My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Graeme barreled down the hallway, gripping August's waist as he approached and pulling her protectively against him.

Lucas' eyes grew wider at Graeme's advancement, but he didn't back away. He didn't change his position. He didn't lower his eyes. He was still fixated on her, and with that realization, she nestled herself further into Graeme's warmth. The warmth she had missed so much. But why and how was he here?

"Don't fucking look at her," Graeme spit, and August glanced up at him in confusion before he tucked her behind his back—safe from Lucas' eyes.

What was happening? Both of these males were acting strange.

Lucas tore his eyes away from the couple in front of him with much effort—the Alpha and his rightful Luna. He found himself smiling at the ground like a fool.

A further warning growl puttered in Graeme's throat as he stared Lucas down. Then he turned and gripped August possessively by the waist again as he led them out, leaving the dungeon and its darkness behind them.

Graeme didn't speak as they were climbing through the dark throat of the dungeon that led out to the forest, but August could feel his heart hammering in his chest like they had narrowly escaped something grave. She was in trouble. She could feel it. He was angry.

And then finally August saw green and felt the fresh forest air. The green of growing things. The green of home.

"Why was Lucas looking at me like that?" she asked, but Graeme cut her off, whirling her around to face him.

"Why were you down there? What were you thinking?" he scolded, his eyes angry and worried.

"I was… I followed this—what does it matter?" she tugged herself away, glaring up at him. Why was he suddenly so concerned and angry with her?

"It matters because you are precious, August. Don't you understand that?" he growled, reprimanding her with his eyes.

"So precious that I get to sit at home and do nothing… learn nothing about what is happening with you? You have shut me out!" she cried, backing away from him.

His face was stoic, unchanging… but his eyes. His eyes crumpled at her words. She saw it, the truth that injured him.

"Why have you let me?" he asked more softly now. This was a true question he was asking from the depths of him. He didn't understand why she had not fought him on it.

"You needed time. This is your pack, and I…"

"This is our pack," he interrupted, and closed the distance between them, his expression softer now. "You know that. You feel it as I do."

"But I reacted poorly after you killed Auden, and now you are punishing me," she said, her eyes darting to her feet and the soft green beneath it. "You are hiding things from me."

He sighed and pressed his lips together. "Is there anything you are hiding from me, Moon?" he asked gently, reaching to tug her closer to him and his warmth that was so comforting… so tempting, it called to her to give in and relinquish all of her defenses.

She searched herself. Was she hiding something? His question did not sound like a question. It sounded like he knew the answer to it but was searching for her admission.

He dropped to his knees and pulled her against him, peering up, seeking her eyes that were so stubborn that they were admiring the ground instead of him. She allowed herself to be drawn against him, and she grudgingly met his gaze. There was more gold there today amidst the blue, and his eyebrows threaded together with the realization. When was the last time he had searched her eyes like this? Had the gold been there long?

"Are you okay, darling?" he asked, genuine this time—seeking her truth.

"I think so," she breathed, lost in him for good now. He was back, he had returned to her.

"Did you know? Were you hiding it from me?" his grip tightened on her waist, and he leaned forward to kiss her stomach. She gasped softly, drawing his eyes back to her. "You did know."

She shook her head, eyes wide in disbelief as she grasped his broad shoulders. "No, I didn't know… for sure. Are you saying…?"

"You thought it was possible and didn't discuss it with me?" His face crumpled. How could he have shut her out to this extent that she wouldn't discuss it with him? She must have felt so alone.

"I was scared," she admitted, her voice wavering. "I… am scared. And you are so busy. And I didn't know for sure. I didn't want to worry you or get your hopes up. So I'm… truly pregnant?" her shoulders sagged as she said it. So much truth today. How could she tell him about his parents after this? Would those two memories be coupled forever in his mind?

"Yes, Moon. You are," he smiled, his voice becoming choked with emotion, and he pulled her further against him.

The surge of his joy crept from her toes all the way to her shoulders, as if it was dressing her in the beauty of its light. This wasn't a feeling she had experienced of his before. It was different—holding different promises. Different hope.

"Please be happy," he said, muffled against her.

"How can I not be happy for something that is created with you?" she muttered honestly, though it was a sweetness accompanying her silent despair. She wasn't prepared for this. Not at all.

He rose to his feet swiftly, grasping the sides of her face in his hands and seeking her mouth—emptying all of his emotion there, warring with her in dominance and possession but also in surrender. This of all things—her carrying his child—stripped him of all of his defenses against her. He was wholly hers. She was carrying all of him. She could command him at will, and he would obey.

August's arms rose to embrace him, finding their home behind his neck as he bowed over her, seeking to commit himself all over again. Making promises with his tender, persistent mouth that begged and devoured in succession. That possessive growl she adored rumbled in his chest, making its way up the column of his thick neck and passing its vibrations into her mouth where she accepted them, allowing them to stir her own passion that had lain dormant, tucked safely away until the time that he returned to her.

******

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