My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

When Graeme arrived at the tree house a half hour later, he couldn't find August anywhere. He called her name before looking around the privacy screen into the bathroom. The place wasn't exactly big, so there weren't many places she could be.

He closed his eyes and focused on her scent, following it out onto the deck. She wasn't there either. Finally, he stood on one of the railings and peeked over the edge of the roof. She was lying there on her back, staring at the tree above her. Graeme let out an audible sigh of relief.

"What are you doing up here?" He asked, the sharpness of irritation in his voice.

"Just enjoying the tree," she said plainly.

"Can't you enjoy it from the deck?"

She sighed without looking at him. "It's not the same."

He climbed up and sat next to her, staring down at the enchanting dim gold of her irises while she continued gazing at the leaves above her. Graeme caught another scent on her and leaned down over her neck, sniffing.

"What are you doing?" she asked. She couldn't recall anyone ever sniffing her before.

"Who touched you?" his eyes narrowed.

She sighed again. "You left. Does it really matter?"

"I left you with Greta. Who the fuck touched you?" The anger resurfaced.

August shot up, supporting herself with one arm on the roof behind her. "Look, I've been thinking. You should just point me in the direction of Eliade. Whatever happens happens. This isn't my world. I feel like the council confirmed that, and I don't want anyone getting hurt," she said looking at the forest in front of her rather than at Graeme.

"You would be as good as dead, August," Graeme said.

"I can deal with it," she snapped back, looking down into her free hand holding a red leaf that had fallen near her.

"What happened?" he asked more softly. "Will you look at me?" He went to touch her chin, but she flinched away from him before he could reach her. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but she didn't see it. "It happened again, didn't it? Someone touched you and you saw their thoughts."

August laughed lightly, "It doesn't matter."

His jaw clenched. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said quietly. "I didn't want you to see me like that. I just—I had to think."

"It's not your fault. None of this is your fault, Graeme," she finally met his eyes. "Me being here has ruined like everything for you," she stared at him, unwavering. She had been thinking, too. It was easier to think when he wasn't there making her head fuzzy.

"No, that's not true," he shook his head.

"I can see it. Do you think I'm blind? You didn't want a mate, and it's possible that this insanely powerful feeling," she said, pointing between the two of them, "is some kind of trick to use me against you, which honestly wouldn't be surprising considering the circumstances. Please just go live the life you planned in the first place. I'll be fine."

Graeme winced internally, feeling the words cut him like a blade. "August, I know how all of this must look, but I didn't—I didn't have a life. I didn't know what I wanted. I was lost," he tried to explain. "And you won't be fine if I let you go."

She didn't seem to be listening. Instead, she was shaking her head and looking back into the tree. "You should have just left me there," she whispered.

Graeme grabbed her arm, "How can you say that?" Was she going to give in to uncertainty every time it threatened her?

August started trembling and squeezed her eyes closed, pulling away from him and scrambling to her feat. "Don't," she said, backing further away now. He looked at her in surprise and then down at his empty hands. She was afraid of him? His mate was afraid of him?

Just then, August lost her footing and stumbled backwards toward the edge of the roof, sending leaves flying free to drop the 70 feet to the ground below. Graeme sprang forward and caught her in time before she could follow them, cursing under his breath in the process. He scooped her up in his arms and jumped to the deck below.

"Goddess, what were you thinking going up there? What if I hadn't been here to catch you?" he scolded into her hair without letting her go.

She struggled against him, trying to free herself. "I wouldn't have--I wouldn't have almost fallen if not for you," she started, but then she was raked with those trembles cascading down her body again. "Let me go," she sobbed. "I don't want to see anything. Please, not you Graeme."

His heart clenched feeling her trembling body again and hearing how broken she sounded. "I don't have anything to hide from you, August," he whispered while still cradling her in his arms. "I will never hurt you. All of my thoughts are yours."

August squeezed her eyes tighter and gripped Graeme's sweater in her hands, burying her head there to brace against what was coming. She saw a small river in the forest come into view behind her eyes. Water rushed over boulders in front of her feet—Graeme's feet. He was there alone. Sunlight reflected off the water's surface in patches while leaves fell around him.

The vision switched to Graeme and Greta as kids playing with rocks in the same spot, throwing them in, jumping over boulders, splashing in the water, catching fish. Greta's hair was dark brown unlike the peach hair August was familiar with, but she had the same warm brown eyes as her brother that sparkled with the joy and mischief of childhood.

A man's voice called to them, and then they were in the pack house, surrounded by mourning faces and a staccato of soft sobs. The Alpha and Luna were dead. His father and mother. He couldn't comprehend it. How could this have happened? How could reality have shifted so completely in an instant? August felt the shock of the news stun Graeme. He couldn't feel the truth of it. It wasn't registering.

A woman with kind eyes and long dark hair embraced him and his sister. 'Oh my loves, I am so sorry,' her words floated over them. Maggie was her name--a name so familiar and so comforting to him. Her presence was soothing, and Graeme and Greta finally felt it all—finally cried in her arms as the gravity of their parents' deaths hit them fully. She made them feel safe enough to grieve.

When she held them, Graeme shattered. The loss of his parents weighed more than anything he had ever felt. His parents had just been there. His mother's gentle smile and uninhibited laughter. His father's strength and guidance--always showing Graeme how to be a leader. Always showing him how to be who their people would need.

A guilt so dark and heavy threaded through these coupled memories—of the woman, Maggie, who made him and his sister feel safe and loved in the time when they most needed it and of his parent's memory and legacy--a legacy he hadn't taken up.

And then Maggie was screaming as flames engulfed her.

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