My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

"We are going to blame it on Zosime. That is what we are going to do," Andreas jabbed his finger into the desk. "With the way this went down, she is no good to me at the moment anyway."

"And how is that going to work?" Pearce asked.

"We call Graeme in and apologize. We explain that in her overzealousness she orchestrated scenarios in which to test his mate. We claim ignorance as to the extent of it, and we leave her in the dungeon."

"You will leave her in the dungeon," Pearce repeated, his eyebrows tented now like his hands.

"It is not without cause," Andreas shrugged.

"And what if Graeme doesn't wait for an explanation from us?" Pearce asked.

"If that were the case, he would be here already. If he seeks to do what is best for the pack and truly become a leader, he will do his best to be reasonable. And that includes us. That will always include us," he growled.

"He needs us," Auden grumbled to himself.

"He is going to see right through this," Pearce argued. "You will blame a young girl?"

"He has met Zoe, remember? He knows how intelligent she is. Besides, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we keep things civil to buy ourselves time," Andreas said.

"How much time?" Pearce asked.

"I will make the call when we are done here. As much time as we need. A few weeks?" Andreas walked to the window and looked out across the sight that had become his companion for years now. At one point, this was the Alpha's office. But now it was his. And the view—the tree tops that rolled on and on into the horizon—that was his now as well. He wouldn't give any of it up.

"What should I do about Violet?" Auden asked.

Andreas scoffed as if it was the smallest of problems compared to everything. "Have her take a vacation," he shrugged. "She doesn't need to be running her mouth about anything. Make sure she understands," he glanced over his shoulder at Auden.

"Shall I send someone to make Zosime more comfortable for her extended stay downstairs?" Pearce rose from his seat. By no stretch of the imagination was Zoe his favorite person, but Pearce was also aware that she should be treated with care. Even if Andreas was unhappy with her and had chosen to use her as a scapegoat, he would be wise to remember that.

Andreas turned halfway from the window to consider Pearce's question. "Yes," he said simply.

————————

Zoe could tell from the footsteps that whoever was coming to let her out was not Andreas. He didn't even care enough to come do it himself. What if she wasn't even in the cell anymore? What if something truly had happened to her?

She groaned internally at the impossibility of it. If only she could be in danger like that. He never had to worry about anything like that when it came to her. No one did. It was one of the things she regretted most about her existence. That she couldn't just be vulnerable in a normal way like everyone else. That she couldn't be considered precious and fleeting in that way.

It was also one of the reasons why she had a hard time empathizing with others. How could anyone blame her if they were to know? When she saw Graeme down here in the dungeon enraged over the threat to his sister's life and his sense of protection for those he loved, they were not emotions she could understand personally, even if she could appreciate them and respect them. Neither were they emotions that anyone would ever feel for her.

Life was beautiful and fascinating from a clinical, scientific perspective. But Zoe was limited to that view of it. She could never really touch it. She could only observe it from behind glass.

Life had this fragile fascination about it that she wanted to enter into and be a part of, but the only way she could do that was through her research and experiments. Through her highly active brain. That was the only part of her that truly worked like everyone elses'.

When the key slid into the lock of her door, she considered acting like she was just like everyone else. That she was weak and vulnerable. She kept her head tucked and her arms around her knees. She didn't look up to see who it was that had come for her.

Whoever it was stood there in silence for several moments before walking over to finally stand in front of her.

"Zoe?" it was a male voice she wasn't familiar with.

She didn't respond. If she didn't already know this male, it was highly unlikely that he knew too much about her. She could pretend she was exactly how she seemed: a young, vulnerable, naive girl who had landed herself in some kind of trouble. Maybe she could even get some sympathy. It was rare that ever happened, and the idea of getting some kind of sympathy now was mouth-watering. She needed attention so badly. She hadn't even realized how badly until now.

"Are you Zoe?" the voice spoke again, and she slowly lifted her head to the speaker. He was holding a torch in his hand. She slowly nodded to his question, squinting at the light that was such a huge contrast to the darkness she had been immersed in.

Lucas cursed under his breath finding someone so young and apparently defenseless in here. She was shivering and appeared absolutely terrified. What the hell were the elders up to? He cleared his throat.

"Another cell has been arranged for you at the request of one of the elders. I think you will find that it is more comfortable than this one," he said gently. "There is even a bed and blankets. If you are cold, I can see about getting a portable heater outside the door. And food will be coming for you shortly."

"A-another cell?" her bottom lip trembled, and this time she wasn't even pretending.