Chapter 82: Bad Idea

There was a looming silence on the ride back to the treehouse. The Wagoneer made the most noise, squeaking and bouncing along over the uneven roadways and paths. August glanced back to see Bun Bun secure in his seatbelt, floppy ears occasionally lifting away from his stuffed body.

After they had arrived back home and climbed the long wooden stairs, August retrieved her camera and padded out onto the deck while Graeme wandered into the bathroom. She was on a chair with her knees pulled up to her chest as she tinkered with the controls, reacquainting herself with the settings as it had been some time since she actually used the camera. The last time was in suicide forest. She gulped at the thought. It was time to make new memories. A small smile curved on her lips as she imagined what photographs the kids here might make.

When Graeme walked out onto the deck some time later with sandwiches, he found August in the same position—focusing on the machine in her hands. He watched her quietly as she avoided his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked.

"You don't know?" she smirked up at him from her camera.

He gave her a crooked smile and took a bite from the sandwich in front of him. "The mate thing has its limitations. You need to eat," he added, gesturing toward the sandwich in front of her.

August slid her legs down and placed the camera next to her on the table. "You asked me earlier if I trusted what I saw last night during the… ritual," she said finally. He nodded silently to the question. "Do you?"

A crease formed on Graeme's forehead. "You know I do," he replied.

"You can't always be with me," August said quietly, and she saw Graeme's jaw clench in response to it.

"Yes I can. At least until things are more certain," he said deeply.

She looked down at the sandwich he had made for her before looking back up at him through pale lashes. "Doesn't that stand to the same reasoning as I suggested earlier? On waiting… on a… a baby?" She could barely even think of a baby much less say the word aloud.

Graeme's eyes darkened. There was an element of truth to what she was saying, and he knew it. But he argued nevertheless. "That's different."

"How?" she asked, taking a bite of her sandwich. "How is it different?"

"Me staying by you… I would stay by you and our child, too. The difference is me being there. Always. To protect you," his eyes were hard as he glared back at her. All she could do was sigh and chew quietly. "What happened today? Something was wrong after you helped Lily up. Did you see something?" Graeme asked.

"It's… it's hard to explain. Nothing to worry about, though," she said. It felt like her sense was extending somehow to include the pack's feelings rather than simply her mate's, but just thinking that sounded ridiculous. She had always been an empath—feeling the emotions of others too deeply even to the point of making herself physically sick. That was probably all it was.

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The rest of the weekend passed with Graeme and August finding themselves in separate corners avoiding each other. What was strange was how different of an argument this was than any August had experienced before—even days passed in silence like this weren't exactly lonely. She could still feel Graeme's presence running through her. She could sense his emotions, and he wasn't angry. He was concerned. It was a difference of opinion that left them both temporarily stranded like this. And as long as they were in each other's presence, however silent that presence was, it was still comforting somehow. So she spent the time reading up on the pack history.

Apparently the presence of the elder guardians was a legacy passed down from the first lycan families in the Hallowell pack. This book was a bit odd, though, as there were no exact dates pinning things down like one might find in a typical record of history. This was written more like a mythos… with the events and people themselves taking priority. The Hallowell pack's story arced over the book with a kind of timeless knowledge, woven in like roots extending through soil.

Andreas, Auden, and Pearce were all descendants of three of the first families. And Graeme and Greta were descendants of the Hallowells, a family that was believed to be divinely appointed to lead the pack by the Moon Goddess. Each Hallowell heir was believed to be born with the gift of a strength and wisdom that allowed superior leadership for the entire pack. But as far as August could tell, the pack members were all equally important.

Descriptions of the pack were like a body working together with the Alpha and Luna as the head. Like shoulders supporting this head, the guardians were sent to aid the Hallowell family, and they did this unwaveringly over the years.

It seemed Graeme was the first to abdicate his role in the leadership of the Hallowells, and that bit of history wasn't yet included in the volume August had in her hands. How would the pack body operate without its head?

It wasn't until Sunday night as August was nestled in a corner of the bed still reading up on the history while Graeme was busy making dinner that it occurred to her that there was no mention in this particular book about the alyko. What was the history of the alkyo? It was a glaring omission. If it was a heritable trait, when had it first become apparent? Who were the first to not be able to turn into wolves? The questions filled August's mind as she walked into the kitchen where the smell of pizza met her.

"Homemade pizza?" August asked, watching Graeme as he waited next to the oven with a pot holder on his hand. The image of him—the epitome of masculinity with his chiseled muscles and air of authority—standing with a potholder waiting for dinner had her smirking to herself.

"Sausage and pepperoni," he said, glancing at her.

"My favorite," she smiled, her smile falling down slightly as she realized he was still avoiding her gaze.

"Hey, I have a question for you," she ventured. She saw his eyebrows raise in response while his eyes continued to avoid her. "The alyko… There's no mention of them in here," she said, waving the book in her hand.

"Yeah," he said simply.

"Well… what's the history there? Why wouldn't it mention it?" She heard him let out a deep sigh.

"They've never been included in that history," he answered. When August didn't reply, he looked up to see her watching him. The curiosity in her shimmering eyes tugged at him. "The first documented history I've ever seen of the alyko… was at the council just this past week. The alyko files," he said.

"The alyko files?" she repeated for him to nod.. "Well, what did they say?" August felt a deep discomfort widen inside of him at this question, and it made her uneasy. "What is it? What's wrong?"

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