Page 137 of A Wolfe in the Woods

And all the while, I never left Jonathan’s side.

I needed to be here. With him. Present. And I was.

Jonathan…my Wolfe who came to protect me.

By the time we reached the Hollow, the worst of the night had already begun to settle into memory. Emergency lights flashed between the trees where police and paramedics moved around urgently and smell of faint smoke still clung to the air.

May stood near the edge of the path when we arrived, wrapped in a shawl, relief washing across her face once she sensed us. She pulled me into a tight embrace when we finally got close.

“The cabins…” Jonathan inquired quietly, gaze drifting toward where the fires had burned earlier.

“Eight through eleven are gone,” she said softly. “We’ll rebuild. Hollow’s still here and we’re safe. All that matters.”

He barely nodded in agreement, exhausted, his wounds having now begun to heal.

A familiar voice called from behind us. “Blanche! Thank the gods.”

Bernie pushed through the small cluster of deputies standing nearby, looking rumpled but unmistakably proud of himself. “You’re all right?” he asked, his expression tight with worry.

“I’m fine, Bernie,” I said, placing my hand briefly on his shoulder. “How are you here? What happened?”

He blew out a long breath, his shoulders loosening a bit after he looked me over. Besides some dirt streaking my clothing, I hadn’t received so much as a cut. After a loud swallow, Bernie said, “Soon as I got the data you sent, I went straight to the police and the feds. Your friend, Megan, she had already got a couple units sent out. Timing couldn’t have been better either.” He jerked a thumb toward the activity across the clearing. “Looks like they arrived just in time.”

Relieved, I hugged him. “Where is Megan?”

“I called her to let her know they found you. She’s back in Graymore, still giving reports to the police. I promised to have you call her once you’re checked over.”

“Thank you, Bernie,” I said. “Thank you both.”

Just then, I saw a paramedic wheeling a stretcher across the drive.

Erik Skoll lay strapped to it, pale and bloodied while paramedics worked quickly around him. Several armed officers surrounded the stretcher, their posture rigid as they escorted it toward a waiting ambulance.

Suddenly two beams of light pierced the clearing. A sleek black car rolled to a stop, its engine humming quietly before the door opened and a tall, silver-haired man stepped out. Once he closed the door and turned around, I could see him more clearly.

Eldritch Skoll.

He approached the stretcher slowly, his expression concerned as he looked down at Erik.

“Why, son?” Eldritch said painfully, though some anger beneath his voice carried across the distance. “I’ve given you everything. Education, position, opportunity…”

Erik turned his face away from his father’s eyes in shame as the paramedics lifted the stretcher toward the ambulance.

Eldritch continued. “You were supposed to carry the Skoll name. Our company and everything I built.”

The ambulance doors swung open.

He turned away as the officers began loading the stretcher inside. For a moment he didn’t move at all, his shoulders heavy, the posture of a man who looked less like a powerful businessman and more like someone standing at a funeral. The flashing lights washed over his face, but he said nothing more.

The doors slammed shut.

Slowly, Eldritch turned back. His gaze drifted until it found me, and for a brief moment I could see deep regret across his face. He lowered his head and gave a small bow—an apology that carried more weight than anything he might have spoken.

Then he walked back to his waiting car.

The ambulance pulled away first under police escort, its lights fading down the road. A moment later, Eldritch’s car followed, the dark vehicle slipping quietly into the night.

Beside me, Jonathan’s hand tightened around mine.