CHAPTER 15 #3
“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.”
Lycan communities was what went unspoken.
Something in her expression sharpened, curious now. Watching. Like she’d heard a thread of something she couldn’t name but wanted to pull.
Before she could respond, a shadow crossed the table.
“Blanchette.”
His voice slid in like smoke from behind.
Erik Skoll.
The inner beast was rumbling now. Like recognized like.
She turned fast. “Erik. I mean, Mr. Skoll.”
“I thought that was you,” he said, flashing teeth. “Imagine my surprise. I was just walking past, and well, here you are.”
He looked at me then, extended a hand.
Too smooth. Too slow.
“Erik Skoll,” he introduced himself.
I stood. His grip was firm, but not to greet. To gauge.
To challenge.
“Jonthan Wolfe,” I replied.
His brow ticked. Barely. “Ah,” Erik said, voice smooth as black ice. “Of course. The infamous Wolfe. Graymore’s prodigal son. Premier legal counsel turned ghost. I’d heard you disappeared.”
“Retired,” I said flatly.
He didn’t let go right away. Not until he’d delivered the message behind his grin: I see you. I know what you are.
And I let my hand fall to my side without flinching.
“That’s too bad,” he continued, adjusting his cuff. “Premier legal counsel is a rare gem indeed. If you happen to change your mind…” His eyes cut sideways. “Reach out. I’m sure Blanchette here can connect us.”
Blanche didn’t speak. In real time, I watched her curl inward—subtle but visible. Her shoulders shrank. Her chin dipped.
Possession.
That was how he looked at her.
Like something owed. Claimed.
Pack claim.
I rested my arm casually on the back of her chair. Present, to remind her I was there. To remind Erik too.
My jaw clenched. I tilted my head, studying him. He was taller than I expected. Leaner, but wiry. The kind of body built for pacing and cornering, but not running, or enduring.
His shoes were too clean. Nails buffed and trimmed. No scent of the woods—just cologne and polish. But behind the polish, I could smell it.
Alpha. But not earned. Given. Or taken.
“The Wolfe family…you own half of Juniper Woods, don’t you?” Erik murmured, gaze pinned. I never looked away. “That’s beautiful property you have up there. Heard you opened a motel on the land.”
A slow rivulet of warning trailed down my chest.
“I wasn’t aware Skoll Corp was branching into hospitality,” I said, tone even. “Or forestry.”
“We’re not,” he replied, flashing that same tight grin. “But we keep an eye on the region. Growth matters.”
“Funny,” I said, “I always thought growth required roots.”
His eyes flicked, just once. “But some things thrive in greenhouses,” he said coolly. “With the right structure.”
He’s been watching, I knew.
I let the silence stretch before I said, “I’m sure they do. But some things aren’t meant to be kept under glass.”
A beat.
Blanche’s eyes were bouncing between us like we were speaking a language she couldn’t quite hear. The tension was palpable.
Erik’s smile thinned. “Well,” he said, straightening his collar. “Don’t let me interrupt. Blanchette, I’ll see you up there. Don’t take too long. I need to brief you on the meeting with Vulcan.”
And just before he turned, he gave me one more look.
Not a threat. Not yet.
But a warning.
And I didn’t blink.