My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Happy Thanksgiving to my readers in the States! Starting December 1st, LMSF will be updating 2 chapters daily, and I'll have a discord link coming around that time as well. In the meantime, eat well and stay safe friends!

***

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little scuffle," she waved it off, rolling her eyes with the smile still on her face.

Seeing August's expression remain unchanged, she added, "It'll be gone by tomorrow. No worries," and she squeezed August's arm reassuringly. "Putting little shits in their place, remember?" she mumbled out the side of her mouth, finally bringing a small smile to August's face.

No one else looked concerned about it, and August remembered how Greta had caused Gunnar to go flying like a rag doll at the pack house. Maybe 'scuffles' were common, and the peach-haired girl certainly seemed capable of handling herself. August looked at Graeme who gave her a reassuring nod.

"Jack was mentioning to August how the pups might like learning art techniques from her," Sam said to Greta.

Greta's face brightened. "What a great idea," she agreed, turning to August. "The ones who are interested now just rely on YouTube, I'm sure."

"What ages are you talking about?" August asked. The word 'pups' had her curious.

"The kids pretty much run wild until they're seven or eight. I mean, they learn to read and write at home, but then they get training in things like our history, pack relations, fighting in their human forms, and other varied topics around seven. They learn to fight as wolves after they shift for the first time."

"When do they shift for the first time?" August asked.

"Around puberty for most. After they know the basic stuff, they pretty much follow their own interests. There's a lot of intern-like relations that happen when they get a bit older, and anyone who wants to venture out to go to college or live amongst humans in other ways does that with some extra work," Greta explained.

There was a lot to learn about the way this new world worked, August realized. "It sounds really laid-back," she said.

"It is, but it works surprisingly well that way," Greta replied to have the three men around them nod in agreement. "Everyone seems to dive really deep into what interests them. But it certainly helps to be exposed to a greater variety of things rather than being left to stumble across it on the Internet or something like that."

"I'd love to be involved. It sounds great," August nodded. It would be exciting to have an opportunity to share what she loved in a way that might benefit others here, especially kids.

"Mel should be here. She's the one who knows all the kids and acts as the organizer with families and mentors for Woodside," Sam said, looking around the distant circle of faces to see if he could spot her.

"Woodside?" August tilted her head in question.

"This area is Woodside," Graeme explained next to her. "Smaller social events are usually divided by area—like pup training."

"There's also Lakeside and Meadowside," Greta added.

The four of them became distracted by a crowd that had gathered around the folk band on the far side of the bonfire. There were hoots from several of the people in the crowd, and then they all started clapping in time with the music. August could see more and more of them begin spinning around and dancing.

"I love this song. Come dance with me!" Greta exclaimed and grabbed August's hand.

August's eyes went wide, but Greta's excitement was contagious. She found herself unable to refuse when she saw the way the peach-haired girl's eyes shone happily. She gave their intertwined hands a suspicious look, wondering about whether Greta was influencing her unfairly.

"Come on, sis," Greta insisted, pulling August along behind her. August twisted around to find Graeme's encouraging smile, and she let out a giggle as she stumbled to catch up with the girl who was tugging on her.

When they reached the side of the fire where the instruments soared higher and they could feel the deep male voice of the guitarist, Greta's excitement was already bubbling up higher in August's chest, and she decided to just go with it. Everyone here was giving themselves over to the melody, moving and spinning, seemingly chasing the notes around the air and adding to them with the rhythm of their bodies. It was contagious.

Soon August was moving and spinning with Greta, enjoying the way the music teased her into creating a kind of freeform embodiment of it. It felt so good.

With their hair whipping around them, August looked up to find Greta's happiness mirroring her own, and August was so grateful for this girl in front of her. And for the bonfire. For the mythical creatures who she was surrounded by. For her mate. For fun. This—this was fun.

Graeme was watching his sister and his mate from the other side of the fire, and he chuckled. August was having fun. It was incredible.

"No need to worry about someone messing with her now that Greta kicked everyone's ass," Sam laughed.

"Greta," Graeme chuckled again and shook his head. "Who were the casualties?"

"Violet, Lucas, and a few of their friends," Sam shrugged.

"Who gave her the scratches?" Graeme asked, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Sam looked at Graeme's profile without responding to it. When Graeme turned to catch his gaze, Sam felt his mouth twitch.

"I don't know. You can go get the scent from her if you'd like," he answered. Graeme stared at his sister's mate until Sam finally turned to look away.

Sam respected Graeme without question, but he was slowly recalling how Graeme's protectiveness of his sister grated on him. He was glad that Graeme cared for her, of course, but he didn't appreciate feeling like his mate bond was somehow in competition with the twin bond. And Greta was capable enough of taking care of herself in minor situations like this without anyone overreacting.

"She's basically a female you, Graeme, don't worry about it," Sam muttered.

"So… am I allowed to ask what everyone here is wondering, Graeme? Will you finally be taking over?" Jack interrupted.

"It's a little early to talk about all of that, Jack," Sam answered. "There are a lot of variables."

"I just want to know if I need to find a new partner," Jack chuckled while shrugging his shoulders. "No doubt you'll be his second, am I right?"

"I will likely need all the help I can get," Graeme said finally before glancing at Sam's cousin. "There's some fucked up shit going down in the Council. But I need to investigate the extent of it before I know for sure."

Jack's eyebrows pinched together and he rolled back on his heels in thought. "That doesn't surprise me. The Council is fucked," he sighed.

Graeme looked at him more intently this time. "It's gone downhill. Everything, man," he answered the silent question in Graeme's eyes. "Greta never mentioned it?"

"She didn't want to burden you with what seems like trivial things," Sam interjected.

"Trivial?" Jack's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Jack," Sam's eyes darkened. "Everyone is eating. The pack is healthy. The border is secure. Trade is better than ever."

Jack scoffed. "Yes. You're right. The basics are there."

"You said everything was going downhill," Sam reminded him.

"Morale. Morale affects everything, doesn't it? The fucking spirit of this place is broken," Jack mumbled. "You know, like—look at them," he gestured toward the crowd of dancers. "That is not a regular sight. That is the spirit of this place, is it not?"

After they all watched the crowd of dancers for several moments longer, Jack turned to Graeme. "It feels like you two have breathed a bit of that spirit back into us tonight."

And then Jack sighed heavily, as if releasing something that he had been holding for a long time. He slapped Graeme on the back.

"You can count on me, Alpha.. For anything."