My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

An hour later, they were descending the steps once again under the massive tree, curling down its wide wooden steps.

August could feel the change in the air that happened around this time of year. It reminded her of Halloween. The smell of damp leaves had been lingering for awhile, but now its layers were thick and there was a hint of frigid weather to come.

"I asked Greta if we could use the Jeep, but she has something going on," Graeme mumbled. "My old car is at my parent's house. Would you mind using that until we get one of our own?"

"Of course. Why would I mind?" August asked.

"Well, you haven't seen it yet. It may not be up to your standards," he said.

"My standards? What—do I seem superficial to you?" August stopped, eyeing him.

"No, that's not what I meant," he chuckled. "I just want you to be comfortable."

She crossed her arms, looking down at him as he had continued a few steps before pausing to turn to her.

"Look, I'm not some materialistic… bitch or whatever. I resent money and the obsession with possessions and what it does to people. I never had much as a kid before Alan came into our lives, and we were happier without all of his goddamn money. I can assure you that whatever car you used to drive around here is just fine."

Wow, he hit a nerve all right. "I meant no offense in any way," he said earnestly, though he couldn't help how his mouth curved slightly in amusement at the unexpected outburst.

"It's harder to get cars here than it would be somewhere else. There are typically only a handful to pick from. And I don't want you getting stranded somewhere in the snow," he explained. "Unless I'm with you, of course," and the glint of mischief was back in his eyes.

"What are you smiling at?" she narrowed her eyes at the hand he had extended in front of her.

"At this fiery passion of yours," his eyes twinkled. "It's adorable."

She rolled her eyes and passed him on the steps, finally alighting on the ground below. Did he take her seriously at all? "Who lives at your parents' house now?" she asked as they walked.

"No one. It's empty," he said.

"Oh."

They followed the road that had led them toward the pack house, passing the spot where they had diverted off into the woods toward Mama May's.

"Are you tired? It would be faster if I carried you," Graeme suggested.

August watched him quietly. "I'm not tired."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're mad at me now for some reason?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm fine," came her clipped answer.

Quaint forest homes that looked like hobbit or fairy houses came into view, and August's steps slowed as she became lost in studying them. They were dripping with eccentricities—wind chimes, lawn ornaments, mosaic tiled walls, stepping stones with intricate designs, upside-down blue bottles that Graeme had said were for catching 'night fairies.'

There were delicate looking fences made with chicken wire, odd shaped wooden planks, large sticks woven in chain link. Everything looked handmade and thoughtfully chosen and loved.

Graeme answered a call as they were walking, but August was too lost in their surroundings to take note of the conversation until he turned to her.

"Hey, Sam and Jack are training the younger kids today. Would you like to swing by? Amelia will be there. She acts as the organizer, I guess."

"Sure," August replied with a tight smile.

Graeme stopped. "Okay, seriously. What's wrong?"

August shrugged again. "I'm f-"

"Don't say you're fine," he interrupted.

August looked down at her feet, arms curled around herself. She let out a heavy sigh.

"It was stupid, but I guess with everything else going on… I hadn't thought about a b-baby," she said quietly. "We can't let that happen," she continued staring at her feet.

"How could you…" she started, lifting her eyes accusingly, "how could you want that right now? How could you encourage it? And not tell me?"

Graeme stared at her without any words for it as the quiet fury of her accusing eyes pierced him. "You're my mate, August…"

"Who you've known for a month!" she interrupted.

He let the burn of those words sink into him before answering quietly. "I guess it's different for lycans… the time we've known each other doesn't matter. It's for life…"

August buried her face in her hands. "That might be," she said, "But look at our situation! How can we protect… Someone else? When we don't even know how to protect ourselves right now or—or who we're needing protection from?"

"You think I can't protect you?" The hair at Graeme's neck bristled.

"That's not what I'm saying," she groaned. "We just don't even know the extent of what we're facing right now. And… I don't want to rush into something like that. Can't you understand that?"

"You saw that last night though, right? You felt it?" he challenged, taking a step toward her.

"Yes, of course," she said.

"And you said you feel the Goddess around you? In us?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"So do you trust it? Or don't you? Because that belief for us is everything. I believe, were it to happen, it would be for a reason that you or I may not understand—but a reason nonetheless. We're mates," he stressed again. "Do you know how sacred that is? How—how important? It's not like humans, August. It's not just some random person we decide to take a chance on."

"You mean like Violet?" she snapped.

Graeme froze before his head and shoulders gradually sagged, and August swallowed back the regret of bringing it up. She didn't want to hurt him, and she definitely didn't want to think about that encounter with Violet again.

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean. Her and I were a mistake. We're not."

August sighed, feeling the sorrow crest in him. "I'm sorry."

"No, I deserve that," he replied. His dark, puppy-dog eyes slid up guiltily to find hers.

"So… with mates," she started again. "You just… give over completely? To this trust in… in something beyond your control? With no thought as to your own responsibility in those actions?" Her hands fluttered toward the sky as if she were letting a bird go on the wind.

How could it be so simple for him? Did he trust this Moon Goddess that completely?

"Yes," he said low and deep, crossing the distance between them. "Because the trust starts here in us," and he gestured between them. "I never expected you. I never expected this," his breath was fanning across her face, his scent and his strength and his warmth surrounding her with that delicious comfort of his again, and she felt the surge of her anger ease and sweep back out into the sea of trees.

"My responsibility is here," he reached up to run his fingers through a wild lock of her hair, "and my actions? When that magic blooms between us, around us? When I find more of myself by losing myself in you? I will always trust what comes from that union, my love."

August breathed in deeply and let it go.

***

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