Page 12 of Mate Night Snack (Hollow Oak Mates #2)

EMMETT

T he forest spoke to him in ways most people didn’t hear.

The way a twig snapped too clean. The pause in a bird’s song. The rustle of leaves moving against the wind instead of with it.

Emmett moved through the underbrush near Hollow Oak’s western perimeter with practiced quiet, boots sinking into mossy soil, breath measured. The sun hung low in the sky behind him, bleeding gold through the canopy as the light dipped toward dusk.

He crouched near a stretch of pine, hand hovering just above the ground.

There.

A partial print. Paw-shaped. Too large to be coyote. Too narrow for bear. No claw marks. The weight was centered like a predator tracking prey, but the gait was wrong for any local wildlife.

His throat went dry.

Wolf.

But not one of theirs.

The earth didn’t just remember the shape of a creature, it remembered the intent. And this one came through with no regard for the Veil’s boundary. No hesitation.

That scent clung to the air now. Faint but unmistakable.

Ashwin.

Emmett stood slowly, pulse ticking behind his ears.

There were two other scents near the ridge that were less familiar, but wrong in a way that made the hair rise along his forearms. He followed one until it faded into nothing at the creek bend, the kind of clean vanish that could only come from someone trained to disappear.

He didn’t need more evidence.

Ashwin’s pack had been here. Close. Close enough to watch. Close enough to know.

Emmett’s jaw tensed as he turned back toward town.

They knew she was here.

He found himself at the Hearth & Hollow porch without remembering the walk. The inn sat quiet, bathed in golden twilight, ivy clinging to the sides like it had secrets to hold.

Katniss’s window was cracked open, lace curtains stirring with the breeze.

She still didn’t know.

That they weren’t just shifters or witches or odd townsfolk with too much folklore on their hands. That the woods moved for people who spoke its language. That the Veil didn’t just keep things hidden —it tested them. Played favorites.

And sometimes, it chose someone who didn’t survive it.

He clenched his fists at his sides.

She’d been writing more. Late into the night. He’d seen the glow from her lamp when he passed on patrol. Heard the scratch of her pen. Felt her thoughts humming on the air like a current.

He couldn’t risk it anymore.

Not if Ashwin had picked up her scent. Not with the symbol carved into the marker tree. Not with the memory of Mabel Dorsey’s name sitting like a rock in his gut.

He went inside without knocking.

Miriam glanced up from the parlor where she was stitching another too-perfect quilt. She said nothing, only nodded toward the staircase.

Emmett took the steps two at a time.

He knocked once on her door, hard enough to make the wood rattle.

Katniss pulled it open, brow arched, pen still clutched in one hand. “If you’re here to yell about me poking around again, you better wait until I’ve had caffeine.”

He didn’t speak. Just looked at her.

Her dark curls were pulled into a messy knot, one of her vintage band tees slung off one shoulder. There was ink on her thumb, dried smudges on the side of her palm. Her hazel eyes were sharp, but tired. Determined.

Alive.

Emmett stepped in and shut the door behind him.

That made her blink. “Uh. Okay.”

“You been out today?” he asked.

“Just the attic,” she said, watching him now with the alert stillness she wore when she sensed something big was about to land. “Found more of those journals.”

He nodded once. His mouth felt dry.

She crossed her arms. “You gonna tell me what’s going on, or is this another round of ‘let me grunt near you and expect you to figure it out’?”

He moved to the window and stared out toward the woods.

“The perimeter’s been breached.”

Katniss stilled. “Breached?”

He looked back. “There was a scent. A sign. A threat.”

She tilted her head. “You say that like you were expecting it.”

“I was,” he said quietly. “Just not this soon.”

“Is this about those missing girls?” she asked. “Because I’ve got a journal from ’94 that makes it sound like this town has been tiptoeing around something for decades. ”

He turned back toward her. “It’s not just the town,” he said. “It’s the Veil. It’s everything past what you see.”

Katniss scoffed. “You’re doing it again. Talking like I’m supposed to know what that means.”

“I’m trying to explain it now. ”

His voice came out sharper than he meant.

She went quiet, lips pressed together.

He took a breath. “There’s magic here,” he said, steady now. “Real magic. Not parlor tricks. Not ghost stories. The kind that grows into the trees. That shapes bloodlines. That binds fate. You stepped into it without knowing but the Veil saw you. That’s what it does. It chooses. ”

Katniss stared at him. “You’re telling me ghosts aren’t the strangest thing in this town?”

He gave a short laugh. “They’re barely on the list.”

She sank onto the edge of her bed, notebook sliding off her lap.

He stayed standing, he couldn’t sit.

