Page 28 of Fat Forced Mate

I frown. "What emergency meeting?"

"The one Victoria called at dawn. Very hush-hush, very urgent." She pauses. "The one your future mate is currently attending instead of brooding outside your door like he has been every morning this week."

Heat creeps into my cheeks. I've been pretending not to notice Nic's daily patrols past my quarters, just like I've been pretending not to feel his eyes on me during meals. Just like I've been pretending my magic doesn't reach for him every time he's near, like it's trying to complete something I don't understand.

"He's not brooding," I mutter. "He's just... doing his Alpha duties. Checking on the candidate."

"Right. Because all Alphas press their ‘candidates’ against trees and—"

My magic spikes before she can finish, sending the breakfast tray flying. Ruby ducks with practiced ease as pastries sail overhead.

"Okay, okay!" She raises her hands in surrender. "No talking about it. Got it."

I slump into the window seat beside her, watching the pastries finally succumb to gravity. "I don't know what I'm doing, Ruby. Any of it. The trials, Nic, this..." I gesture at the chaos my magic has created. "Something feels wrong. Not just pack politics wrong, butwrongwrong. And I can't tell if it's real or if I'm just—"

"Paranoid? Stressed? Overthinking everything because the man who broke your heart suddenly can't keep his hands off you?"

"Not helping."

She bumps my shoulder gently. "You've always been good at sensing trouble before it happens. If your magic thinks something's coming, maybe we should listen."

Before I can respond, voices drift up from the courtyard below. The Council meeting must be ending. I press closer to the window, trying to catch snippets of conversation through the ancient glass.

"—can't ignore the pattern anymore—" That's Thomas, his usual composure fractured.

"—not ready for another attack—" Elder Patricia sounds scared, which sends ice down my spine. She's never scared.

"Silence." Victoria's command cracks through the air. "We don't discuss this where—"

The voices fade as they move out of range. Ruby and I share another look.

"Another attack?" she whispers.

My magic coils tight, responding to a threat I can't yet see. The air grows thick with power, making it hard to breathe. Outside, storm clouds gather despite the earlier clear sky.

"Something's coming," I say softly. "I think it might be something bad."

The words feel like prophecy on my tongue. Like truth. Like warning.

***

Later, the pack library smells of leather and secrets, dust motes dancing in shafts of afternoon light. I trace my fingers along spines that feel older than time itself, my magic reaching out to brush against the residual power that clings to certain volumes. Some books seem to hum beneath my touch. Others shy away, their knowledge meant for wolf blood only.

"The second trial traditionally tests pack knowledge," Ruby explains, balanced precariously on a rolling ladder. "History, politics, bloodlines—all the tedious stuff your mother used to complain about."

I pause at a familiar title.Hybrid Theories and Practices, Volume III.The same book Melissa once used to prove I shouldn't be allowed in pack training. "Assuming they haven't changed the rules to make it impossible for me."

"After how you handled the first trial? They'd look ridiculous trying to—" Ruby cuts off as voices approach from the adjacent council room. We both freeze, listening.

"—just like fifteen years ago." Victoria's voice, tight with something that might be fear. "The same patterns, the same signs—"

"We don't know that." Nic's response carries that new edge of Alpha authority that still makes my magic spark. "There's no proof the Cheslem Pack—"

A door slams, cutting off the rest. Ruby and I exchange glances.

"The Cheslem Pack?" she mouths.

I shake my head. The name tickles something in my memory, but it slips away before I can grasp it. My magic stirs uneasily, like it knows something I don't.

---