My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

"That's not fair," Graeme's deep voice puttered in his throat. "Come here, let me get a taste of your cheeks."

August laughed softly and backed away against the passenger door.

"Nope, you have to concentrate on the road."

It was always so easy with him—even when the disbelief and sorrow about this ridiculous enchantment of Penelope's was like a low-hanging dark cloud—she was still drawn to the joy that burned inside when he was with her. Her twin flame. Her mate. The one other being in this world who was threaded through and enfolded within her own self. The hope that he brought just with the reassurance of his presence alone was enough to make the future more possible.

"I think I can do both—nibble on you and steer. Let's try it," his hand found her in the darkness and tugged her closer, but she wiggled to free herself, letting giggles slip loose in the process.

"Don't crash your sister's car! She'll never forgive us," August laughed, pushing him away and gluing herself to the door.

"You started it, Little Red, and now all I can think about is whether or not I've felt that part of you between my teeth," he replied in that deep, gruff voice that sent electric bolts of desire down into her core. But she laughed and continued to wiggle free of his relentless fingers that had decided instead that tickling her was their next mission.

"Graeme! Stop tickling! I didn't even call you Bun-Bun," she squirmed and continued giggling. He was definitely going to crash into a large tree trunk in these dark woods if he kept it up.

"That's it," he growled playfully. Mock outrage flared in his eyes that she recognized even in the dark, and she sucked in a breath as he hit the brakes and took back his hand long enough to put the Jeep in park.

"What are you doing?!" she protested, eyes wide as she watched his upper half lunge somehow unimpeded by the center counsel, fingers merciless as they sought all of her sensitive spots. She squirmed, shrieking and giggling, unable to contain it, because somehow he knew just the right spots to poke and tickle.

"I'm tasting what's mine," he growled low, and his hands stilled to hold her as he bent low where she was slouched back, panting against the door watching him with equal measures of surprise and thrill.

He bit the fleshy part of her cheek and tugged gently, a purr of approval rumbling in his chest. A small gasp left her with the sting of it, and he let go only to do it again lower, creating small flushed patches where his teeth had tested her before letting go. When he got to her neck, nipping at the thin skin there before licking it, August pulled away to do the same—sinking her teeth into that thick, corded part of him that didn't give way easily. Why did his flesh smell so good? Why was it so tantalizing to bite into him like this and feel that warmth and pulse of him in her mouth?

"Graeme," she breathed against him before nuzzling in his scent and warmth. One of his hands was bracing against the seat, the other tangling in her hair, angling her exposed neck that he was drawing into his mouth with small, gruff noises that had her clawing at him, drawing him in closer.

"You smell different," he mumbled against her, and she ducked her head, blocking his access to her neck.

"What do you mean?" she asked, surprised.

He chuckled at her sudden reaction, pulling back to look into her eyes. The smallest bit of worry seemed to well there.

"It's not a bad thing," he reassured her, nipping her cheek again.

"But why would my scent be different?" she pushed gently against him, and he ran a thumb over the wet part he had left on her cheek before retreating back to his side of the car.

"Scents vary a little bit. It's normal, Moon. It can be affected by food or physical activity or other things going on in the body," he shrugged. "You were around some different people today. Maybe that's why. But it's still yours—the best scent of all." He sighed happily at the truth of it. It was the best scent. Like home.

"Oh," she said softly, shifting in her seat to face the front again as he started driving. He kept one hand on hers the whole way as she silently convinced herself that what Selah had told her earlier in the day was only a vague possibility rather than a fact.

The possibility of her being pregnant hadn't actually changed. It was always going to be possible until she had her next period. Her knowledge about that possibility hadn't changed—they both knew that already. She wasn't deceiving her mate in any way by not telling him, because a blooming tree in some strange alternative dimension or reality or whatever the place was where they had journeyed was not definitive in any way, nor was Selah's peculiar knowledge about it.

And early miscarriages happen all the time. In fact, it would probably be cruel if she were to tell Graeme and get his hopes up when it was very likely untrue. It would be too early for even a proper pregnancy test at this point, so they wouldn't even be able to verify it. Yes, it was definitely better to just keep it to herself for now.

They needed to focus on dealing with everything else that they were facing right now, which was much, and they would take each new hurdle as it came. This was not a hurdle right now. This was just a silly, very distant possibility. If the Moon Goddess knew what was best for everyone, she definitely would not give her and Graeme a baby. There was just no way.

August nodded to herself in the dark and squeezed Graeme's hand.

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