Chapter 2: The Threat Unveiled

The morning light crept into Silver Hollow, filtering through the dense trees and casting long shadows over the village. Callan paced along the edge of the woods, mind heavy with the memory of the rogue woman’s song. Her voice still lingered in his thoughts, weaving through his senses like a dream he couldn’t quite shake.

“You’re up early,” Finn’s voice broke the quiet. The Beta stood behind him, arms folded, his gaze sharp and curious.

Callan turned, catching Finn’s knowing smirk. “I could say the same for you.”

Finn shrugged, his smile widening. “When the Alpha leaves his bed to wander the forest before dawn, I tend to get a little curious.”

Callan sighed, brushing a hand through his dark hair. “It’s nothing. Just a rogue.”

Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “A rogue? And you let her stay?”

“Until dawn.” Callan’s tone left no room for argument, though he knew Finn well enough to expect some pushback.

“Dangerous move,” Finn replied, his face darkening. “You know how the pack feels about outsiders. Especially with everything going on.”

Callan didn’t respond, his gaze drifting back to the trees. The past few months had been tense, filled with whispers of human hunters lurking too close to their borders, rumors of silver weapons forged to harm their kind. Allowing a rogue into their territory—even for one night—was a risk, but something about Liana held him back from driving her away.

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft on us,” Finn jokes, his voice light but eyes sharp.

Callan shot him a look. “She’s not a threat. At least, not yet.”

Finn sighed, following Callan’s gaze toward the forest. “Not every threat comes with bared teeth, you know. Some come with smiles. Or songs.”

“Noted,” Callan replied, though he couldn’t ignore the truth in Finn’s words. “But I trust my instincts, and they’re telling me she’s not our enemy.”

“Instincts are one thing,” Finn muttered, “but the pack will want answers.”

“And they’ll get them,” Callan assured him, though he wasn’t sure what answers he’d give.

Just then, the sound of rustling caught their attention. Both men turned, muscles tense, as Liana emerged from the shadows, her face unreadable but her eyes sharp and steady. She stopped a few paces away, folding her arms with a quiet defiance that seemed natural to her.

“You’re still here,” Callan noted, keeping his tone measured.

“Dawn’s just breaking,” Liana replied, a hint of challenge in her voice. “I’m not one to break a promise.”

“Good to know,” Callan said, crossing his arms. “You mentioned last night you’d heard of Silver Hollow. Care to explain how?”

Liana shrugged, though there was tension in her posture. “Word gets around. For those who know where to listen.”

“Interesting.” Callan’s gaze didn’t waver. “What else have you heard?”

A flicker of hesitation crossed her face, but she recovered quickly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “That you’ve got a strong pack. One that stays hidden. And that there are some out there who don’t take kindly to that.”

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Finn’s face tightened beside Callan. They all knew the risks of being discovered by those outside their world—especially humans who saw them as little more than monsters.

“And what about you?” Finn cut in, his voice laced with suspicion. “What’s your interest in us?”

Liana’s lips curved into a small, humorless smile. “Maybe I was just looking for a place where I could finally stop running.”

Callan’s gaze softened, though he kept his expression neutral. There was a weight to her words, something unspoken that hinted at a history he hadn’t yet uncovered. “Running from what?”

Her gaze flicked between them, guarded. “The same thing we’re all running from—those who think we’re better off in chains or worse.” Her voice held a faint tremor, as if the words were drawn from a deep well of pain and fear.

Finn opened his mouth to respond, but Callan held up a hand, signaling him to stop. He could see the truth in her eyes, the kind of scars that ran too deep to be spoken of casually.

“Stay.” The word escaped his mouth before he could think it through, surprising even himself.

Liana’s eyes widened briefly, but she quickly schooled her expression, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect that,” she said, though her voice betrayed a hint of relief.

“Neither did I,” Finn muttered under his breath, though he was careful to keep his voice low.

Callan ignored him, his gaze steady on Liana. “You can stay. But under one condition.”

Liana crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “Name it.”

“You prove you’re not a threat. Help us protect this place. If you’re serious about finding somewhere to stop running, then you’ll do what’s necessary to keep it safe.”

