In his memories, Graeme was running on all fours, panting, with trees whipping by. The forest was a palimpsest, its green a backdrop to fractured memories of the caring woman—’Maggie’—his thoughts repeated. ‘Maggie.’ He ran faster. But he couldn’t get away from the pain and the guilt that followed on his heels.

Men had arrived that day of his parents’ deaths to drag her away. They were his father’s men, but his father was gone. His father would’t have allowed this! Not Maggie! But the elders were there saying she was responsible for his parent’s death.

People and wolves were growling at Maggie, biting her, spitting on her. Hatred twisting their faces. Graeme and Greta stared on frozen in disbelief, the loss of their parents magnified a thousand fold as someone else they loved was taken. And they did nothing to stop it. They just stood there.

The bottom dropped out of Graeme’s world with the image of Maggie being dragged away. She was smiling at them–that kind smile that was always like a safe place to land–and then she was screaming. How could Maggie be screaming like that? What could they be doing to her?

More screams joined her. Screams of other women. Screams of children. And that’s the moment when Graeme became a haunting. A vessel filled with their screams. Screams he could never forget and a guilt he could never run from, even though he tried.

He had failed them. Maggie was gone. They were all gone.

August was weeping when she finally broke free from the memories and looked up at the present day Graeme who was still holding her. “What—what was that. What happened here?” she asked, trembling harder now.

Graeme ran a hand over his face with a heavy, miserable sigh.

“The witches you heard about today are what we refer to as alyko. They are the children of lycans who, for whatever reason, don’t retain the lycan ability to transform. In place of their wolf, they have remarkable abilities. They can control the natural elements in a way that other lycans can’t,” he said, his voice suddenly gruff and exhausted.

“Like… magic?” she asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Hence the enchantment on suicide forest. We call it the Grimm. The alyko were revered. They have always been of huge importance to packs like ours, I mean… going back centuries to the very beginning of our people. But many also feared them and their power. The woman you saw,” he paused, his eyes suddenly becoming distant.

August watched him quietly, her own stomach twisting with the memories that weren’t her own. “The, uh, woman you saw,” Graeme’s voice was softer now, “being dragged away was Magnolia. She was a dear family friend. We loved her like family. Maggie,” he smiled. “Greta and I called her Maggie. The council blamed our parents’ deaths on her.”

Graeme paused before continuing. “The elders in particular always held prejudices against the alyko, particularly Maggie because she was so close to my family, but my parents protected them. When mom and dad died, there was no one to protect them anymore. I should have tried…” He trailed off, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat.

“They killed Maggie, and then they killed the rest of them. There was no one to protect them. I wasn’t strong enough,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Even the children,” she whispered into his chest. He didn’t respond, but she had felt it just as he had. “And they think I’m a witch,” her eyes widened, thinking back to how Andreas had spoken bluntly about it. “Are they right?” She looked up at him, pushing away from him to stand herself.

“No. You’re not even born of lycans. It’s ridiculous,” he replied.

“But are my, whatever, anomalies… are they abilities that these alyko have?” She asked.

“I don’t know, but it shouldn’t matter. It’s just their stupid fear,” his eyebrows pinched together. “Greta and I have things we can do that don’t make sense for lycans. And no one has ever known for this same reason. The unjust prejudices and hatred. There are probably others in this very pack with abilities like ours. It can’t just be us,” he was gesturing wildly with his hands as he went on, his dark hair falling over his forehead.

“But I will never let anything like that happen to you. I won’t let it happen to anyone else in this pack ever again. If that means I fight to take my place as Alpha, I will without a second thought,” his eyes were hard as he grabbed August’s hand and pulled her toward him, bowing his head over hers.

“That is why I was angry. I’m angry at them, at a past that I couldn’t control. I’m angry that their ignorance is still a threat and that it’s found a new target,” his eyes softened, allowing her into the worry that was visibly emerging there. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispered.

August was stunned. She stared back at him not seeing him but seeing all the images that had been created for her by his words and his memories, by the council members at the pack house, by everything she had learned since waking up in the forest with Jonathan’s startled face looking up at her. It was so much.

“Did Maggie do it?” she swallowed.

“I can’t believe that could be true. No,” he said. “I knew it wasn’t true at the time, but I was shocked and confused… I should have been able to stop them somehow.” His jaw clenched at the thought.

“Then who?” August asked. Graeme didn’t answer right away, and his shoulders sagged.

“I don’t know,” his eyes closed, squinting against the confusion of it—of how many times he had replayed it in his mind and all the emotions it brought.

“I’ve tried… it’s hard for me to… to focus on it. I didn’t have the ability to investigate it at the time, and then when I left… I’ve just been… I’ve been doing work for the council and distracted with that. Following strays. Rogues. They were lycans who attacked my parents. That’s all I know for sure.”

“Lycans and not alyko?” August asked, confused.

“The elders provided some bullshit story about how the alyko had worked with stray lycans to plan it. It was clear, based on the… bodies,” Graeme swallowed again. “It was a lycan attack for sure. But the lycans themselves were never found.”

“That’s all so horrific… I… How do you know they’re not right about me, Graeme?” She asked, pulling away from him. “How do you know I’m not being used to target you somehow? Or the—the pack?”

“I just do,” he shook his head. “I’ve never been more sure about anything,” he reached toward her again, but she wrapped her arms around herself and looked down.

“You can’t know that,” she said quietly.

“I do,” he said in a voice that had turned gravelly. “And you do, too. You feel it like I do. We’re partners. Partners that the Moon Goddess has chosen for each other herself. It’s a gift.” ‘A gift I don’t deserve,’ he swallowed the thought back.

August didn’t respond and didn’t meet his eyes. Invoking the name of some ‘moon goddess’ didn’t strengthen her trust in any of this. It actually raised her doubts about Graeme’s logic, but she definitely couldn’t tell him that. Besides, she wouldn’t have believed that lycans or alyko witches existed, so what did she know about gods and goddesses? August stared down at her feet as Graeme watched her against the backdrop of the falling leaves and sunshine filtering through the trees.

“I told you I would take you to see the sunflower field. Do you still want to go?” He asked, but she didn’t answer. He took a few steps closer to her. “I’m sorry about the council and the pack house this morning. But there are good things and good people here, too. Give me a chance to show you some of them,” he said, extending a hand out for her to take.

August looked at his hand before looking up to meet his eyes. Meeting those deep, honest eyes was as good as acquiescing, because the pull she felt from them was undeniable, whether it was due to magic or science or destiny. It wasn’t fair that whatever connection they had seemed to be able to overpower her reason.

She reluctantly took his hand and watched as his whole body relaxed once she did. A smile crept back on his face as he rubbed his thumb over her fingers, but she didn’t return it. Instead, she looked down at her shoes again and kicked one of them at nothing in particular.

“Let’s go,” he smiled softly and led her out of the house.