Page 19 of Mate Night Snack (Hollow Oak Mates #2)

KATNISS

T he Griddle & Grind felt different in the early morning light.

Softer somehow, with golden sunbeams slanting through the stained glass windows and casting rainbow patterns across the mismatched furniture.

The usual bustle of townsfolk hadn't started yet, leaving the café hushed and intimate, like a confessional booth made of cedar and cinnamon.

Katniss sat in the corner booth, the one with the wobbly leg and the view of both the front door and the back garden.

Her notebook lay open between her hands, pages filled with sketches of symbols, fragments of dreams, and questions that spiraled into more questions.

The scorched remains of her protective charm sat beside her coffee cup like evidence at a crime scene.

Twyla approached with a tea service that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale.

The porcelain was delicate bone china painted with tiny violets, and the teapot steamed with something that smelled like lavender and secrets.

Her wheat-colored braid swung over her shoulder as she set everything down with practiced grace, the dried blooms woven through her hair catching the morning light like captured stars.

"Morning glory blend," Twyla said, settling across from her with fluid movements that reminded Katniss of water finding its level. "Good for clarity. Better for courage."

"I could use both," Katniss admitted, watching Twyla pour the pale golden tea. Steam curled between them, carrying hints of honey and something deeper, earthier. "Emmett told me about the supernatural side of things. Shifters, the Veil, all of it."

Twyla's hands stilled for just a moment, then continued their steady movements. "About time. That boy's got a talent for carrying weights that don't belong to him alone."

"Is that what this is?" Katniss gestured to her notebook, to the burned charm. "Another weight he's carrying?"

"Sugar, that weight's been sitting on this town's shoulders since before Emmett ever set foot here.

" Twyla settled back in her chair, wrapping her fingers around her teacup.

Her eyes, those soft brown depths flecked with brightness, studied Katniss with the intensity of someone reading tea leaves.

"The question is whether you're strong enough to help him carry it. "

Katniss sipped the tea, feeling warmth spread through her chest. It tasted like summer mornings and grandmother's hugs, if grandmothers could brew comfort into liquid form. "Tell me about the pattern. The missing girls. All of it."

Twyla was quiet for a long moment, her gaze drifting toward the window where morning mist still clung to the garden like ghostly fingers. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of decades.

"Started back in '85. Girl named Senna Walsh.

Sweet thing, barely eighteen, with hair like spun copper and eyes that saw too much.

Found her way to Hollow Oak following dreams that called to her, just like you did.

" Twyla's thumb traced the rim of her cup.

"She had the sight. Not as strong as yours, mind you, but enough to catch attention. "

Katniss felt her stomach tighten. "What happened to her?"

"Same thing that happened to Mabel, to Eliza, to the three others whose names never made it into any journals." Twyla's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "They got tangled up with something that fed on fear and used love as a weapon."

"Ashwin."

Twyla nodded slowly. "He wasn't always what he is now.

Time was, he led a pack that lived by old codes.

Honor. Protection. Balance with the land.

" Her expression darkened like storm clouds gathering.

"But power without wisdom is a dangerous thing, and Ashwin found ways to twist those codes into something ugly. "

Katniss leaned forward, her notebook forgotten. "How does this connect to Emmett?"

"Every girl who disappeared, every seer who vanished into the mist, they all had one thing in common." Twyla met her eyes directly. "They fell in love with wolves who tried to save them."

The words hit Katniss like a physical blow. Her teacup rattled against the saucer as she set it down with shaking hands. "You're saying this is deliberate. That Ashwin targets seers specifically to hurt the men who love them."

"I'm saying Ashwin learned a long time ago that the fastest way to break a wolf's spirit is to take away what he loves most." Twyla reached across the table and covered Katniss's hand with her own.

Her palm was warm, callused from years of kneading dough and tending plants.

"Each time, the pattern's the same. Girl arrives, usually following visions or dreams. She's got enough magic to slip through the Veil, enough heart to see past the town's careful walls.

