The Wolf I Buried

Chapter 11

Full Moon Approaching

The invitation arrived three days later.

Not by mail. Not by text. By Evelyn Blackwood herself. Which was considerably more difficult to ignore.

Elena opened her front door to find the elegant older woman standing on the porch with a casserole dish in her hands. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Evelyn sighed dramatically.

"Please tell me you've eaten something besides coffee this week."

Elena blinked.

"Good afternoon to you, too."

"That wasn't an answer."

Elena stepped aside immediately.

"Come in."

Evelyn entered with the confidence of someone who had spent years walking through the Blackwood family home and had extended that privilege to everyone else. Tall and graceful, with silver-blonde hair swept neatly over one shoulder, she carried herself with effortless dignity.

She always had. Even after losing her husband. Even after losing her son. Grief had changed her. But it hadn't broken her. At least not publicly.

The casserole dish found its way to the kitchen counter. Evelyn immediately began inspecting the contents of Elena's refrigerator. A habit Elena strongly suspected was illegal.

"You have yogurt."

"I do."

"You have orange juice."

"Correct."

"You have three different kinds of coffee creamer."

Elena crossed her arms.

"I sense judgment."

"I'm actively judging you."

A laugh escaped before she could stop it. The sound surprised them both. Evelyn's expression softened instantly. The warmth in her eyes almost hurt. Because it reminded Elena of all the times Evelyn had looked at her like that before. Before the funeral. Before the grave. Before everything.

For a brief moment, silence settled between them. Not uncomfortable. Just sad. Shared grief had a way of creating its own language. Eventually, Evelyn cleared her throat.

"Come to dinner tomorrow."

The request arrived so casually that it took Elena a second to process it.

"Dinner?"

"Dinner."

"Evelyn."

"That's my name."

Elena rolled her eyes.

The older woman looked entirely too pleased with herself.

"You don't have to keep checking on me."

"I know."

The answer came immediately. Without hesitation. Without pity. Which somehow made it harder to argue.

Evelyn adjusted the sleeve of her cardigan. A small nervous habit Elena had only noticed after Ronan died. The realization made her chest tighten because grief lived in Evelyn, too. Perhaps even more deeply. She had lost both her husband and her son. Yet somehow she still found time to worry about everyone else.

"Please come."

The words were quiet.

Honest. Lonely.

And suddenly Elena realized this wasn't just about her. Evelyn needed family, too. The thought settled heavily in her chest.

"Okay."

Relief flashed across Evelyn's face. Gone almost immediately. But Elena caught it. And for the first time in a long while, she felt something dangerously close to guilt. Because she'd been so consumed by her own loss that she'd forgotten others were carrying it too.

The following evening found Elena standing outside the Blackwood estate. The sight still stole her breath. The house sat atop a gentle rise overlooking acres of forest. Large windows glowed warmly against the gathering dusk. The surrounding property stretched endlessly toward the tree line.

Beautiful. Peaceful. Familiar.

She'd spent years here. Birthdays. Holidays. Movie nights—family dinners. For a long time, it had felt like a second home. Then Ronan died. After that, returning became harder.

Not impossible. Just painful.

Elena climbed the front steps. Before she could knock, the door swung open. Rowan Blackwood stood there. And immediately wrapped her in a hug.

"Nope."

Elena laughed.

"What do you mean, nope?"

"No knocking."

Rowan pulled her inside.

"Family doesn't knock."

The words hit harder than they should have. Because for a moment—just a moment—it felt normal. Like nothing had changed. Like Ronan might appear from another room any second. The thought hurt.

As always.

Rowan seemed to sense it. Her smile softened. Just slightly. Then she squeezed Elena's hand. Once. Silent understanding.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Rowan looked so much like Alaric that it was almost unfair. The same dark hair. The same sharp jawline. The same intense silver-gray eyes. Yet where Alaric had projected calm authority, Rowan projected restless energy.

She moved constantly. Talked constantly. Lived loudly. It was impossible not to like her. The dining room was already set.

Evelyn appeared from the kitchen carrying another dish. Apparently, feeding people was her preferred love language. The meal began normally.

