Page 21 of Mate Night Snack (Hollow Oak Mates #2)

KATNISS

T he Council Glade looked like something out of a fever dream painted in moonlight and shadow.

Ancient trees formed a perfect circle around the clearing, their massive trunks twisted with age and carved with symbols that seemed to shift and writhe when Katniss wasn't looking directly at them.

Spanish moss hung from the branches like tattered curtains, stirring in a breeze that carried whispers in languages she didn't recognize.

The moon hung directly overhead, full and silver-bright, casting everything in sharp relief.

But this wasn't ordinary moonlight. This was something older, wilder, charged with magic that made the air itself feel alive.

"Stay close," Emmett murmured beside her, his hand finding the small of her back as they approached the sacred space. "Council gatherings can get intense."

"Define intense," she whispered back.

"Politics with claws," he said simply.

They weren't the first to arrive. Maeve Cross stood near the eastern stone, her short black hair gleaming like polished obsidian in the moonlight.

She'd traded her usual casual clothes for a fitted black blazer and dark jeans, looking every inch the dangerous predator she was.

Her golden-brown eyes tracked their approach with keen interest, and she offered Katniss a nod that felt like approval.

Miriam emerged from between two trees, moving with the quiet grace of someone comfortable in sacred spaces. Her silver hair was pinned back with what looked like bone combs.

"Evening, sweetheart," Miriam said warmly, reaching out to squeeze Katniss's hand. Her fingers were cool but comforting.

Katniss smoothed her clothes, nerves making her fidgety. "I wasn't exactly prepared for formal supernatural politics."

"None of us ever are, the first time." Miriam's eyes twinkled with gentle humor. "But you'll do fine. Just remember, they're more afraid of you than you are of them."

"That's what people say about bears," Katniss pointed out. "Right before they get mauled."

More figures began to emerge from the forest paths, moving with the quiet confidence of people who belonged in places like this.

Katniss recognized some faces from around town, but seeing them here, in this charged atmosphere, made them seem different.

More. Like they'd shed their everyday masks to reveal something wilder underneath.

Twyla appeared beside one of the northern stones as if she'd grown from the earth itself. Her wheat-colored hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, woven with tiny silver bells that chimed softly as she moved.

Katniss watched as Twyla took her place beside what was clearly a designated spot. "Are there assigned positions?"

"Council members and town elders get the stones," he explained quietly. "Everyone else fills in around the circle according to... let's call it social hierarchy mixed with magical ability."

"Where do we go?"

"Wherever Varric tells us."

As if summoned by his name, the wolf elder stepped into the clearing from the southern path.

Varric Thornwell commanded attention without effort, his presence filling the space like the scent of ozone before a storm.

His long silver braids hung over his shoulders like cords of moonlight, adorned with small bones and polished stones that caught the ethereal glow.

His eyes, the color of storm clouds, swept the gathering with ancient authority.

Behind him walked a man Katniss hadn't met, though she recognized the type.

Elder Bram looked like every conservative politician she'd ever seen, if conservative politicians came with supernatural abilities and attitudes carved from granite.

His gray beard was perfectly trimmed, his dark robes immaculate, and his pale eyes held the kind of cold judgment that made her instinctively want to check if she was properly covering everything.

"That's not a friendly face," she whispered to Emmett.

"Bram's old school," he replied, voice carefully neutral. "Believes in keeping the supernatural world separate from the human one. Doesn't much like outsiders, especially ones with unpredictable gifts."

"Well, this should be fun."

Varric raised his hand, and the clearing fell silent with the kind of immediate hush that spoke of deeply ingrained respect. Or fear. Possibly both.

"We gather under the full moon to witness the formal recognition of Katniss Greaves," his voice carried easily across the space, rich and resonant as thunder rolling through mountain valleys.

"A human-born seer who has found sanctuary within our borders and seeks official protection under our ancient laws. "

A murmur rippled through the crowd, not unfriendly but definitely curious. Katniss felt dozens of eyes on her, studying, evaluating, weighing her worth against whatever criteria these people used to judge outsiders.

