Page 57 of A Wolfe in the Woods

“I’ve spent the last eight years trying to make something of myself. I got the shiny degree, landed a job right out of school, which was more than some of my peers could say. Climbed fast. Faster than most. And I thought…just two more years. Just make it to ten. Just get that promotion and all the things I thought I wanted. The security. And my grandmother was getting older. I wanted to be able to take care of her, make her feel safe too, to get the money to help fix up the cottage so she wouldn’t have to worry about anything.” Her fingers tapped absently against the mug.

“But lately…it doesn’t feel like I’m climbing anything. It feels like I’m sinking.” There was a raw honesty in her voice, one that surprised me. Enough to straighten in my seat, my gaze glued to her, coffee going cold. “Like I’ve been racing toward this goal for so long, and now I can’t tell if it’s even real anymore. Or if I’ve just been dragging myself through quicksand, mistaking struggle for progress.”

She inhaled, blinked hard.

“I missed so many calls from her. So many invitations. I was always working. Always busy. Always telling myself I’d make it up to her when things slowed down.” A pause. “Only they never did. Life just got more hurried, and with it came a blur that caused me to lose focus of what actually mattered.Her.”

Blanche’s mouth twitched like she might cry but refused to let it show.

“She used to tell me I was meant for more. But I think her interpretation of what that was was very different than mine. And now I feel lost,” she said softly. “And it seems at one time, you were too. So, what helped? What’s the secret to finding your way again, Jonathan Wolfe?”

I blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. There was no armor or deflection, just a raw question laid bare. I wasn’t ready for it. Not because I didn’t have an answer, but because it meant admitting how long it had taken to find one. And suddenly I didn’t want to give her the kind of answer that justsoundedright. I wanted to give her one thatmeantsomething.

“There’s no secret,” I said, voice low. “Just time. And pain. And being willing to sit in both for longer than feels comfortable.”

She nodded, processing the blunt words.

“When I came back to the Hollow, I hated it. Not the trees or the quiet…just what they reminded me of. All the things I lost. The things I ran from. My childhood, my father, the parts of myself I’d buried so deep I didn’t recognize them anymore.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair.

“I used to think returning home meant failure. Like I’d proven everyone right, that I wasn’t strong enough to make it last in the bigger world. But over time the woods stopped feeling like a punishing reminder of everything I had done wrong in life…and more like a place where I could finally breathe.” My voice grew quieter. “Eventually, I realized…maybe peace isn’t something you find. Maybe it’s something youremember.” I hesitated. “And there’s still more I was hoping to show you out there. Not just the cabins or the garden or the lake, but something else. Something that might…help.”

I looked at her fully now, drawing myself up straighter. “Anyhow, I hope this next thing I want to say comes off more heartfelt than forward but…if you ever feel like taking a break from all of this,” I said, motioning vaguely to the steel-gray skyline beyond the café windows, “I’d like to invite you back out to Juniper Hollow.”

Her expression shifted. “To the B&B?”

“Not out of obligation. As my guest. On me,” I said, voice steady. “It just feels right, after everything. Not just to make amends, but because June left something behind that wasn’t meant to be carried alone. The property. The history. The choices she made. I’ve got ideas for the cottage if you want help, sure…but they don’t mean much without your voice in the mix. I think she would’ve wanted that.”

“I see.” She looked down at her lap, nibbling her bottom lip. My chest tightened, thinking she’d reject it outright. “To be honest, I’d have to think about it. I don’t know if I’d even be able to get away again anytime soon.”

“I understand. It’s an open offer with no pressure.”

Blanche looked down at her coffee, then back up at me. “Thank you.”

And something passed between us then. It wasn’t quite resolution but more of a comfortable moment of recognition. For one moment, we weren’t the same people who’d fought in the woods.

Then she added, “I work for Erik Skoll. I don’t know if that means anything to you.”

Understanding slotted into place, my lips pressing briefly. “I know who he is,” I said, meeting her gaze.

“I think all of Graymore has heard about the Skoll family. But Erik recently took over from his father. He runs things now.”

I nodded once. “Certain names echo louder in some circles than others.”

Blanchette didn’t say anything right away, just studied me over the rim of her cup like she was trying to decide if my answer had been casual…or careful.

“How do you know him?” she asked finally. “Erik.”

I hesitated. “In my old line of work, his name came up. More than once.”

Which was never a good thing.

She tilted her head slightly, not quite satisfied. “You weren’t in finance, though. You were in legal.”

“Graymore’s elite tend to blur those lines. Legal, financial, political…it’s all the same circles when you go high enough,” I said. Then I added, “And the world I came from? It’s even smaller. Certain communities tend to keep tabs on each other.”

Lycancommunities was what went unspoken.