My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Chapter 190 - Dormant Feelings

"Sam, can you do me a favor?" Graeme asked.

"Of course," he replied, standing a little straighter in response to Graeme's question.

"August is in the market alone. She's looking for something she lost last time she was there. I don't want to doubt that she will be okay on her own with the pack, but I don't want to be wrong either. Especially right now in the wake of dispatching Auden. Any immediate issues would obviously complicate things," he explained to his Beta.

"I will make sure she is safe, Alpha," Sam replied with a small smile, understanding what Graeme was wanting of him.

"Thank you, Beta," Graeme chuckled at the use of formal titles and nodded as Sam left Graeme with Sylvia and Charlotte.

"I truly appreciate you both coming today and agreeing to be two of my advising elders. It's clear already how right of a choice it is. You have helped me tremendously," Graeme stood from behind the desk and walked around to the front to more casually sit on its edge.

"Your father used to sit on his desk like that," Sylvia chuckled, the fondness of this young male clear in her eyes. She had known him since his birth. Today, to be in his office—a chosen elder to advise him—and to be able to fully appreciate the male he has becoming, it was a gift.

Graeme's expression softened with the memory Sylvia recalled, and he glanced down at the way his body was positioned. He had been in this office and seen his father sit just like this, although he had forgotten it until now. Those memories had been obscured later by the cold atmosphere of this office when it was occupied by Andreas.

That was a torturous period of time between his parents' deaths and his departure from the pack. The lessons. The training. The cold disappointment in the eyes of the elders that followed him everywhere—with every task. He was nothing compared to his father, and they made him always aware of it.

And the memories of his father… the way he commanded a room with only his breath. The honor and respect that ran through his veins and had Graeme always in awe of him as a pup. His father was like the sun with every face turning toward him, following him, in awe.

Graeme had realized, especially after Violet had gotten pregnant—a female whom he felt to his bones was not his mate—that he could never live up to his father. And the guilt—the guilt of all the alyko being killed—it weighed on him and only got heavier with time.

The guilt he had constantly carried all those years had still only recently been relieved after meeting August. That night she had reached past the threshold of his skin and stolen something from his heart… that night had changed him—as did every day and night now that he had spent with his mate—and now Graeme was empowered to be the male he was intended to be. The male sitting here on the corner of his desk in the same position his father used to.

But being here even now, there was still that lingering fear that had been instilled after his father's death that he could never live up to the position that was last Derek Hallowell's.

"You are not your father," Charlotte echoed his thoughts, somehow aware of what had suddenly come to trouble him. The delicate, paper thin skin of her hand was resting on his shoulder. "It is true. But then you were never meant to be him, were you?"

Graeme dropped his eyes to the floor, eyebrows threaded considering this. He had always thought he was to become the male his father had been, and that seemed to be the expectation that was silently placed upon him by the elders during his training. It was an unfair standard, one that could never be achieved. Because he was not Derek Hallowell. He was himself.

"Your father was the right male for his time. Just as you are the right male for this one, Graeme Hallowell. The Moon Goddess does not make mistakes. Allow yourself to feel this to the fullest and welcome it. Be at peace, Alpha," Charlotte's last words were gentle and reassuring. He didn't know until now how badly he had needed to hear them. And hearing them from her—it was as if a final burden had been lifted.

Graeme exhaled heavily and offered the elder female a genuine smile as repayment for her words. "Thank you, Charlotte. Genuinely, thank you."

He stood and returned behind his desk, flipping a few papers there.

"Now, would you both prefer not being present for the day-to-day activities of the council? Sylvia mentioned this last night, and I understand. I don't want to be greedy with your time. I can always call on you when needed or let you know the schedule for meetings in which your presence would be most welcome."

He found the sketch he was seeking—one he had asked August to make for him last night before they went to bed.

"Alternatively," he said, spinning the sketch around so that it faced the two females who approached, "I could have a much less claustrophobic space created for you here in the pack house. One that retains the sophistication and respect of your positions and yet is more aligned with what you both value. And one that serves an even larger purpose."

"And what is that, Alpha?" Sylvia asked, eyes glinting with surprise.

"Greta has lamented in the past about how the pack house lacks a space welcoming of our females and pups who are in need of more support. Whether they have lost mates or families or have been brought in as strays… there should be a place for them here that is specific to their needs. Where they feel embraced by the warmth and affection of family. That is what our pack is, after all. That is what I want for it," he explained, pointing on the sketch to some of the spaces he and August had imagined creating that would offer these things.

Charlotte and Sylvia both looked positively shocked as they huddled over the drawing.

"It is a crude sketch that my mate helped me with at the last minute, and we can change it as you wish. I think we can clear some of these existing offices in the central area of the pack house and build up from there. A place that is open to the sky—letting in the light and the stars at night—and with comfortable areas for females and pups to stay if needed. We can arrange all of this…" he stopped abruptly when he realized Sylvia's chest was heaving with quiet sobs—a palm covering her mouth to keep the sounds from escaping. But when Charlotte approached her with a comforting hand on her arm, the sobs broke free, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the gush of tears, wrapping one arm tightly around herself while the other stayed clamped against her mouth.

"Sylvia," Graeme inhaled, rounding the desk once again. "I am so sorry. Have I said something?"

She unwrapped her arms from around herself and aggressively embraced him, sobbing now into his shoulder like a pup. He stood stunned for a moment, arms out to the side, until it occurred to him what was happening. This plan had touched her deeply on a personal level.

He sighed tormentedly, realizing how much she had needed something like this when she lost her mate. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you," he said, embracing her and letting her empty all of those dormant feelings into this moment. "As your Alpha, I should have been here. You were not taken care of as you should have been."

She silently shook her head against him in protest to his words but grasped him tighter, crumpling the back of his shirt in her hands.