My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

"Are you sleeping in that chair?" August asked.

"I have been."

She raised her head slightly and looked over at him. "That can't be easy."

"It's not bad."

An uncomfortable silence fell around them as they were both acutely aware of the other's presence but now unsure of themselves. 'What now?' August thought. Uncertainty and fear started creeping into her heart while Graeme kept his distance, not wanting to upset her further. But she wasn't angry. She just didn't understand any of this—what was happening to her, where she was, and she had nothing familiar to comfort herself with. She might as well be set adrift in the middle of the ocean somewhere.

The only thing she did have was this werewolf—no, lycan—savior of hers that she felt powerfully drawn to for some reason. The intensity of it scared her. He said she was his soulmate, but it didn't make sense. He would realize it at some point, and then she would be at the mercy of this nightmare. Thinking this made her ache for the home she couldn't return to.

"Do you think…" she started. "Do you think you could sleep over here?" Her voice was small. "You're making me nervous over there." She kept her eyes on the ceiling, panic threatening to overtake her with all the looming unknowns. "I won't attack you, I promise," she mumbled, tears stinging her eyes out of nowhere.

Catching that last remark, Graeme walked around to the other side of the bed and laid stomach down on the blanket, propping himself up with his elbows. "You think I'm afraid of you?" He smiled in amusement, leaning close to her. He smelled fresh and woodsy.

"No," she whispered. "I think you're wrong about me. I don't belong here." With you. She gulped the unspoken thought back. "What's going to happen to me?"

The light in Graeme's eyes simmered to a thoughtful one as he reached up to sweep a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'm not wrong about you," he said. "I don't know what's going to happen, but we'll figure it out together."

"Why?" she asked. It was a simple question, wasn't it? But it asked for so many answers that were beyond its reach. Graeme didn't comment on it but continued to gaze down at her where fear had started to prick her eyes again.

"How can you believe…" she trailed off. "Even if I were to turn into a wer-… into a lycan… I'm not meant to. I'm really just me, and you're like a wolf prince or something," she gestured to where his god-like form lay next to her before returning her eyes to the ceiling. "This doesn't make any sense," she said finally.

"Look at me," Graeme touched her cheek, but she kept her eyes trained above her. "August, please." When she met his eyes, their warmth pierced her, causing her cheeks to pink again.

"I knew you were my mate the moment I sensed you. That might sound weird to you since you're not familiar it, but I followed you for that reason. I didn't even have to see you, but when I did, I…" he paused. He wasn't used to being open like this. "I was afraid. Truly afraid for the first time. Afraid to lose you. Afraid to hurt you. And that fear hasn't left me. The only thing I want now is for you to be safe."

August allowed his words to stir the warmth in her chest, threading her eyebrows together at the depth of care that flooded over her with his gaze. He sounded so sincere, and she couldn't help but let it calm her.

"I haven't left this tree house for 23 days, August. I haven't shaved," Graeme chuckled, rubbing his hand over his beard and bringing it to a point below his chin. "I've slept in the chair by your side every night fearing that you wouldn't wake up, that it was my fault," little pools of emotion sprung in his eyes as he looked at her deeply. "Will you let me care for you? Treasure you?" he breathed, looking down at her lips through his dark lashes. "Please?"

She noticed now how those 23 days he spoke of seemed to hang warily in the lines around his eyes. He looked tired. He wanted to treasure her, he said. But why? All it took was him sensing her? She bit her bottom lip thinking about his words. He had done so much for her already.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't realize…"

"Shhh…" he ran his thumb over her lips and kissed her softly, "… don't be sorry." He leaned down to kiss her again with his hand on her face, lingering there on her lips before kissing her deeper, with a fuller intensity of his feelings so that she could feel the truth of what he was saying. So she wouldn't have any doubt.. He had unknowingly been waiting for her and needing her for so long.