Page 93 of Wolf's Vow

He gave me a crooked smile. “It’ll be enough.”

“Agreed.” I stood beside him. “And we’ll find out what the hell they’ve left us to fight.”

He leaned down, kissed me once—soft, sure. We left the room together.

Wolfe didn’t hesitate; he let me lead him to where Galvin lived. It was tucked in a deeper part of the Hollow, away from most footpaths.

Galvin’s house hadn’t changed. The same stone walls were stained by old weather. Same carved beams with my family’s crest—my crest—burned into the ends. A show of loyalty that always felt a little too permanent for a man who always seemed to sneer in my father’s face. As we approached, I saw that it looked empty. Unlived in.

“It’s empty,” I complained, not hiding my disappointment.

“No, it isn’t,” Wolfe murmured, leading me on.

Wolfe knocked once and didn’t wait. He pushed open the door like it was his, like this whole territory bowed beneath his boots—and in truth, it did.

But Galvin wasn’t the type to show fear. He was sitting in an old wooden chair that faced the hearth, even when the fire was cold. A mug in his hand. A blanket over his knees.

“Alpha,” he said coolly. “Daughter of the Hollow. What brings the two of you to my door this early?”

The emphasis of our titles wasn’t accidental. I wondered if he’d choke on the wordmate.

I stepped in after Wolfe and closed the door behind us. “We found some of my father’s records,” I said.

Galvin’s smile didn’t move past his lips. “I imagine they’re a mess. Malric was never the organized type.”

Wolfe didn’t sit. He just stood there, silent, towering. Not threatening. Not yet.

“Your name came up,” I continued. “In connection with rogue border agreements. Resource control. Coordinated disruption.” I watched him. “Huntingthem.”

Galvin took a slow sip of whatever was in his mug. “Ah. That. Yes. Those years were…complicated.” He gave me that empty smile again. “A girl like you wouldn’t understand.”

Chauvinist.

“Were you working with Corrin?” Wolfe asked, voice sharp and steady.

Galvin gave a slow blink. “Corrin? That boy could barely work with himself. I assume you mean in some official capacity, as advisor to your father.”

“No,” I said, stepping forward. “He means inanycapacity.”

The pause was slight. Almost imperceptible. But it was there. Galvin leaned back in his chair. “I advised Malric. That’s no secret. The troubles you refer to were…difficult. We had to manage threats. Bluff where we were weak. Negotiate when we couldn’t fight. That’s what keeps a pack alive. It’s not always clean.”

“But itshouldbe honest,” I snapped.

Now he smiled. “Honesty is a luxury leaders don’t always have. You’ll learn that, in time.”

Wolfe stepped forward. One stride. Just enough to remind the room who held power now. “When did you stop passing instructions to Corrin?”

Galvin sniffed. “I passedstrategyto your predecessor.”

Wolfe didn’t blink. “But you knew Corrin was acting on those tactics after Malric died.”

“Did I?” Galvin tilted his head. “What a terrible oversight.” His gaze flicked to me. “It’s a burden, isn’t it, girl? Seeing how the sausage is made. Your father kept this place stable by cutting deals none of you were meant to see.”

“You call it stability,” I said. “I call it betrayal.”

He chuckled. “We all callleadershipsomething different when we don’t like the taste it leaves in our mouths.”

Wolfe’s tone changed into something low and dangerous. “Corrin confessed.”