Page 9 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)

DIANA

T he path to the Council Glade was lit by fae-lights that bobbed in the evening air like captive stars.

Diana clutched the folder against her chest, the paper edges cool against her knuckles.

Beside her, Miriam walked with a steady, unhurried gait, her silver hair catching the glow.

Diana’s skin still prickled with the memory of the afternoon—the dizzying slip, the iron grip of Rowan’s arms, and the abrupt, cold wall he’d thrown up after.

“Breathe, child,” Miriam said, her voice a calm anchor in the twilight. “They aren’t going to eat you. They’ll just chew on you a bit first.”

Diana managed a shaky smile. “Comforting.”

“It’s a compliment. They only chew on things they think might be worth the effort.”

The glade opened before them, a circle of ancient stones under a canopy of oak and pine.

A low fire burned in a central pit, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the three figures already seated.

Diana recognized the wolf elder, Varric Thornwell, from Miriam’s descriptions.

His long, silver braids rested on his shoulders, and his eyes, the color of a stormy sky, watched their approach.

Beside him sat a man with a perfectly trimmed gray beard and a severe expression that screamed disapproval.

The third was Emmett Hollowell, the stoic wolf shifter whose quiet strength felt like a steadying presence even from a distance.

“Miriam. Ms. Merrick.” Varric’s voice was a low rumble, like stones shifting. “Thank you for coming.”

Diana took the empty seat indicated for her, placing her folder on the flat stone in front of her. She could feel their collective skepticism, a heavy cloak in the air. They were judging her, this human who had been handed the keys to their heart.

“Let’s begin,” Varric said. “You have a proposal for the inn.”

Diana took a deep breath and opened the folder.

“I do. First, the renovation schedule.” She passed out copies, her hands surprisingly steady.

“Rowan Baneville has completed a thorough structural assessment. The north wall, stairs, and sections of the roof require immediate attention to ensure the building’s integrity.

His timeline is aggressive but achievable, with the primary structural work completed in the next two weeks. ”

The severe-looking man—Elder Bram, she guessed—picked up the paper as if it were contaminated. “Mr. Baneville’s assessment,” he said, his voice clipped. “An interesting choice, given his history of… impermanence.”

"The Council assigned him to the project. He's been... thorough."

"Rowan knows the inn better than anyone except Miriam," Varric said. "If he's confident in the timeline, I'm inclined to trust his judgment."

"His judgment wasn't in question during his last stay in Hollow Oak," Elder Bram said pointedly. "His reliability was."

Diana felt the tension ripple through the circle. This was about more than just her qualifications - it was about pack politics and old grievances she didn't fully understand.

"People change," she said quietly. "Circumstances change. What matters is what someone chooses to do now, not what they did in the past."

"Spoken like someone who's never had to clean up the mess left behind," Councilor Reed said. His voice was gravelly, worn smooth by years of hard work.

“His work is excellent,” Diana said, her voice even. “He understands the building.” The thought of Rowan’s careful hands on the old wood, his patient explanations, solidified her resolve. “He listens to what it needs.”

“A building does not talk, Ms. Merrick,” Bram scoffed.

“Doesn’t it?” Diana met his cold gaze without flinching. “The third step groans when it’s tired. The parlor wall hums when it rains. It’s been telling people it needs help for a long time. I’m just the first person who’s had a contractor willing to translate.”

Emmett Hollowell shifted slightly, a flicker of interest in his gray-blue eyes.

Varric studied her for a long moment. “The costs are significant. The inn’s accounts will be strained.”

“Which is why I’ve also drafted an events calendar to begin generating revenue immediately,” Diana said, sliding a second sheet across the stone.

“I plan to host an Autumn Hearth Gathering next week. A community potluck, a story circle by the fire. A way to remind everyone that the Hearth & Hollow is still their gathering place, even while it’s healing. ”

“A party,” Bram said with disdain. “While the roof is half-torn off.”

“A reunion,” Diana corrected gently. “For the town and its inn. To show that we are open, we are strong, and we are still a sanctuary for anyone who needs one.”

“The girl has a point,” Miriam put in, her sharp voice cutting through the tension. “The inn runs on more than money. It runs on memory and goodwill. Time to make some new memories.”

Varric picked up the events calendar. “This gathering… it would be an opportunity for the community to see the progress for themselves. To see you, Ms. Merrick, in your new role.”

“Exactly,” Diana said. “I want them to see I’m serious about this. I’m not just a placeholder. I’m the innkeeper.”

The council members exchanged glances. The air was thick with unspoken history, of past hurts and a deep-seated protectiveness for their town.

Diana’s empathic gift picked up on their caution, their fear that she, an outsider, a human, could not possibly understand the weight of the legacy she held.

Finally, Varric folded his hands. “The Council has discussed this. We are prepared to approve your position, Ms. Merrick, on a provisional basis.” He held up a hand to forestall any argument.

“You will have a three-month trial period. The renovation budget is approved, pending weekly progress reports submitted to my aide. Your gathering is also approved.”

He pushed a small, rolled scroll toward her. “These are our recommendations. They include guidelines for maintaining the inn’s wards and protocols for guest registration. We expect you to adhere to them precisely.”

Diana picked up the scroll. It was approval, but an approval wrapped in caution tape. A test. “I understand. Thank you.”

“Do not thank us yet,” Bram warned. “Earn it. The Hearth & Hollow is the soul of this town. Do not treat that lightly.”

“I have never treated it as anything else,” Diana said quietly.

As she and Miriam walked back down the path, the fae-lights dancing around them, the tension in Diana’s shoulders finally began to ease. It wasn’t a victory, not yet. But it was a start. It was a chance.

“You did well,” Miriam said. “You stood your ground.”

“I just told them the truth.” Diana thought of the work ahead, of winning over a town one scone and one repaired floorboard at a time.

She thought of Rowan, of the confusing heat and chill between them on the roof.

He was a puzzle she didn’t understand, but his dedication to the inn was undeniable.

He was a part of her plan, a part of making this work.

She clutched the scroll in her hand. She would win them over. Not with words, but with work. She would make the inn a home again, for them and, finally, for herself.