A flicker of something—maybe gratitude, maybe relief—crossed her face, though she quickly masked it with her usual guarded expression. “Fine. I can do that.”

“Then it’s settled,” Callan replied, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders, though a sliver of doubt still lingered. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Liana nodded, a hint of a smile breaking through her defenses. “Looking forward to it.”

But as she turned to leave, Callan caught a flash of movement in the trees. A shadow—silent, watching—before it disappeared into the forest.

Someone had been listening.

Without a word, Callan’s gaze hardened. The pack’s suspicion, already simmering, had just become a boiling threat.

Callan’s eyes narrowed, his senses sharpening as he scanned the trees. The shadow was gone, but he knew too well how rumors could infect a pack, how suspicion could poison trust faster than any enemy. He needed to act quickly, to hold the fragile balance he’d just offered Liana before someone else ripped it apart.

Finn caught his gaze, his mouth pressing into a grim line. “You think they’ll listen?”

“They’ll have to,” Callan replied, though his tone held a resolve born of experience, not hope. “And if they don’t, they’ll have to answer to me.”

Liana, who had been halfway back to the clearing, stopped and turned. She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and caution. “Everything alright?” she asked, though there was a knowing edge to her voice, as if she sensed the undercurrent of tension tightening around them all.

Callan hesitated, then nodded. “For now.”

“For now,” she repeated, folding her arms. “I’m guessing that’s as close as I’ll get to a welcome.”

“You’re not here for pleasantries,” Callan replied, his gaze steady. “You said you’d help, so prove it. This isn’t a game. You understand that, right?”

She gave a soft, humorless laugh, and for a moment, something vulnerable flashed across her face, like an old wound barely hidden under armor. “If it were a game, I’d have stopped playing a long time ago.”

The weight of her words hung between them, thick with unspoken histories and scars. Callan almost wanted to ask, to pull those stories from her and understand what drove her here. But he stopped himself. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not now.

“Good,” he said instead. “Then we start tonight. There’s a patrol route along the northern border that’s been… unstable.”

Her eyebrows rose, the hint of a challenge flickering in her eyes. “You think I can handle that?”

“I think you’d better.” His reply was sharp, but not unkind. There was a test in his words, an invitation for her to prove herself. “Or is that going to be a problem?”

She straightened, lifting her chin. “I can handle it.”

“Good,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes remained cautious. “Meet me at dusk by the old watchtower.”

Liana nodded, her gaze intense, as if committing his words to memory. Then, without another word, she turned and headed back toward the village, disappearing into the winding path that led to the outer ring of cottages. Callan watched her go, a thousand unasked questions swirling in his mind.

The woods settled into quiet once more, and he turned to Finn, who was studying him with that familiar, scrutinizing look.

“Are you sure about this?” Finn asked, his voice low but edged with concern.

“No,” Callan replied, voice as steady as the trees around them. “But I’m not sure we have any other choice.”

Finn’s face softened, though the worry lingered in his gaze. “If the pack hears about this… if they even suspect you’re letting a rogue into our territory…”

“They won’t,” Callan interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if they do, I’ll deal with it. We’ve had strangers here before.”

“Not like this,” Finn replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not in times like these.”

Callan turned back to the trees, a heaviness settling over him as he considered the weight of Finn’s words. He knew all too well how fragile the peace within Silver Hollow was, how easily it could shatter under the pressure of fear and suspicion. But something told him Liana’s presence wasn’t the danger he needed to be watching.

No, that shadow lurking in the woods—the one that had listened and slipped away in silence—that was the real threat. And it was one he intended to find.

“Keep your eyes open,” he said to Finn, his voice low and firm. “Anyone watching the patrols, anyone asking questions, I want to know about it.”

Finn nodded, his expression unreadable but resolute. “I’ll keep watch. And if there’s trouble…”

“Then we’ll deal with it.” Callan’s gaze hardened, his tone carrying the unyielding authority that had kept his pack together for years. “Whatever it takes.”

With a final nod, Finn turned and headed back toward the heart of the village, leaving Callan alone with the silence of the forest. He stood there for a moment longer, letting the tension of the night settle into his bones, grounding him.

Then, with a quiet breath, he slipped back into the shadows, following the same path that Liana had taken.