Page 27 of A Wolfe in the Woods

I nodded quickly, trying to brush it off with a small laugh. “The first night I was here…I heard one of them. Right outside my door. It scared the hell out of me.”

“Well, they’re everywhere here,” he said softly. “Their territory. For centuries.”

I swallowed, eyes scanning the shadows surrounding us. “Right.”

“But contrary to what people say, they won’t harm you if you leave them alone. Just stay inside and keep your door locked. You’ll be fine.”

I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said softly.

We stood there a second longer, both not quite sure what to say next.

Finally, I turned, reaching for the doorknob. “Thanks again. Have a good night.” He just nodded back in acknowledgment.

I stepped inside, looking back one last time. Jonathan was still standing there. Watching. Waiting.

His eyes caught a sliver of moonlight, just enough to produce a metal-like gleam.

With a flit of a smile, I closed the door. Turned the lock and leaned my back against it.

My heart was pounding. Not from fear but from something else entirely.

Meg would be thrilled.

CHAPTER 9

BLANCHETTE

“Okay,” Megan purred, “but please tell me he at least rearranged a few stars in your sky. You’ve been in a moonlit forest alone with a tall, broody lumberbeast who looks like he was carved by horny forest spirits and bench-presses trees as foreplay. Don’t tell me you didn’t let him take a single bite.” There was a wicked pause on the other end, followed by a half-giggling, half-feral, “Mmmrrowr.”

“Meg,” I groaned, torn between laughing and puddling down onto the floor in exasperated embarrassment. “You really think I’d do something like that?”

“Not even a little nibble?”

“I barely know the guy!”

“That’s what makes it so delicious!” she cried out. “You’re supposed to lose yourself in the experience, Bee. That’s the whole point! Otherwise it’s not a retreat, it’s just…exile with prettier trees.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you,” I sighed. I was twirling the cord of the landline around my finger, feeling like a character in a 1990s sitcom. Iwasgoing a little stir crazy from the lack of internet, enough to brave the hot summer sun soon, equippedwith a high SPF. “Can I come back to Graymore already? I’ll be as red as a tomato soon.”

The moment the words slipped out of my lips I remembered the interaction with Jonathan last night. The way those eyes had fastened tight on me…like I was prey. I nearly shivered.

“No. Especially not now that you’re flirting with this hot forest daddy,” Meg said, her tone practically gleeful.

“He’s not a forest daddy. My gods, where do you come up with these names?” I asked, exasperated, shaking my head. “And I’m not flirting.”

I heard her pull the phone away from her ear to speak with someone in the background.

“Lumerian ethar vesh’ara, talorien serai…”

The melodic sound of her native tongue rolled through the receiver, sharp but elegant. I didn’t speak Elvish, but I knew the sound of high-level business when I heard it. Whomever she was talking to, I recognized the no-nonsense clip to the words.

Most people underestimated Megan. They saw the beauty, the dramatics, the relentless teasing. But what they didn’t see—or chose to overlook—was how sharp she really was.

She could be a pain in the ass, sure…but beneath all the diamonds and glitter, she was highly intelligent, impossibly quick, and fiercely competent. Even if she liked to pretend otherwise.

“Where are you?” I asked, brow furrowing.

“Coordinating for an event tonight,” she replied, then lightly added, “You can come back home.”