"Look, you did help," she pointed to the disappearing petals.
"I don't see anything," he replied, squinting in the direction she was pointing.
"They said the petals going up like that had something to do with how I was healing," she explained, and when he gave her a confused look, she shrugged. "I don't know," she giggled. "I don't get it either. But they're gone now, which means it's over."
"I need to tell you about my conversation with Penelope," he nodded and began pulling her with him toward the shoreline.
"You were able to talk with her?" August gasped, realizing now that he hadn't had a chance to tell her anything about this yet.
"Oh yeah. I learned a lot," he grunted.
They rose from the water, walking onto the mossy ground together holding hands. When Graeme looked down at his mate's body, he frowned. She was bright red.
"It's just because I have fair skin," she laughed, realizing the cause of the spark of concern in his eyes. "I don't have that beautiful tan skin like you."
"Are you sure?" he glanced back up, and she drew herself into his chest.
"Yes, Bun-Bun," he whispered against him.
"You don't even play now with the one 'Bun.' You just go right in for the kill—crushing all of my masculinity in the process," he smirked and tickled her side for her to wriggle in his arms.
"No one could crush your masculinity," she giggled. "But I definitely don't want you to feel that way. I'm sorry… Graeme."
He hummed appreciatively, hearing his name in that way that seemed to penetrate him on a deeply spiritual level. When he bent to kiss her, he imagined lying her down on the soft moss of the earth here and exploring her with his mouth in all the ways he was unable to in the water. Her skin, which was always so soft anyway, was even more so after the hot spring water, and she was slippery under his fingers as he ran his hands down her sides and then over the curve of her hips.
"Fuck, I'll never get to finish a conversation with you at this rate," he groaned to himself, raising his hands to run up her sides again, and she shivered under his touch.
Her hair clung together in sections that fell longer than usual, as it was wet now, and the front had fallen over her shoulders and clung to her—obscuring her breasts from view. Why were breasts so alluring? And not just any—as a lycan he had seen many—but his mates especially so. The round of them that fit so perfectly in his hands as he gently palmed the underside of them both and ran his thumbs over the pink tips that had turned hard with his touch and the cooler air outside of the spring.
"Graeme," she whispered, covering his hands with her own.
"When you call me like that," he whispered back, tearing his eyes away from her body and alighting on her bright blue eyes, "I will always come for you. Anytime you call me. I will be there or here or anywhere you are. I vow it, August," he said, his brows pinched together in sincerity.
He didn't know how he would fulfill that vow, but it had chosen to speak him rather than the other way around. And it had spoken him in truth. If she called for him, he knew he would be there. Something about this place made it so. Perhaps he was a bit fae after all.
"That must be how you got here, then," she smiled.
"What are we supposed to cover you with?" he dropped his hands to her hips and looked around.
"I suppose you will do," she raised an eyebrow, and he almost choked on the laughter that sounded like chimes from him as well.
"This place has made you quite brazen, Little Red," he smirked.
"It might be the only time we can be alone for awhile," her smile gradually turned sad.
"I don't care if I am at the pack house slammed with Alpha responsibilities from dawn until dusk, I will always find time to be alone with you. It is my most favorite thing," he replied.
"I wonder why that is," she smirked back and then threaded her fingers through his. "Will you have to leave me again? When you are running the pack?"
"When we are running the pack?" he corrected. "I hope not. I will fight to make sure that's not the case. Goddess, I was so worried about you."
"I was worried about you, too. Not being able to reach you on the phone…"
"I know, I have to get to the bottom of that, but since Finn was able to connect with me on the other side of the Grimm, I don't think it would be much of a stretch to imagine the elders are to blame somehow. I wouldn't be surprised if they orchestrated the whole bear attack and the fighting mates either," he frowned. When he got out of this dream world, he was going to rip the council to shreds.
"I don't think that's wise yet," August interrupted his thoughts.
"What?" he asked.
"You are thinking about how to retaliate, right? I don't think it's wise yet," she breathed.
"How can you say that? I haven't told you anything about what I found out, much less what they did locking Greta up and…"
"I understand, I do," she replied. "It's not that they don't deserve it. It's just that… I feel something," she touched a spot over her chest. "Like an instinct that I can't explain. If we retaliate with force now, without feeling out where loyalties lie within the pack and council—without working to gain the trust and admiration of the pack members—I feel like opportunities will be lost and…" her eyes became unfocused and distant as she searched that feeling she was talking about. "And it might just all fall apart."
"What do you mean?" he asked, searching those deep blue eyes of hers that he was still getting used to. "Do you know something?"
"No," she shook her head. "Not exactly. It's like I said… it's a feeling. But it's strong.." She took one of his palms and placed it over the spot on her chest where that feeling felt as if it was lodged deep inside of her. "Can you feel it, too? If you try?"