CHAPTER 36
JONATHAN
The fire department sirens wailed faintly somewhere far below the ridge. They’d reach the property soon and deal with the cabins and greenhouses. May would handle it when they arrived. She always did.
What mattered now was ahead of me.
I turned toward the mountain. The climb was brutal. The terrain rose sharply, the forest thinning as stone began to punch through the soil. I pushed harder, breath steady but strained, muscles burning as I gained elevation. It wasn’t enough. Not like this. Not with time bleeding away.
So, I made the choice.
Not a full shift. Partial. Just enough.
Fully shifting would’ve been a risk. I needed control when I reached Erik, and I wasn’t sure I’d have it if I gave myself over completely.
My balance dropped. My gait changed. My spine adjusted, center of gravity lowering.
Calves and thighs tightened, stride lengthening unnaturally, covering more ground with each lumbering step.
My senses sharpened, especially my night vision, the dark resolving into clean edges, depth and motion snapping into focus.
I moved faster than I ever could as a man, stone and root blurring beneath my feet. Heat signatures lingered faintly in the air where others had passed. Fang had come this way before breaking off. Erik’s trail cut clean, straight toward the mountain’s crown.
Before long, the Circle of Thornblood opened before me like an old wound that had never healed.
From the distance I could see the seven monolithic stones that jutted from the ground in a rough, uneven ring.
Tall and jagged, as if they’d been dragged violently upward, pulled from the earth by an unseen hand.
Ever watchful, they were half-veiled in low-lying fog.
The air inside it was heavy and hard to breathe. The pale moon hung directly overhead.
Erik was already there.
He stood at the edge of the circle nonchalantly, wardrobe immaculate despite the hike, hands clasped behind his back. Two groups flanked him at a distance. Skoll security, Lycans in human skin, spaced evenly, disciplined. Not like Fang’s clique. These ones were leashed tighter.
Blanchette wasn’t with him. My chest tightened.
When I made it down to where he stood, my breath rough, my half-shifted body quaking the earth when I leapt into the clearing, Erik smiled and offered smoothly, “You made excellent time. Seems there’s still some wolf in you yet.”
He wasn’t complimenting me. He was taunting me, toying with me.
“Where is she?” I demanded, stopping short of the circle, my voice taking on the deeper timbre of the beast within.
I didn’t step close to the stones, nor did I even cross the faint line where the granite began to meet the soil. The Circle of Thornblood was still sacred, albeit dangerous, and deserved my reverence, however wary. Even my father had treated it with respect.
Erik noticed. He tilted his head, studying me with curiosity. “Somewhere else,” he said smoothly. “Safe. Until our deal is complete.”
I didn’t trust him. Not for a second. But did I even have a choice?
His gaze flicked to my feet, then back up to my face, a faint smile touching his mouth. “Relax, I won’t hurt her. I’m not a savage,” he said. “I’m a negotiator.”
“Then bring her here,” I snapped. “That was the deal.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I’d misstepped. I was defensive. Reactive. Exactly what he wanted me to be and exactly what I was trying to avoid. It was why I hadn’t fully shifted. One wrong gesture or move and I’d be putting Blanchette in further danger.
Erik rasped, “Careful, Jonathan. You wouldn’t want to insult your guests at such a critical juncture and have everything go up in smoke. Poof.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
“You know, I really can’t figure you out,” Erik said thoughtfully.
“You’re an odd one…just like your old man.
” His gaze traveled over me, to my boots, my straining shirt against my larger body, the ash covering my hands, then back up to my soot-covered face.
“Once upon a time, you were exceptional. A killer in the courtroom. You outgrew these dirty little woods once…now look at you.”
A pause. A smile.
“You cosplay as a hermit, hide in the trees, and pretend you’re something simpler. But you’re not simple, are you?” His eyes sharpened. “A wolf without a pack is nothing. You know that. Yet you stand alone. No elders. No council. No community. Just a lone wolf…or should I say a lonely one?”
I felt the words hit me harder than I wanted. He saw it. Something in my face must have shifted, given me away, because his grin widened.
“Ah,” Erik murmured. “There it is.” His voice dropped, gaze more intent. “A wolf hiding in the dark, hoping the world forgets him.”
I forced my voice steady. “This place isn’t a stage for your grand performance, Erik. Let’s finish our business and leave. This forest doesn’t take kindly to being disturbed.”
He laughed, short, sharp, genuinely amused.
“Are you really afraid of this place?” he asked.
“A ring of old stones?” He shook his head.
“I never took you for the superstitious type, believing in old ghost stories. Urban legends. Just a bunch of old ruins…like the rest of this land. But don’t worry—I’ll make good use of it. ”
I didn’t reply. My attention was locked onto his feet. Onto the faint line where granite met soil.
Erik noticed. Of course he did. His gaze flicked to my face, caught the tension I couldn’t fully hide, and something darkly delighted sparked behind his eyes. Then, deliberately, he stepped forward. His boot crossed the boundary and broke the low fog.
The air shifted, like the way the pressure dropped before a storm. A low hum crept through the ground, subtle but insistent, vibrating up through the soles of my boots, barely noticeable.
“Are you afraid, Black Wolf?” he asked casually. Not a care in the world.
I still didn’t answer.
“If you want your prize, you’ll have to join me. We’ll settle this the old way.”
My jaw tightened. He was treating Blanche like a toy, an item to be won. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But it’s fun. Come, indulge me. You want Blanchette?”
