Page 77 of A Wolfe in the Woods

He didn’t answer right away, just bent to pluck one from the edge and rolled it between his fingers, then closed his eyes and sniffed it. “They’re safe,” he said finally. “Just strange.”

I took that as permission and got to work, my satchel open beside me. The berries were so dark they looked almost black, plump and cool to the touch, with an iridescent sheen when they caught the light. They gave easily beneath my fingers, like they wanted to be picked. Ripe, too soon, but they smelled sweet.

Jonathan moved faster than me, his head tilted slightly, eyes scanning the woods every few moments.

I spotted a full, heavy cluster near the top of a mossy bank, easily the largest I’d seen. Tempting. I climbed the short rise, boots scraping over roots and slick rock, reaching for it. I leaned further, stretching?—

And slipped.

I tumbled down the other side, but before I could hit the ground, Jonathan’s arm was around my waist, catching me just inches from the forest floor.

A shallow layer of fog clung to the ground beyond the ridge, almost like a smoke-colored sheet of ice. My feet dipped into it slightly, just brushing the mist’s surface as if breaching some invisible barrier.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low near my ear.

My heart pounded, but I didn’t pull away from him, just watched his eyes as continued watching everything else around us. A nervous short laugh fell from my lips. “Taking this pie stuff seriously, aren’t we?”

“Was your idea to enter the contest,” he said, stepping beside me.

I raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought this was just an excuse to drag me through the woods again.”

“That was part of the plan…but this”—he gestured to our surroundings—“wasn’t.”

I meant to tease him more but froze instead.

The mist thickened just beyond the slope, draping the forest in a dim veil. Through the silvery curtain and a tangle of hanging thorns, I could see something pale that shimmered that I hadn’t been able to see before…

Tall, pale stone pillars rising in a rough circle, choked by ivy. Monolithic. Ancient…like the bones of some forgotten time. Foreboding, it felt like a ghost or a mirage, one I didn’t dare approach. And that was when I realized we’d crossed some kind of boundary.

Jonathan moved fast and pulled me back over across the mossy slope. But even as he did, the fog seemed to follow, oozing over the ridge behind us. Like it was alive. Watching. Reaching.

After I regained my balance, I asked “What is that?”

“That’s the place I mentioned,” he said in firm tone. “The Circle of Thornblood. We shouldn’t be here. We need to go.Now.”

A chill slid down my spine as we climbed down briskly. Jonathan’s steps were quick, and there was a snapping tension to the air now. The mist wasfollowingus. I could feel it trailing behind, tendrils of low fog curling between tree trunks.

Halfway down the slope, he froze. I nearly bumped into him again.

“Jon…?”

He didn’t answer but swiftly held up his hand, his whole body rigid.

I looked around us but saw nothing.

Then I heard it.

A voice.

Faint. Feminine. Haunting. It sounded like an echo coming from deep in the woods.

“Help…please…” it called.

I turned my head instinctively. “I—I think someone’s hurt?—”

Jonathan’s voice cracked through the stillness. “Don’tturn around. And don’t reply. It’s not someone.”

My heart was lodged in my throat. My skin prickled with a fear I didn’t understand, but I obeyed and never turned around.