CHAPTER 40
BLANCHETTE
Juniper Hollow had finally gone still. It was like a soft exhale, the release and relief, after a violent storm, one that had rattled your bones and twisted your insides into frenzied knots.
Hours earlier, as the moon hung overhead like a nosy, eavesdropping neighbor, it had been chaos.
Fire trucks flashing red against the shadowed cabins that had survived.
Police cruisers casting blue beams against the dark, somber trees of the forest. A Nightborne firefighter had shouted orders to his men as ash fell like snow and smoke curled toward the sky like apparitions of gray ghosts.
A hybrid incubus police officer with curling horns had asked if I was okay.
Was I okay?
I was safe, I’d supposed, not knowing how to answer him.
When he’d asked the question, his hand hovering over my shoulder with concern, I’d sought out Jonathan among the chaos, my eyes flitting wildly around the wreckage of the scene.
I’d found him near a paramedic truck—a different one than the one that had taken away Erik.
He’d been in the process of getting his wounds checked out, claw marks, deep bites, long scratches that remained over his human flesh once he’d pushed the Lycan back. His blood was red, just like mine.
His eyes, however, had been glued on me, and I’d recognized the impatience over his features.
We’d barely had the chance to talk, and they’d taken our statements separately.
A special investigation squad from Graymore had helicoptered in—the Inter-Species Investigation Department, or ISID.
A human kidnapping during a Lycan conflict would make news, especially if Erik Skoll was involved.
Eldritch had stayed behind briefly to speak with them, but he’d purposefully left long before the press had ever made it the scene, likely headed for the hospital.
They hadn’t found Calder Fang Rhys, but I had no doubt that the ISID eventually would.
There weren’t many places he could hide.
With Bernie’s smoking gun against Skoll and my testimony about what had happened at the Circle of Thornblood—events I’d rather forget—I had no doubt they’d investigate it fully, that I would likely see splashy, dramatic courtroom headlines in the coming months on the front page of the Gazette.
Or maybe I won’t, I’d thought, looking back at Jonathan as a human paramedic had bandaged his ribs. His blue eyes had burned into mine, a thousand unspoken things hidden there. Maybe I’m finally done with Graymore.
Now, hours later, the Hollow was finally still.
The fire trucks had left, the police cruisers with them.
The press had lingered, hoping to get an interview with May or Jonathan, who’d pointedly ignored their clamoring questions.
Jonathan had finally threatened to give them something to write about if they didn’t get off his property, and they’d grumbled but packed up.
The ISID had come back down from the mountain, decked out in gear resembling hazmat suits, giving the all-clear, and now I watched them speak with Jonathan near the parking lot.
May was sitting beside me as we waited on a bench near the reception cabin.
“What ya saw up there,” May said quietly, holding my hand in her lap, patting the back of it, “I’m sorry for it, dear. The spirits that live here, they protect their land. Aren’t always subtle ’bout it either.”
In my mind’s eye, I saw the splattering of blood, grotesque shadow creatures, the creeping, cloying fog spreading out from the stone circles. I heard the muted screams and my own heartbeat throbbing in my ears, as if to silence them.
My body ached in a dozen different places I hadn’t noticed before. Now that the adrenaline had drained away, exhaustion pressed into my tired body.
“Growing up in town, we always heard stories about these woods,” I told May, meeting her clouded eyes, her face tipped toward mine.
I squeezed her hand. “I’m all right, if that’s what you’re asking.
I think I always understood that there were things lurking here.
And Fang and his men…they woke them up.”
I cast another look at Jonathan, who was nodding at something the agent was saying.
He was in jeans an officer had retrieved from his cabin but still barefoot in the dirt.
I was worried about him, though his wounds had been cleaned and wrapped and he’d been given a clean bill of health from the paramedic.
“Jonathan…he’d changed up there,” I said quietly. He’d saved me, protected me. But he’d been almost unrecognizable. “Became something different. More…powerful.”
More frightening.
“Jon was born on this land,” May told me. “He grew up here, breathed in this air, ran through these trees. The land has claimed him. The mountain remembers. The Lycan-kind have long been sentinels here. The blood of his ancestors was spilled protectin’ it too, and it’s a pact bound by centuries.”
Yet…he’d been ready to leave it all behind?