My jaw tightened. I looked past him to his men spaced along the perimeter, then to the trees beyond. To the night pressing close. I felt the circle watching us. I drew in a slow breath and stepped forward cautiously.
The moment my boot crossed the boundary, the wind rose.
Air snapped inward, spiraling fast around the circle.
Dust and loose leaves lifted, spinning into a tightening ring.
The fog that clung low to the seven stones surged upward, thickening.
And then the stones were gone, swallowed whole by the fog as if they had never stood there at all.
The world outside the Circle of Thornblood blurred.
One of Erik’s men shifted uneasily. Another glanced over his shoulder. The trees beyond the stones bent toward us.
Erik frowned, briefly distracted. I felt it settle then—a pressure like hands closing in around us. We were enclosed inside a boundary.
“Shall we begin?” Erik asked.
He didn’t wait for my answer.
The first blow came fast—an inhuman strike. Erik’s quick fist caught me partially across the jaw. I barely got my forearm up in time, the impact ringing all the way to my elbow as I staggered back.
I reset. Planted my feet. Ready this time.
He came again.
I countered, driving a punch toward his face with everything I had. Erik shifted at the last possible second. My knuckles still caught his cheekbone, but barely. A scratch at best.
Before I could recover, he hit me again. A sharp, precise blow to the ribs.
I lunged a second time, anger bleeding into my timing…and missed. He was already gone, slipped past me like smoke, repositioning before I could even fully turn around.
Too quick, I thought. At this pace, I won’t last.
He came again.
I countered, catching him under his jaw.
Hard. Whipping his head to the side. He touched his cheek with two fingers, and that was when I finally saw the break in his facade.
A thread of anger gleamed, the one he masked with smiles that never reached his eyes and flippant words meant to keep others in their places.
He’s angry now. Good.
He fought like a tactician, testing angles and cataloging weaknesses.
We traded blows. His were sharp and accurate.
Mine were heavy and misguided. He slipped past me, caught my arm, twisted hard enough to send pain lancing up my shoulder.
I snarled despite myself and tore free. I fought like a man who refused to fall.
Blocked when I couldn’t dodge. Took hits I shouldn’t have.
I need to get closer, I realized. I couldn’t match his speed, but I could have the advantage in strength.
I drove forward. My shoulder slammed into his chest, forcing him back a step, and in that brief moment of surprise, I wrapped my arms around his waist. I pivoted hard, swung him through the motion, and pile-drove him into the ground.
He jumped up before circling me slowly, eyes bright, calculating. No longer amused.
The air inside the circle felt tighter now. Charged. I felt it then—the pull. The heat under my skin. The part of me that wanted to stop holding back in this skin.
No. Not yet.
I forced it down, gritting my teeth, dragging breath into my lungs.
Erik’s gaze sharpened. “You’re resisting it,” he murmured. “How noble…and pointless. Enough pretending. I want to see you for who you really are.”
The change rolled through him like a controlled detonation. Bones shifted beneath skin with a wet, grinding sound. His posture lengthened, broadened. His eyes burned gold, pupils slicing thin, dark against a mantle of his white fur. Fangs descended with a sound like steel unsheathing.
Behind him, his men stirred. One by one, they followed. Shoulders cracked, jaws lengthened, eyes ignited in the dark. A pack forming on instinct, driven by its leader.
The pull slammed into me then—hard, urgent, and feral.
Shift. Take it. End this.
My claws ached beneath my skin. My teeth pressed painfully against my gums. Every instinct screamed to answer.
I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because if I gave in, if I let myself become nothing but teeth and rage, I wouldn’t be fighting for Blanchette anymore. I’d be fighting for myself.
And that was Erik’s game.
I planted my feet, breath shaking, sweat burning cold across my spine. “No,” I growled. Not to him. To the thing inside me. “Let’s end this. The land’s yours. I only want Blanchette. No more games.”
His voice changed, emerging from the creature he’d become. “The game’s just begun.”
He lifted one clawed hand without looking back. They moved. One from the left, one from behind. I twisted, lashed out, caught one of them by the throat and slammed him into the stone hard enough to crack granite.
I’d barely dropped the first Lycan when the pack swarmed, claws and fangs tearing at me. Pain bloomed everywhere at once. A strike to my temple. A gash to my arm. A bite to my hind leg. I was being torn to pieces from every direction. I rolled, just missing a blow intended to crush my throat.
Erik didn’t join in. He circled while he watched. He was enjoying the spectacle of it…like a grand conductor. Letting his men soften me up like dogs ravaging a stag.
He called arrogantly over the scuffle, “You know the problem with lone wolves? There’s never a pack to save you.”
I spat blood, tried to rise…but several hands slammed me back down.
A clawed hand locked my shoulder in place.
Another at my throat. My arms were wrenched back, my chest crushed into the stone, weight bearing down from every side.
I thrashed, snarled, landed a blind elbow into someone’s ribs. But it didn’t matter.
His pack had me.
Erik prowled close, unhurried, more arrogant than ever now. His white-furred form loomed, eyes burning gold. One of his Lycans tightened their grip, forcing my head back, baring my throat. Erik leaned in until his breath brushed my skin. His jaws parted slowly.
With his fangs close to my neck, threatening, he rumbled, “You don’t lose because you’re weak, Jonathan. You lose because you’re alone.”
His jaws clamped down.
Pain exploded. I crumpled over, breath tearing from me, vision tunneling. Around us, the wind howled louder now, stones hummed beneath me, the ground vibrated like a living thing waking from a deep slumber. And as the darkness closed in, I felt it…
The Circle of Thornblood was coming alive.