"Step forward, Katniss Greaves," Varric commanded.

Emmett's hand squeezed her waist once, a brief touch of encouragement, before she walked alone into the center of the stone circle.

The air here was even more charged, crackling with power that made her skin tingle and her seer abilities hum with awareness.

She could feel the weight of history in this place, decades or maybe centuries of rituals and gatherings and decisions that shaped the community around her.

"State your name and your business in Hollow Oak," Varric said formally.

"Katniss Greaves." Her voice came out steadier than she felt, carrying clearly in the hushed space. "I came here following a cold case about a missing girl. But I stayed because I found something I didn't know I was looking for."

"And what was that?"

She glanced around the circle, taking in faces both familiar and strange, human and decidedly other. Her gaze found Emmett's storm-gray eyes, and the answer came easily.

"Home."

Another murmur, this one warmer. Approving. Miriam smiled, and even Maeve looked pleased. But Elder Bram's expression remained carved from disapproval.

"You possess the sight," Varric continued. "Visions that pierce the Veil between worlds. This gift is both powerful and dangerous. Do you understand the responsibility that comes with such abilities?"

"I'm starting to," Katniss said honestly. "The visions aren't just random images. They're connected to this place, to the people here. To threats that could hurt the community."

"Indeed." Varric began to pace around the stone circle, his braids swaying with each step. "Seers are rare, particularly those with the strength to withstand the Veil's influence without losing themselves. But rarity does not equal safety."

Elder Bram stepped forward, his pale eyes fixed on Katniss with laser intensity. "If I may, Elder Varric."

"Speak, Elder Bram."

"This woman brings chaos." His voice was clipped, precise, carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "Since her arrival, we've had Veil disturbances, prophetic dreams, and reports of rogue pack activity at our borders. She is a magnet for trouble."

"Now wait just a minute," Twyla interjected, her bells chiming as she moved. "That's like blaming the canary for the gas in the mine. She's not causing these problems, she's warning us about them."

"Is she?" Bram's gaze never left Katniss. "Or is her very presence drawing threats that would otherwise pass us by?"

The question hung in the charged air like a blade. Katniss felt her cheeks burn, not with embarrassment but with rising anger.

"You want to know what I see?" she said, her voice gaining strength.

"I see a town that's been hiding from its problems for so long, it's forgotten how to face them.

I see missing girls whose stories were buried instead of solved.

I see people so afraid of change that they'd rather sacrifice safety for the illusion of peace. "

Bram's eyes narrowed. "You see what you choose to see. The visions of seers can be influenced by their own desires, their own fears. How do we know your prophecies are truth and not merely projection?"

"Because they've been accurate so far," Emmett said quietly, but his voice carried to every corner of the clearing. "She saw the Veil disturbance before it happened. She saw the rogue pack signs before we found them. She's been right about everything that matters."

"Emmett Hollowell speaks for you," Varric observed, stopping his pacing to study them both. "This is significant. A wolf's mate-bond creates strong protective instincts, but it can also cloud judgment."

"We're not bonded through compulsion," Katniss said quickly. "We chose each other. Our connection isn't based on magical fate, it's based on trust and shared goals and genuine affection."

Varric's eyebrows rose slightly. "Interesting. And rare. Most supernatural matings follow the old patterns."

"Most supernatural matings don't involve a human who refuses to be told what to do," Maeve added dryly, earning a few chuckles from the crowd.

"The question remains," Bram pressed, "whether granting her formal protection is worth the risks she brings. Her presence has already destabilized our carefully maintained peace."

"What peace?" The words burst out of Katniss before she could stop them. "You've got missing girls, rogue packs circling your borders, and a community so afraid of the outside world that it's turned isolation into a religion. That's not peace, that's willful blindness."

Elder Bram's face flushed with anger, while Varric watched her with approval.

"You speak boldly for someone asking for sanctuary," Bram said coldly.

"I speak honestly for someone who sees what's really happening here." Katniss lifted her chin, meeting his glare without flinching. "You can grant me protection or not, but these problems existed long before I arrived. Ignoring them won't make them go away."