to decide who’s part of her child’s life.”

I give her a look that promises I won’t—at least, not on purpose.

They climb out of the SUV and I’m left alone in the backseat, the silence wrapping around me like judgment.

I catch a trace of Elena's scent still clinging to my skin—lavender and something wilder, edged with heat and memory. The echo of her laugh lingers like the morning fog in the back of my mind, and I swear I feel the ghost of her fingertips dragging across my chest, and something wilder, It hits me like it did that first night. Elena. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve lost, comes down to her.

Watching the sunlight slant through the windshield, my chest tightens.

No one touches Elena. Not the pack. Not the syndicate. Not Waylon. Not even blood.

She’s mine to protect—and so is the life she carries.

This time, I won't run.

This time, I strike first.