Comfortably.

Stories. Laughter. Memories. The sort of conversation Elena hadn't realized she'd missed. For a little while, she forgot about investigations. Forgot about paw prints. Forgot about mysteries. Then Rowan made the mistake of asking:

"So what have you been up to lately?"

Evelyn closed her eyes.

Immediately.

Like someone bracing for impact, Elena noticed. But didn't understand why.

"Actually..." she began.

Rowan groaned.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"That's your investigation voice."

"I don't have an investigation voice."

"You absolutely have an investigation voice."

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. The gesture looked suspiciously familiar. Ronan used to do the same thing. The realization nearly derailed Elena's train of thought.

Almost.

"Anyway," she continued, "I've been looking into some things."

Rowan immediately pointed at Evelyn.

"See?"

Evelyn sighed.

"See."

Elena ignored them both.

"I went back to the woods."

The room became noticeably quieter.

Subtle. But noticeable.

Rowan's smile faded slightly. Evelyn's posture stiffened. A strange sensation crept across Elena's skin. Something wasn't right.

"What woods?" Rowan asked carefully.

"The clearing."

Silence.

Not long. Just long enough. Then Rowan picked up her water glass. A little too quickly. A little too forcefully. The glass shattered in her hand. The sound exploded through the room. Everyone froze. Water splashed across the table. Tiny shards scattered everywhere.

For one stunned moment, nobody moved. Rowan stared at her hand.

Uninjured. Completely uninjured.

The glass... crushed like paper. Elena blinked.

"What the hell?"

Rowan looked horrified. Not by the broken glass. By Elena noticing it. Evelyn recovered first.

"Rowan."

The warning in her voice was immediate.

Sharp. Meaningful.

The kind of warning that carried far more weight than the word itself. Rowan stood abruptly.

"I'll clean this up."

Then she practically fled the room. Elena stared after her. Confusion growing.

"What was that?"

Evelyn's smile appeared instantly.

Too instantly.

The kind of smile people wore when they were desperately trying to look normal.

"Rowan has always been clumsy."

Elena looked at the shattered remains of the glass. Then toward the doorway. Then back to Evelyn.

"Clumsy?"

The older woman nodded. Completely serious.

"Very clumsy."

Elena wasn't convinced. Not remotely.

Dinner resumed eventually—or at least a version of it. The atmosphere had changed.

Subtly. But undeniably.

The conversation wandered toward safer topics. No more woods. No more investigations. No more mysteries. Yet Elena kept noticing things. The glances Evelyn and Rowan exchanged. The tension that appeared whenever the forest was mentioned. The way both women seemed oddly relieved when she changed the subject. It made no sense.

None at all.

And yet—the feeling lingered. The same feeling she'd had since finding the tracks. The same feeling she'd experienced in the clearing. The same feeling she'd gotten from Darius. People were hiding something. Not necessarily the same thing. But something.

When dinner finally ended, Evelyn walked her to the door. The night air felt cool against Elena's skin. The moon hung low above the forest. Almost full again. Almost watching. Evelyn followed her gaze. Toward the trees. Toward the darkness. Toward the woods. A shadow crossed the older woman's expression. Gone almost instantly.

"Be careful out there."

The words sounded casual. But they weren't. Elena knew they weren't.

"What are you afraid of?"

Evelyn looked at her. For a long moment. Long enough that Elena thought she might actually answer. Instead, she smiled.

Sad. Beautiful. Heartbreakingly familiar.

Then she reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind Elena's ear. The gesture felt oddly maternal.

Protective. Painful.

"More than you know."

Before Elena could ask another question, Evelyn stepped back. The door closed softly. Leaving Elena alone on the porch, staring at the woods, staring at the moon, and wondering why every answer seemed hidden somewhere among the trees.

Far beyond the estate, concealed within the darkness of the forest, silver eyes watched the house. Watched the lights. Watched the woman descending the steps. Watched the mate he could never quite stay away from. And for the first time in a very long while, Ronan began to fear that the secrets protecting Elena were beginning to unravel.