She meets a wolf, falls in love, thinks she's found her happy ending. "

"And then?"

"Then Ashwin comes hunting." Twyla's fingers tightened slightly. "He studies them, learns their weaknesses, their fears. He whispers poison in their ears about their wolves' past mistakes, about the violence they're capable of. He makes them doubt. Makes them run."

Katniss thought about yesterday, about Ashwin's voice in her vision saying her name like he already owned it. "The girls who ran... what happened to them?"

"They vanished into the spaces between worlds.

Trapped in the Veil's darker corners, neither alive nor dead.

" Twyla's voice carried grief older than the mountains.

"And their wolves? Most of them broke completely.

Some left town, couldn't bear the memories.

Others..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Others what?"

"Others became exactly what Ashwin wanted them to become.

Violent. Bitter. Easy to recruit or destroy.

" Twyla pulled her hand back and wrapped it around her teacup again.

"That's his real goal, you see. Not just the girls, though he feeds on their magic.

It's the corruption of good wolves that truly sustains him. "

Katniss felt sick. The tea that had tasted like comfort now sat heavy in her stomach. "Emmett's different, though. He's not like the others."

"No, he's not." Twyla smiled, but it was edged with something fierce. "Emmett Hollowell carries guilt like other men carry wallets, but his heart's still clean. Still chooses mercy over vengeance, even when it costs him everything. That's what makes him dangerous to someone like Ashwin."

"Dangerous how?"

"Because Emmett proves that wolves can change.

That violence isn't inevitable. That there's another way to be strong.

" Twyla leaned forward, her eyes intense.

"If Ashwin can break him, corrupt him, turn him into a monster?

That sends a message to every supernatural creature in these mountains.

But if Emmett stands firm, if he chooses love over fear. .."

"It proves Ashwin's philosophy is wrong," Katniss finished.

"Exactly." Twyla sat back with satisfaction. "That's why you're different from the others. You're not just bait anymore. You're the test."

Katniss stared down at her notebook, at the symbols she'd sketched from dreams and visions. The jagged triangle inside a circle, the three slash marks, the runes that seemed to shift when she wasn't looking directly at them. "These symbols I've been seeing. They're not random, are they?"

"Show me."

Katniss turned the notebook around, pointing to the clearest drawing. Twyla sucked in a sharp breath, her face going pale beneath her sun-kissed complexion.

"Where did you see this?"

"Dreams. Visions. I found a locket with this symbol near the lake." Katniss traced the lines with her finger. "What does it mean?"

"It's a claiming mark. Old magic, the kind that binds souls across death itself." Twyla's voice was barely audible. "Ashwin's been marking his victims, keeping pieces of them even after they're gone. Their magic, their memories, their pain, all of it tied to him through blood and shadow."

"The girls who disappeared... they're still connected to him?"

"Worse than that." Twyla's hands trembled as she reached for something in her apron pocket. She pulled out a small mirror, its surface dark and reflective as black water. "Look."

Katniss peered into the glass and gasped.

Instead of her own reflection, she saw faces.

Pale, translucent, mouths open in silent screams. Mabel Dorsey, her red coat torn and faded.

Eliza, the girl from the '94 journal. Others she didn't recognize, all of them reaching toward the surface as if trapped beneath ice.

"They're still aware," Twyla whispered. "Still suffering. That's how he's been able to track every seer who's come here since. They call to their sisters through the Veil, trying to warn them but unable to break free of his hold."

Katniss jerked back from the mirror, her heart pounding. "That's horrible."

"It's an abomination." Twyla tucked the mirror away with hands that shook. "I've been watching for thirty years, waiting for someone strong enough to break this cycle. Someone whose magic could stand against his, whose love could heal those old wounds."

"You think I'm that someone?"

"I think you're the first seer to make it this far without losing herself.

" Twyla reached across the table again, this time grasping both of Katniss's hands.

