Chapter 67: Moonwine

A moment later, Greta returned with two mugs of what appeared to be mulled wine. 'If comfort were an alcoholic beverage, this might be it,' August thought as she felt the warmth of it against her hands while the spiced aroma encircled her.

Greta led them toward where Sam was huddled speaking with someone. When Sam and his friend turned to see who was approaching, August immediately knew the two men were related. Aside from hair color, they almost looked like they could be twins.

Sam's face lit-up. "Hey brother," his warm, deep voice called, and he embraced Graeme in a one-armed hug. "Welcome August," his smile moved to cast her within its light as he nodded toward her. "Thank you for coming."

There was a moment's pause before Graeme extended a hand to the man beside Sam, "Jack, how are you?" The two shook hands before Graeme turned to introduce August.

"This is my mate, August," and Jack gave her a kind smile as he shook her hand. He looked like someone who would be an easy friend—just like Sam.

"I have heard a lot about you, August," he said. "We're all very glad you're here," he said sincerely before shifting his eyes back to Graeme.

August listened as the three of them started talking about the brewery, and someone arrived to hand Graeme a mug of a 'Moon Maeve' brew they continued to discuss with boyish enthusiasm.

"Come with me, sis. It's about to get really boring," Greta whispered, pulling August by the hand away from the men. Graeme watched his sister and mate leave, giving Greta and August a nod before turning to continue the conversation with Sam and his cousin.

"What's different about a farm brewery?" August asked as they made their way around the fire.

"Maybe I should have left you with them," Greta giggled. "Everything they use is grown here by pack members. It's a way of honoring the land and supporting each other at the same time. It's kind of like a celebration of us," August watched as the firelight danced over Greta's features as she spoke with love about her home.

"This spiced wine is good," August said. "Did Sam and Jack make that as well?"

"No, it's more of an old tradition for full moon celebrations. We call it moonwine," she said. "Every full moon is a little different, and every moonwine made reflects that as well. Tonight is the one and only harvest moon of the year, and this one has more cinnamon and clove. It's dangerous, though. Be careful," Greta laughed.

The two stopped close to a group that had formed listening to a small folk band playing. August could see a young woman with dreads playing the violin over the silhouettes of shoulders and bodies around them, and others were also participating beyond her view.

Fingers squeaked and slid along guitar strings between the chords rising around them, stirring a kind of nostalgia in August that she couldn't place. Finally she caught sight of three other male band members on guitar and bass illuminated by firelight. No one took notice of Greta and August's presence.

"Oh my goddess, so he finally marked you? What a relief," Greta said at her side. "And he told me it healed your concussion. Honestly, it doesn't surprise me a bit. I tried to get him to do it while you were in a coma, because I thought it would help you recover," Greta started rambling for August's eyes to grow large at the revelation.

"That boy…" Greta trailed off before turning to hug August again with a squeal, leaving August gasping for air. 'Okay, Greta may have had too much to drink.' But she couldn't help but look affectionately at the peach-haired girl who seemed to exude nothing but pure happiness. Out here in the open forest, August couldn't help but feel she was seeing Greta in a new way—in an atmosphere that suited her.

"He didn't make you wear the contacts, I see, so that's a plus," Greta added. "How did it go with Sylvia today?"

"Really great," August nodded. "She's wonderful."

"She is, isn't she? She's practically been like a mom to Graeme and I," Greta replied. "You can trust her, I promise. She cares about Graeme and I and the pack like we're all her own children. And she's brilliant with the people we help. We've seen some incredible results with her reiki. She considers it a way of honoring the alyko who were killed as well as Sam's dad who passed several years ago."

"Sam's dad died?" August's face scrunched together at the information—she was suddenly overcome by the intensity of that loss, even though she didn't know him. These people who had taken her in like family and helped her… they had lost someone so important to them.

"Yes, it was hard. David was such an amazing man," Greta replied. "When Graeme and I were little, we used to call him Uncle David. I still remember how he would tell us ghost stories around bonfires like this. We often hold smaller bonfires for the pups so they have a sense of tradition without being exposed to the adult version…"

As August was listening to Greta, her eyes scanned the people who were scattered in a ring around the fire. One face partially obscured by the heat of the fire's flame caught her attention, because its glare was unforgiving. Lucas.

She noticed several others in his orbit laughing and being rowdy. A few big wolves were wrestling playfully around them. The warmth from the bonfire suddenly felt incredibly hot, and she saw all the auras around her explode with intensity.

"August?" Greta was tugging on her arm. "Are you okay?" her thumping heart calmed as she tore her eyes from Lucas' glare to see Greta next to her.

"Yeah," August replied too high-pitched to be believable.

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"Your eyes went… completely black," Greta whispered. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah. I've just had the vision come back after Graeme marked me… and it's… you know. A process," she shrugged, mumbling whatever came to her mind as an explanation. Her cheeks suddenly felt too warm. Was it the drink? She looked down at the orange garnish on her cup and the spiced drink that was now nearly empty.

"Miss August, I brought you another mug," suddenly Finn was beside them, and August took the drink happily.

"Thank you, Finn," she smiled, and when she glanced at Lucas through the fire, she saw him send a smirk her way. Despite the wine's warm temperature, she drank it quickly. Finn's eyes grew wide.

"And I'll be back with another promptly," he said before disappearing.

Greta was still watching her uneasily. "Greta, I'm fine," a fast smile spread across August's face helped, no doubt, by the alcohol hitting her bloodstream. But Greta allowed the smile to convince her, and she squeezed August's hand.

Suddenly a young woman approached them from somewhere amongst the crowd. She was fidgeting nervously, and her eyes were rimmed a bright red. "Greta, may I speak with you?"

"Hi, Lucia. Um…" Greta glanced at August. "Now is not a great time…"

"Greta, it's fine," August assured her. She saw Greta turn to look for her brother. "Really, it's okay."

"Are you sure?" Greta looked at her apologetically.

"Yes, absolutely," she said with sincerity. After all, she had the beautiful aura of the night and the fire and the music and the forest and the full moon somewhere above her. "Finn is coming back, remember?"

Greta nodded uneasily. "I'll just be a moment," she said before following Lucia into the shadows where the bonfire's light didn't reach.

"Here you are, Miss August," Finn was instantly back, offering her another mug that she took happily, sipping from it as others continued laughing and dancing around them.

"Thanks, Finn," she said. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said, smiling widely.

"How old are you?" she asked curiously.

"I'm 16, Miss August," his chest puffed out proudly, and she couldn't contain the giggle that erupted at the sight of such a naive and proud young lycan like Finn who had been impressed by her desperate attempt at survival.

"What? Are you charmed by my boyish good looks?" his eyebrows took turns raising and lowering in a comical display.

"That must be it," she laughed.

"Can I ask you something, Miss August?" Finn asked.

"Of course," she responded back in kind.

"Do you have a scar from where Marius bit you?" his eyes shone with eager curiosity, and August couldn't help but pause at the sudden return to her least favorite topic. Would his memory forever haunt her?

"You don't have to show me," he said quickly, "It's just that lycans don't often scar given our healing ability. They've always fascinated me for that reason. And you're kind of a hero. So many people despise Marius, even in the council…"

"I understand, Finn," she smiled politely and pulled up her sleeve to show him the pearly pink skin that looked shiny in the fire light.

"I-it was hurt before M-Marius, though. I'm not sure it counts," she stuttered, looking at the scar along with him.. Just then a group of people ran by whooping and laughing loudly, startling her into dropping her drink.

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