My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

"Everything is going to be okay," Selah muttered to herself as she and Jack walked through the forest toward the treehouse.

She was trying to calm herself down after her failure to find Sage. She had searched everywhere. It was unlikely he was still on pack land, but she still felt a nagging hope that he would be.

"Can we make a stop on the way?" she asked the male who was leading her.

She knew where the treehouse was, but he had been walking ahead, allowing her to stay in her own private little bubble of thoughts. Selah had been muttering and wringing her hands, eyes darting all over as she thought of scenarios and sketched plans in her mind for sneaking back into Zagan's world.

"Where?" Jack stopped and glanced at her suspiciously.

"There's just one more place I would like to look. Just in case…" she trailed off, becoming lost in her thoughts again. "He might be there," she whispered to herself and then took off at a sprint with Jack giving chase.

Jack was calling for to her to stop, growling to himself that the one important task he had been given was going sideways. Just when he was considering shifting into his wolf so he could easily overtake her, he realized where she was headed. His speed eased, allowing her to maintain the distance in front of him.

They came upon Magnolia's old cottage, lying eerily vacant in the light of the full moon. There was the recognizable flicker of flames through the window, and for a moment the past flashed before Jack's eyes. He was a pup when the alyko had been burned in this cottage. He watched the flames engulf them and heard their screams just like everyone else. It was something that haunted him to this day.

Selah disappeared over the bridge and into the cottage, and a muscle feathered in his jaw. Was he really going to have to follow her in there? He wasn't afraid of much, but this place gave him the creeps.

"Someone brought a pure fire to this hearth," Selah told him when he finally entered. "There is fresh wood."

"That's… interesting," was all he could say. Did someone do it in memorial or was it some kind of sick joke?

Both of their ears pricked to the sound of shocked murmurs at the back of the cottage. They looked at each other, a question widening in their eyes, before running to the back to follow the sound.

Selah stopped abruptly when she saw a small group of females huddled together, gazing at the cottage and the forest and the moonlight as if they were lost. Jack looked on, eyebrows pinching together when he couldn't immediately tell who these females were.

"Call Greta," Selah said softly without taking her eyes off of the group. "We are going to need a healer."

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Graeme stalked back into the dungeon, fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to release some of the fury that had overtaken him. Watching Andreas burn had not been as satisfying as he hoped.

"Graeme," his Beta called softly behind him. He didn't pause, didn't turn, didn't make any indication that he heard him. "Graeme!" Sam finally roared, insisting on having a conversation before Graeme added another elder to the fire.

Graeme spun around, fuming.

"This is not the way," Sam said. "You are angry…"

"Should I not be angry?" Graeme puttered, the sound of his voice so deep, it resonated even in Sam's chest.

"Of course you should be, but this will not bring your memory back… This will not bring any of them back. It will not make you feel better. It will only make you more angry and bloodthirsty," Sam replied. "You know how it works. Once a lycan lets this level of fury take over his emotions… he can get lost to it."

Sam was right. Lycans were naturally more inclined to the blood thirst that allowed them to kill without remorse, but the strong unity and familial bonds of a pack kept that from happening unless needed in extreme circumstances.

But following the sizzling hatred that was leading him was the most appealing thing right now. It allowed him to do something rather than remain helplessly on the sidelines, waiting for something that may never come.

"They deserve this fate," Graeme growled.

"They do. They deserve worse," Sam agreed. "But this pack has been through so much, and the loss of their previous elders in such a brutal way without explanation… they may not understand it."

Sam was asking him to consider this rationally with the pack's mentality above his own?

"You are Alpha now," Sam reminded him. "You need to consider how every action of yours will be affecting every other person in this pack. They look up to you for guidance and security."

"This concerns their security," Graeme growled again.

"This is not about security right now. This is about revenge," his Beta replied, telling him what he already knew. "And the pack members still have yet to know about the elders' crimes against them. We didn't get that far tonight."

"They will not trust me, their Alpha, to make a decision like this for them?" Graeme tilted his head challengingly.

"You are making it for yourself!" Sam snapped, glaring at his childhood friend who was failing to admit what was driving him.

Hatred like this could only lead to more of the same. It would not purify the pack. It would not release the crimes of the past. It would not bring back the people they had lost.

"I don't know how to feel anything else right now," Graeme admitted, gritting his teeth and curling his fingers over the hatred that was still sending sparks down his arms. "The loss… all I have ever known is loss. And now I'm choking on it."

"Let's go back to the treehouse and hear what Selah has to say. Goddess, she brought a pup back! She must know how to go after our Luna and the others. Focus on that hope. I know you can sense it… the hope that blooms in the darkness even now. We never stopped hoping for you to return," Sam added, taking a small step toward his friend. "And you did."

Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he answered it, watching Graeme become restless again without Sam's hopeful thoughts to anchor him.

"They are where?" his eyebrows pinched together.. "We will be right there."