My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

While August remained nestled in Graeme's chest, he craned his head back to kiss the top of her head. "How are you so calm now? I-I was going to tell you…" he trailed off, unable to bring himself to paint the past in words for her. He felt her shrug in his arms.

"It's hard to explain. It's just out now," she said quietly. "I don't want to talk about it tonight, if that's okay." Honestly, she was just exhausted after all of it.

"You know I've never felt this way before, August. She wasn't my mate. You are. Please understand that," he said, gripping her tighter. "This is entirely different."

August sighed, more drained by his words. He was talking about it when she had asked him not to. And while what he said was true, it didn't erase the tragedy of Violet's feelings. Violet was broken. August let go of Graeme and hopped down before she could dwell more on the empathy hangover now hovering in her mind.

"Let's go back," she said quietly.

"Wait," he pulled her back to him. "Please wait." His eyes looked desperate, pleading with her as she met his gaze.

"What is it?" she asked when he didn't say anything. She watched him run a hand through his dark hair. When he still didn't respond, an unease bloomed in her abdomen, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was hers or his that she was feeling.

"I don't know what you saw, but I have a good idea. And I felt… how it made you feel. I just want you to know… I've made mistakes," he choked out, glancing away from her as the glimmer of tears sprung to his eyes. "Lots of them. I know I have. I'm not proud of it. There are so many people I wish to make things right with. The whole pack, really," he confessed. "But I need.. I need to do right by you. Have I already screwed that up?"

"No," her shoulders sagged with the answer. "No, of course not. We have pasts. Both of us." Graeme drew her against him, tucking her under his chin as he stared apologetically out into the darkness. "I'm alive because of you, Graeme," she reminded him.

The trees started to sway as a strong wind blew in, bringing with it excited voices from the clearing. Graeme lifted her up for her legs to wrap around him, and she took the turn to dry his tears this time. Her eyes smiled as she did, revealing the kind wrinkles at their corners that he could imagine becoming more prominent with time.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his own eyes sweeping over her, drinking in the way the moonlight seemed to fancy her pale skin and hair, making them appear silver. It was as if she was part of the moon itself.

"You carry me at every opportunity. I don't have a chance to be cold," she teased quietly. But she didn't hate it. There was comfort being in his arms like this.

He continued to study her affectionately. "There's no way you're human," he whispered to himself.

August looked startled. "Why? What do you mean?"

"I've never met a human like you," he said. "I couldn't have dreamed you up if I tried."

"Well, I am the only me," she rolled her eyes. "Also, I was told that I'm technically a mutate. I guess there's that small fact."

Graeme chuckled. "Then perhaps enchanting me is your superpower." He bent to tug on her bottom lip with his sharp teeth. "Hmmm… you don't taste genetically engineered."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Don't I? Maybe it's the puke throwing you off."

"No, just alcohol," he teased. "It disinfected everything on its way back out."

She screwed up her face. "Gross."

"Here, Greta gave me water," he handed her the bottle from his jacket.

"It's not spiked with moonshine too is it?" she asked.

"You never know. It is the full moon," he smirked. "No silly, she brought it for you."

'Did he just call me silly?' August pretended to eye him suspiciously as she took the bottle, swishing it around her mouth and spitting it out a few times before drinking the rest and wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. "Ah! Good as new," she said with a grin.

"I'll be the judge of that," he countered, dipping back in to capture her mouth with a smile on his lips.

He kissed her gently, caressing her soft lips with his own, before it triggered something deeper—a frenzied release of the emotions they had just endured, and he pressed further with his tongue, sliding desperately against hers and entangling with her there where he could coax out her whimpers.

He was tasting her—Goddess, he was tasting her—and the forest and the bonfire and all else slid effortlessly away. He made her reassurances and promises with his mouth, playing at what he wanted to promise her with his body as he stumbled blindly to the nearest tree.

Finally, he found one that gave him more leverage to press against her and create that friction between them that ignited a different kind of fire—one that they would happily sacrifice themselves to.

Graeme heard his mate's sweet whimpers as he kissed below her ear, trailing his heat down her neck where his mark was that he nipped gently, causing her to squirm against him. He slowly licked the mark again and again, retracing the warmth of his mouth that contrasted with the cool of the night air. The tender revisiting of his tongue on that spot was his way of reminding her that it was there and it was his—this irreversible, intimate connection that he would create again and again without a thought.

"Graeme," she squeaked as his tongue was slowly driving her mad.

"Yep, you're as good as new," he groaned against her neck, nipping her again as she wiggled against him.

"Wait," she whispered, and he drew back just far enough to gaze at her with those heated dark eyes she could get lost in. "Won't someone see us?"

"No, love. Besides, I'd gouge their damn eyes out if they did," he growled softly before returning his tongue to her skin.

'That's not exactly reassuring,' she thought, groaning as she bent her head back to give him better access.. But Graeme's magnetism was already coaxing her into the spiral of need that only he could fulfill, and he was intent on fulfilling it.