Page 22 of Fat Forced Mate

The entrance hall buzzes with pre-trial activity. Pack members pause their conversations to stare as I pass, whispers following in my wake. I catch fragments that make my blood boil:

"—can't believe they're actually letting her compete—"

"—disgrace to pack tradition—"

"—Alpha can't possibly accept—"

I hold my head high, channeling every ounce of confidence I've built in the past five years. Let them whisper. Let them judge. I'm not that scared girl anymore.

The morning air hits like a slap as we exit the pack house, crisp with early autumn chill. The path to the Hollow winds through ancient pines, their branches creating ever-shifting patterns of light and shadow. Here and there, younger trees grow in clusters—planted by new pack members during their claiming ceremonies. I pass the twisted oak where Nic first kissed me, its bark still bearing claw marks from where his wolf got excited and forgot to stay contained.

Every step feels haunted by memory. The hollow log where we used to leave notes for each other. The flat rock by the creek's edge where we planned impossible futures. The small clearing where he first told me his wolf recognized something special in me, even if I couldn't shift.

The Hollow itself opens before us like a wound in the earth—a natural amphitheater carved by centuries of water and magic. Torches ring the space, though they burn with ordinary fire this morning rather than last night's ceremonial blue flames. Pack members fill the ascending rings of stone seats, their excitement a palpable thing.

My escorts lead me to the preparation area, a small tent set up at the edge of the space. Inside, Victoria waits with what looks like ceremonial clothing, robes, and heavy jewelry.

"The course for the Trial of Strength has been set," she says without preamble. "You'll face three challenges: strength, agility, and endurance. Complete them all within the time limit, and you pass this trial."

I set my jaw. "And if I fail?"

Her silver eyes meet mine steadily. "Exile or death. You’d do well to hope for neither—they are equally unsavory fates.”

My magic stirs at the challenge in her voice. Does she want me to fail? Or is she trying to make me angry enough to succeed?

I change quickly in the minimal privacy I am offered, the fabric cool against my skin. The outfit—fitted black pants, a shirt, and jacket I can move in easily—fits perfectly, which means someone knew my measurements. The thought makes me uneasy.

When I emerge, the crowd falls silent. I scan the gathered faces automatically, looking for... there. Nic stands on the Alpha's platform, his expression carefully blank. But his wolf eyes flash when they meet mine, and for a moment, I'm back in his office, pressed against his desk as desire crackles between us.

I wrench my gaze away.Focus. I need to focus.

The trial course stretches out before me, a nightmare made real. Sheer rock faces slick with morning dew. Rope bridges spanning gaps that seem to drop into forever. A section of the lake cordoned off for what I assume is the underwater challenge. Each obstacle looks specifically designed to advantage shifted wolves—and therefore to disadvantage me.

Thomas's voice rings out across the Hollow: "The Trial of Strength begins in two minutes. Candidate, take your mark."

I move to the starting position, forcing my breathing to remain steady. My magic hums beneath my skin, responding to my determination. They want to humiliate me? Fine. Let's show them exactly what a hybrid can do.

"One minute," Thomas calls.

I risk one final glance at Nic. His hands grip the platform's railing hard enough to make the wood creak. Does he want me to succeed? To fail? Does it matter?

"Thirty seconds."

The crowd's anticipation builds like a physical weight. I can smell their excitement, their certainty that I'll fail. Their desire to see the hybrid put in her place.

"Ten seconds."

I close my eyes, letting my magic flow through me.

I am Luna Morgan, daughter of witch and wolf. I've survived their cruelty before. I'll survive it again.

"Begin!"

I open my eyes and step forward to face my fate.

Chapter 10 - Dominic

The morning sun creeps over the Hollow's eastern rim, casting long shadows across the trial course. From my position on the highest platform, I can see every brutal obstacle in perfect detail. The rock wall stands forty feet high, its surface slick with dew and treacherous moss. The rope bridge sways in the wind, individual fibers already starting to fray—someone has deliberately weathered the ropes to make them less stable. The lake's surface appears calm, but I know the underwater tunnel's swift currents could challenge even a shifted wolf.

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