"Every other girl ran when she learned the truth about her wolf.

About the violence in his past, the blood on his hands.

But you... you looked at Emmett's scars and saw strength, not shame. "

Katniss thought about the moment in the forest clearing when she'd kissed the old wound on Emmett's shoulder. She'd felt his pain like an echo in her bones, but also his resilience, his determination to be better than his worst moments.

"What if I'm not strong enough?" she asked quietly.

"Then we'll all find out together." Twyla squeezed her hands gently. "But I don't think that's going to happen. You've got something the others didn't."

"What's that?"

Twyla smiled. "You've got a wolf who's willing to fight for you instead of just protecting you. And that makes all the difference."

The bell above the door chimed softly, and Katniss looked up to see Emmett stepping into the café. His hair was tousled from sleep, his flannel rumpled, and there were worry lines around his storm-gray eyes that hadn't been there the night before. His night must have been just as rough as hers.

Their eyes met across the room, and something tight in her chest loosened. He didn't look angry, just relieved. Just glad to see her safe and whole and sitting in a booth with Twyla instead of wandering into danger alone.

"Morning," he said, crossing to their table with those long, measured strides. "Mind if I join you?"

"Course not," Twyla said, sliding over to make room. "I was just explaining to our girl here about the importance of good tea and better company."

Emmett settled beside Twyla, but his attention stayed fixed on Katniss. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Several, actually." Katniss gestured to her notebook. "Twyla's been filling in some gaps about Ashwin's pattern. The missing girls. Why he's targeting seers."

Emmett's expression darkened, his jaw tightening making the muscles in his neck stand out. "How much did she tell you?"

"Enough to know this isn't just about me anymore." Katniss closed her notebook and leaned forward. "He's using me to get to you. To break you."

"That's not going to happen."

"Isn't it?" She studied his face, noting the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. "When's the last time you slept through the night? Or went more than an hour without checking to make sure I'm safe?"

Emmett opened his mouth, then closed it again. She could see him realizing that she was right, that Ashwin's psychological warfare was already working.

"See?" Twyla poured Emmett a cup of tea from the pot, the liquid now a deeper amber than before. "She's got a good head on her shoulders, this one. Sees the whole picture, not just the pretty parts."

"So what do we do?" Emmett asked, accepting the tea but not drinking it. "How do we stop him?"

"We change the rules," Katniss said, surprised by the certainty in her own voice. "Every other time, the seer ran when she learned the truth. She let fear drive her away from the wolf who loved her. But what if this time, we stand and fight together?"

Twyla's eyes lit up with something that might have been hope.

Emmett reached across the table and covered Katniss's hand with his. His palm was warm, callused from years of hard work, and completely steady despite everything they'd just discussed.

"You sure about this?" he asked quietly. "Standing and fighting sounds good in theory, but Ashwin's had decades to perfect his methods. He's not going to make it easy."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is." Katniss turned her hand over beneath his, lacing their fingers together. "Besides, I didn't come here to run away from hard truths. I came here to find them."

Emmett's thumb brushed over her knuckles, a small gesture that sent warmth spiraling up her arm. "Then we do this together."

"Together," she agreed.

Twyla raised her teacup in a mock toast. "To breaking patterns and changing the rules. And to love that's stronger than fear."

They clinked their cups together, the sound ringing through the quiet café like a bell.

“Wait a second though,” Katniss interrupted and Twyla and Emmett both looked more concerned suddenly.

“You said you’ve been seeing this for 30 years. Yet, you don’t look a day over 30 yourself, if that.”

Twyla herself gave a big smirk before flicking her braid. “Oh honey, that’s the beauty of being fae. You’d never guess my real age.” And with a wink, she walked back behind the counter with her teapot.

Outside, the morning mist was finally burning off, revealing the town in all its gentle, magical glory. But Katniss no longer felt like an outsider looking in.

She felt like someone who belonged here, who had people worth fighting for.

And she felt like someone who was finally ready to fight back.