Chapter 186: Pivotal

The next day, August lay in bed looking up at the ceiling. The males had already gone to the pack house, and Greta had some house calls to do. She was also going to check in on the Bennet family to see if she could get more information about Livvy's disappearance that the family would have given the council at the time.

Graeme was having Charlotte and Sylvia in his office to discuss their level of comfort with becoming official elders within the high ranks of the council before he proposed it to the full council later in the day. As Alpha, his word was the deciding factor. The council members could debate and argue as much as they wanted, but they had no power to go against something he was set on.

The Alpha having the ultimate say in any decision or policy or change that affected the pack was why having guardian elders was so important to their tradition. The elders gave wisdom and insight to help guide an Alpha in his decisions. Clearly, though, the current elders could not be trusted.

August was nervous for him. Today would be the pivotal change for leadership in the pack, and Graeme didn't seem entirely sure how the council would react. He realized that the elders did not want him to take leadership, but it was possible the rest of the council members would be supportive. Today would determine everything.

She squeezed the teddy bear that Graeme had given her the night before—the one he retrieved from her bedroom in Maiden Rock. It was cute that he had thought to bring it. Now Bun-Bun had a friend.

Last night Graeme also hung up the fairy lights that had been strung up on the wall in her old room. Fairy lights. August giggled. Who knew.

Now the fairy lights graced the side wall of his parents' bedroom that was opposite the master bathroom. She told him he didn't have to hang them. They felt pretty juvenile—like something a teenage girl would use to decorate her bedroom, but he insisted. The wall had been empty anyway.

Graeme was about to clip all the old pictures back between the lights like they had been in her room, but she told him she wanted to take new ones—new memories of their life together. That meant that today, before the pups lesson, she would have to retrieve her camera from where it had dropped in the woods when she confronted the fighting couple.

Graeme wasn't aware of her plan to search for her camera. She knew he would only worry, and there were things she had to prove to herself—like the ability to walk through this pack on her own without fear of something happening. If she were really Luna and really a powerful fae, then she should be able to do at least that much. If she were meant to help him lead, then she couldn't stay locked up and under watch forever.

She put her teddy next to Bun-Bun on the bed so she could get ready. After dressing, she picked up the one photo she had kept out from the stash Graeme had brought with him—a black and white photo of her mom smiling at the camera.

Her mom was standing next to their car in the drive way. They had just gotten back from grocery shopping or something. Usually August tried to get candid shots, but this time she told her mom to smile. It was the perfect photo, capturing even in black and white the vivid light eyes and wild, wavy hair that was caught swirling in the wind.

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What was it about photos? August picked up her smiling mother and walked her over to the wall, clipping her between two of the fairy lights on the string—the only photo representing her previous life. She backed away, watching her mother's smiling face grow smaller as she did.

This was a day that was memorialized forever—a moment with her mother that had been frozen in time. And it seemed to capture something of her spirit. Not all photos did that. August supposed that was what she was after when she took pictures. Somehow capturing the essence or spirit or aura or energy of a person before it could take flight into the next moment.

Something of her mother lived in this photograph. Was it the light in her eyes? The genuine smile that curved on her lips? Was it the composition that brought her mother to life? It was hard to pinpoint. All those disparate elements could be broken down and analyzed, and if they were, the photo became only a collection of pieces. A structure that could be rebuilt to portray anyone's face. But not the spirit within them. Not the essence of who they were. What was it that made this photo more than that?

August stood there wondering these things until the photo in front of her became blurry, tears that had welled up spilling down her cheeks. Her mother was still out there. She would see her again. She would find a way to make this right.

"I love you, mom," she whispered to the photo and turned to leave.

Thankfully the market was close, because it was a chilly day. August had worn layers, preparing well for it. A green heavy weight full-length ruana that Clara and Woody had given her was the final layer, making her feel like a hobbit on a quest.

The walk was peaceful and necessary. The fresh air filled her lungs and scattered all the pent-up worries on the wind. She left the hood of her ruana down, letting her hair fly free and whip around her. And soon she was skipping down the dirt road leading to the market.

When she passed the pack house, she sent a prayer up for Graeme that things would go well today for him. Her mate was so strong and vital to this place. Surely all the council members felt it and would help open the way forward for him to start making things right here.

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