My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Once Gunnar had sucked in a breath at the surprise of being spared from Graeme's wrath, he chanced a glance at the Alpha male who still stood in all the power that he had arrived with. He was met with a disapproving scowl that made his heart stutter. It was like when he would get into serious trouble with his father as a pup, only this was much much worse.

"Th-thank you," Gunnar bowed his head low again and turned to leave without attempting another look at the female who was shielded from his vision by Graeme's body.

Once Graeme was satisfied that they were alone, he finally turned to face August who was getting to her feet. She brushed herself off and raised her eyes to meet his as he turned.

It was like seeing her for the first time all over again. She was covered in the scents of the forest rather than the concentrated scent that he knew so well. The rain had covered every part of her, causing the long pale shirt she wore to cling against her body. She looked smaller than he remembered. And more beautiful.

August's eyes flamed a bright gold as he finally faced her and approached.

"Graeme," she breathed, allowing the joy and relief of his presence to swell inside of her. Despite everything that had happened, he was here and somehow, again, everything felt like it aligned.

The warmth of his presence embraced her before he did, and she saw that golden dust of their pulsating energy dance around them like little sprites celebrating their union. And then he was touching her face, studying the flush of her cheek where the male had hit her and running his hands gently through the hair that Gunnar had pulled.

Every place he touched ignited a small fire that burned and rushed to her chest—a small firework lighting up the darkness where his absence was. And now he was populating it again.

"What happened to you?" her eyes fell to his chest. There was no visible wound, but she felt the memory of a pain there.

When her fingers alighted on the skin over that spot, he sucked in a breath as trembles raked him at her touch. Only she had the power to make him tremble with just the lightest touch like that.

"I was… shot," he breathed.

"What?!" her eyes returned to his face and searched his eyes. "With a—with a gun? How could that happen? Are you okay?" she turned flustered and her hands fluttered over him, reassuring herself that he was in one piece.

"And you were attacked by a bear?" he asked, incredulous, cupping her face in his hands and tilting her to him.

"I'm fine," she said quickly.

"So am I," he replied with that deep reassurance that spread through her, coating her from the inside out.

August closed her eyes and nodded, letting it work. Letting his presence calm her.

He gently brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, appreciating ever little detail that he had missed. Every delicate curve of her face and lips. Every little mole and light blonde hair. And she kept her eyes closed, letting him rediscover her—letting him trace the boundaries that her skin created before he found the gates that would push beyond those boundaries.

A loud exhale had his breath warming her face. He dipped his head to find her lips with his, requesting permission to enter. The gentle nip and tug of her bottom lip that had her scent spike higher and curl around him in acceptance.

And then he kissed her deeply, and the exterior world fell away. The boundaries fell away. What was left was that bright, welcoming interior warmth where they united.

He was kissing her. Goddess, she was here with him, in his arms, and he was kissing her again. A small sob escaped him as he realized the deep fear he had been harboring on that long drive that something would happen and he wouldn't have this opportunity again. When he arrived at Greta and Sam's and she wasn't there, that fear had only escalated.

And then he was sprinting desperately through the forest, feeling the fluctuations of her panic and fear and bravery like spears to his chest.

Greta was missing. Sam was missing. He couldn't track his mate, but he followed that pull in his chest, like his magnetic north, that led him straight to her. And straight to a circle of males with her at the center.

His sob turned into the soft putter of his possessive growl, and he kissed her more desperately as they entered a space together that was weightless—that exceeded time. All that existed was her. Her under his touch. Her threaded within his own being. Her that lit behind his eyes. Her tongue dancing with his, her mouth, her heat, her scent, the draw that pulled him further and further into her until he was lost to all else.

"I missed you," she broke the kiss and whimpered against him, using her hands to grasp at his arms and then his back, pulling him closer.

"Goddess, I missed you, too," he replied, his forehead resting on hers. "I wasn't here when you needed me. Again," he groaned regretfully.

"Yes, you were," she argued. "You were. Your mark… your healing. You were here with me when I needed you, because you are within me."

"And you are within me," he smiled and kissed her again, recalling how he had dreamt that she healed him, and then when he awoke, it had come to be. "Your lips are absolutely the best thing I've ever tasted," he breathed and threaded his fingers through hers.

"As are yours," she growled and kissed him again for him to chuckle.

"Are you cold? You are drenched, Little Red. I know we got you a coat," Graeme's smile fell to a look of concern as he ran his hands over her arms. She felt cold, and her lips were slightly purple.

"I could never be cold when you're near. I am fine," she leaned into him and let him embrace her, tucking her under his chin.

"I need to get you home. Get you dry," he thought aloud. "And then I have to go get my sister and Sam."

"No, we are doing that first," she replied, "and I am coming with."

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