“He left once before,” I whispered, frowning. “Thought he wouldn’t return.”
“Then he did,” she said, a smile appearing on her face. “Because, as much as Jon tried to run from it, this land always called to him. He knows who he is now. I think he always knew…just not fightin’ it anymore. What ya saw up there…that was Jon-boy too, claimin’ his birthright to the land.”
When I looked back at Jonathan, he was looking straight at me, the other half, the Lycan in him, still evident in his gaze.
The ISID agent he’d been speaking to slammed the door to the black car that would take them back to the helipad near Everwick.
The red taillights illuminated the parking lot, the gravel crunching beneath tires, but Jonathan was striding toward me.
May patted my hand, standing. “That’s my cue to skedaddle.”
“May,” I said quickly, hanging onto her hand before she could float away. “Thank you.”
Her head tilted. “For what, dear?”
“In the woods. You were the owl, weren’t you? You helped me find my way. I don’t know if I would’ve made it out of there without you.”
May shook her head. “But you did…pretty good instincts. Maybe ya got something wild in ya too.” Then she smiled softly at me and winked.
She passed Jonathan on the path as she continued toward the reception cabin. She squeezed his arm but said nothing. I knew they’d talk later. About what happened. About the Hollow. About the fires.
But right now?
Jonathan was all mine.
When he came to me, he didn’t hesitate. He wrapped me up in his big arms, bundling me tight, dragging me up toward him until I clung to his bare shoulders and my feet left the ground.
In the crook of my neck, I felt the whistle of his nostrils as he breathed me in. I curled my fingers into his hair, my lips pressing to warm flesh. I felt his heartbeat thudding, strong and fast, against my chest.
A shudder racked through his body when I scraped my fingernails at the nape of his neck, his muscles tightening and contracting. I wanted to be even closer, if only because he made me feel safe in his arms. A little spark of desperate need zipped down my spine.
“Jonathan,” I whispered, worried. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer, only pulled me in closer and held me tightly. “I will be.”
He lowered me to the ground, and then my breath hitched as he led us down a familiar path. Toward his cabin.
Oh.
My entire body vibrated when his feet met the steps leading up to his cabin, steps he’d restored himself. Every part of this Hollow had been built or touched by him. He was everywhere, his mark on everything. And even though part of it had been destroyed, I knew Jonathan would make it whole again.
It was dark in the front room of his cabin, but in his bedroom, the full moon cast a silver beam across the sheets and part of the creaking wood floor.
My lips drifted across his shoulder, running up his neck, dragging them over the vein that pulsed strong beneath them.
A burn of need simmered low in my belly as his hands tightened on me and he lifted me again, as a low groan vibrated his chest and into mine.
“Blanche,” he said lowly. A single word. My name. A plea. And I heard the question in it as he lowered me so my feet touched the floor.
I licked my lips, tasting the saltiness of his sweat, mixed with smoky ash from the fires. When I stepped back to look up into Jonathan’s eyes, they looked like they were glowing silvery blue in the moonlight. Eerie, strange, beautiful, and familiar.
There was so much left unsaid between us. The last time we’d been together…it hadn’t ended well. He’d walked away. He’d thought I’d betrayed him. My heart had splintered, and I’d been determined to prove him wrong.
Underneath it all, however, I understood. Jonathan was still wounded after what had happened in Graymore during his career. He’d been cut deep. Someone had died because of the fallout. I knew his trust wouldn’t be an easy thing to win, and yet I still wanted it.
“I thought…” He trailed off. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his expression was one of anger. But I knew it was directed at himself. “For a moment, I thought I might’ve lost you. But then I realized I’d do whatever it took to reach you. That nothing would keep me away.”
I felt his hands come around my waist. His grip was hard, a little too strong, but I bowed into it. He was shaken. His beast was still a little too close to the surface, but I wasn’t afraid. Never of him, even in the Circle of Thornblood.
Going up onto my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to his just as he exhaled, dragging me forward. It was a rough kiss, one of demand and relief. And as it deepened, I understood.
This wasn’t just about sex. This was about reconnecting.
Not just after tonight—which I thought had rocked us both.
We were mending, piece by piece, all the tiny tears, the doubts that had kept us apart.
Erik might have poked the hole in the tapestry of our relationship, but we were the ones who had ripped at it.
This was an apology.