“I’ve tried to keep you out of it. I didn’t want you to carry it and honestly, we are all here because it’s protected and we understand each other and the supernatural, no gawking from tourists or prejudices,” he said.

“But now you’re in the thick of it, whether you believe it or not.

Seer or not even. And I think they’re coming for you. ”

“ Who? ” she asked, quiet now.

“Ashwin,” he said. “He’s the reason I don’t wear another pack’s mark. The reason I live on the edge of town and not inside it. His pack was violent. Trained to erase threats. To consume. We disbanded them years ago. But he’s back.”

Katniss stood up slowly, like the ground under her feet wasn’t entirely trustworthy. Her hand fell away from the edge of the bed.

Her eyes locked on his. “Why me?”

“Because you’re asking the wrong questions.”

She frowned. “Or the right ones,” she whispered.

Emmett took a step toward her.

“Because the town pulled you in. Because you’re seeing things no one has in years. Because someone like you… you’re the kind of threat Ashwin always wanted to snuff out before you understood what you were.”

He stopped in front of her. Not touching. Not crowding.

But close.

The room felt smaller, the air tight with something heavier than fear.

She looked at him, jaw set but uncertain. “So what now? You lock me up? Tape my mouth shut so I stop pulling threads?”

“No,” he said. His voice came low. Solid.

He caught a glimpse of her charm that she started to fiddle with due to nerves.

Wolf fur. Twyla’s idea, sure. But part of him wondered if the old fae-blood knew what she was doing when she wove a piece of him into that charm.

“You belong here,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

Her voice came soft. Barely there. “I don’t know what you think I am.”

“I do,” he said. “And I’m not going to let anyone take you before you figure it out for yourself.”

Her brows drew together, confusion carving soft lines across her forehead. “Why would anyone take me?”

He hesitated.

Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait, you said you don’t wear a pack mark. Ashwin’s pack.. Pack as in–”

He stayed silent.

“Emmett. Tell me the rest.”

He let the silence stretch for one more breath before he finally answered. “I’m a shifter.”

Katniss blinked. “A...”

“Wolf shifter,” he said. “Born, not made. My other half lives in me. Bone deep. Breath to breath. It’s not just folklore.”

She stared at him. “I’ve heard of shifters,” she said slowly. “Urban legends. Small towns with weird stories. But I thought that was all...”

“Fairy tales,” he finished for her. “Ghost stories that get chalked up to too much moonshine.”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

He gave a faint nod. “Most people never see behind the curtain. That’s what the Veil is. It keeps us hidden from the ones who aren’t supposed to know. Keeps balance. But you—” He paused. “You’re different. You see through it.”

Her expression cracked. “Because of the visions.”

He nodded. “Because something in you called out to it. And now it’s answering.”

She backed away a step, sitting back on the bed like her knees gave out all at once. Her hands twisted in her lap.

“Witches, too?” she asked. “Fae?”

He nodded again.

“And you’re just now telling me this?”

“I was trying to protect you,” he said. “But now I think keeping you in the dark is more dangerous.”

Her voice dropped. “Because of Ashwin.”

“Because of Ashwin. Because of what he’s capable of. Because of what he sees when he looks at someone like you.”

“And what’s that?”

Emmett’s eyes met hers, sharp and steady. “A threat to the silence. A spark inside the fog. You’re not just seeing what’s happening, you’re remembering what the town forgot. And that scares him.”

Katniss swallowed hard. “The girls from the journals… they didn’t make it out.”

He didn’t have to answer, she already knew.

She stood up again, shaking her head like it might clear everything pressing in.

“I don’t know how to be part of this,” she said. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“You already did,” he said, voice low. “You stayed. You kept digging. And you’re still breathing.”

Her gaze found his again. “Just... don’t lie to me,” she whispered. “I’ve had enough of people acting like silence is safety.”

“I’m done being silent,” he said. “And if you really want answers, accept what you are. Twyla already seems more than willing to hint to you about everything.”

The truth sat between them now, solid and undeniable. Her lip trembled, just a little. And he saw it, the flicker of something she hadn’t let herself feel since she got here. Not just curiosity.

Fear. Trust. Hope.

He should’ve walked away. Should’ve put space between them. But he didn’t. Because now he knew what the pull was. Why her scent haunted his thoughts. Why her voice settled in his chest like a second heartbeat.

She wasn’t just his responsibility. She was his mate. And now that Ashwin had carved his mark into blood and earth, Emmett Hollowell felt afraid.

Not for himself.

For her. For the future. For what fate was already weaving between them. But for now, he’d settle for keeping her close and breathing.

And keeping her alive.