My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Chapter 15: Mutants And Irony


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In no time, August found herself seated at a little table overlooking the forest with heaps of food on the plate in front of her and a grass chandelier hanging above that had caught her interest. The long and pale wispy grasses hung elegantly around its circumference while a bulb illuminated them from the center, creating a warm, inviting glow.

It had literally been weeks since August ate, and now she felt the hunger gnawing angrily at her.

Graeme didn't recall ever feeling actual pleasure watching someone else eat before, but now he smiled watching August chewing her meal happily across from him. It satisfied something in him that needed her safe and cared for. It was instinctual. For the first time in a long time, he realized that he felt at ease. And this was just from watching the girl eat!

After Greta was satisfied that August was okay and was staying that way—at least for the time being—she left to give them some time alone.

"I'll be back early to bring some things for you, August. But please, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call," she smiled and hugged her. Then she pinched her brother's cheek playfully and disappeared out the door. He laughed lightly as she left.

"Your sister is amazing," August said once Greta had gone. "You two seem really close."

Graeme smiled warmly, "She's a good egg."

"Oh, is that a twin joke? Does that mean you're the bad egg?" August smiled at him teasingly before catching herself. Would that offend him?

But Graeme nodded in agreement, "Some would definitely say that." August caught a flash of sadness in his expression, but his eyes were light. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Hmm… you probably know more than I do considering I didn't realize I was enrolled in some insane secret experiment," she laughed nervously. "But… let's see. My favorite color is green."

"Okay, favorite color is important," he chuckled.

"My middle name is 'Moon,'" she realized aloud. "How is that for irony?"

"I noticed that, August Moon Cady. But I think that's technically coincidence, not irony," Graeme replied, winking at her.

"Oh, so you're a smarty pants. Are you sure about that?"

"Pretty sure," he squinted back at her. He had a dimple on his left cheek, she noticed. It appeared above the bristly hairs of his beard, softening his features.

"Okay then, let me ask you something," she paused, "Am I turning into a werewolf?" Her stomach churned at the possibility, and Graeme could sense how she tensed waiting for his answer.

His smile wilted a little as he seemed to think seriously about it, staring hard into the space next to her. "It would be lycan, not werewolf. But I don't know," he confessed.

"What's the difference?" she tilted her head.

"Werewolves are ugly and gross and bite people to make them ugly and gross like them," he replied.

"Wow. That really clears it up," she laughed. He gave her a crooked smile. "So you're not ugly and gross?"

"What do you think?" Graeme raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt her face grow warm.

"So you turn into a cuddly, adorable wolf then?"

"Adorable?" he scoffed. "More like fearsome and majestic."

"This I have to see," she said, eyes lighting with curiosity.

"You saw me in the forest, didn't you?" He tilted his head, and her smile fell remembering that night.

"No, not really," she said quietly. "It was so dark."

"I'm sorry, August," he replied. "I… You have no idea how surprised I was to find you there. I wasn't thinking straight, and I panicked…" He gulped, reliving it too. Her scent and her fear. The pain that she was in and the fall… "I should have done things differently."

"No, no. I'm glad you were there," she said, staring at her wrist again. And then she laughed. "It's crazy. I had a werewolf… I mean, a lycan… rescue me. Anything short of that, and I'd be either dead or in a lab right now."

Graeme swallowed. It was true, and it was terrifying.

"I mean it," she said and met his eyes again. "Thank you."

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"Of course," he replied, his voice deep as his eyes grew deeper.

August's cheeks started to pink again. "Um, are the sparkly eyes a thing in lycans? You don't appear to have them."

"Sparkly eyes are not a thing, no." August frowned at the response. "I'm not sure what to make of yours, honestly," he said.

"Does your sister have any ideas?"

"Oh, that's one thing you can be sure of. Greta has lots of theories," he laughed, "about everything."

"What are they?" She asked curiously, eager for information about her new predicament.

"I should let her tell you that. I wouldn't want to try summarizing the depth and complexity that go into her circuitous logic," he laughed. "I can tell you though that that is something the council will be very curious about tomorrow."

The smile Graeme had teased to the surface slowly wilted from August's expression, and she started fidgeting with her fork. "Wasn't… Marius from the council?"

"Marius is what you might consider the council's attack dog. He is their chief enforcer."

"Is? You mean, I didn't… I didn't…" she stammered, the color slowly draining from her face.

"Kill him?" Graeme frowned. "Unfortunately not. Lycans heal very quickly. And since he was taken away by Lucas while we were tending to you, I didn't get a chance to either," his hands curled into fists on the table. "He's locked up below the council's chambers."

August had a flash of Marius's thoughts from that day, and she pushed herself away from the table slightly, gripping its edge. She was relieved she hadn't killed him, but it terrified her as well. Would she have to face him again?

As if reading her thoughts, Graeme said, "He'll never touch you again." His voice was low, slicing through the air between them as if seeking Marius's throat.

"He's the monster," August whispered. "I saw his… his thoughts, I guess. His desires," her eyes stung with tears as she looked down at her lap. She hated that the memory could make her cry. No one should ever let that man or wolf or whatever he was touch anyone. Who knows what he had done in the past. She had gotten quick glimpses before his thoughts had centered back on her. She squeezed her eyes shut to drive the memory away.

Graeme's knuckles were white on the table seeing how speaking of Marius affected her. He was still furious at himself for allowing her to be in that position, and he hadn't been able to take out his anger on Marius. Yet. He let his fists loosen, not wanting August to see him consumed by anger.

"You saw something from me as well," he said. It was a statement, but August could hear the searching in it.

Her face relaxed and she smiled a little. "Yes." She met his eyes but didn't elaborate any further. "So that was a result of my mutant genes as well?"

"You're not a mutant," Graeme's eyebrows pinched together.

"I mean, I don't have two heads, but…"

"A mutant is born a certain way. If anything, you're a mutate."

August raised an eyebrow at him. "Who would have thought a wolf who lives in a treehouse would be so knowledgeable about mutants and irony," she said, amused.

"And who would have thought a worldly college girl wouldn't be," he teased. They stared at each other for another moment, eyes twinkling appreciatively.

"I'm an art major," she said finally. "Photography." She sipped her tea, maintaining eye contact with him from across the table.

"Oh, that explains the camera," he said.

"The camera?" August repeated. "My camera?" The realization of what he was saying hit her, and she stared at him eagerly.

Graeme got up from the table before returning back with the camera she had been wearing that day she wandered into suicide forest. August picked it up, looking it over and turning it on to see that it was completely fine. Even the lens was unharmed. Older equipment like this was practically indestructible, and she laughed in surprise.

"I can't believe it survived that night. Thank you," she said softly for Graeme to smile in response. "Seriously though, aren't you supposed to be more braun-y than brainy? When do I get to see you running through the forest with, like, steam rising off of your chiseled torso?" she laughed.

"We don't need to run through the forest for that," Graeme raised an eyebrow, and August's face grew pink again.

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