Page 34 of Fat Forced Mate

I'll protect you somehow,I promise silently, both hands pressed to my stomach. In my head, my voice sounds like my mother’s does in my memories of her.Whatever comes next, whatever they think of us, I'll keep you safe. You'll never feel unwanted or wrong or less-than. You'll know you're exactly what you're meant to be.

And if I have to, I’ll get us out of here. Anything to keep you safe from this place.

My magic hums in response, and somewhere deep inside, I swear I feel an answering spark. It’s probably in my head. But I cling to it. I have nothing else to cling to.

Everything in this room feels unstable, off-angle, wrong. Tomorrow, I'll face the Trial of Unity, trying to forge bonds with pack members who may never accept me. But now I carry an even greater secret, an even more impossible truth: I'm carrying their Alpha's child. And none of them can know. I refuse to allow them that power over me, the power to threaten this child, the child that hardly feels like mine yet but undeniably is.

"Ready?" Ruby asks softly from the doorway. Her voice snaps me from my hopeless reverie.

No. I'm not ready. Not for any of this. It feels like I’ll never be. But I straighten my spine anyway, letting my magic settle inside me, a lodestone, a weight to anchor me to the rationality that’s kept me alive through everything. "Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

We slip out of the bathroom together, back toward the Council meeting I fled. Every step feels different now. I’m unsteady.

We can do this,I tell the tiny spark of life inside me. It feels selfish, as if I’m not really speaking to them at all. It’s true—I’m not. The words are only for myself. The child still doesn't feel real, doesn't feel like much more than an idea. But something inside me is shifting, something tectonic. It’s becoming closer to ‘real’ with each passing moment.

The morning sun streams through pack house windows around me, dizzyingly bright, painting everything in shades of possibility. Change comes whether we're ready or not. All we can do is face it with whatever strength we possess. I close my eyes, steel myself against the unforgiving world, and move forward.

Chapter 14 - Dominic

Something's different about Luna.

The thought nags at me as I watch her hurry from the Council chamber once more at the conclusion of the meeting, her magic crackling in her wake. The scent trail she leaves is... altered somehow. Still lavender and sage and pure Luna, but with an undertone I can't quite identify. My wolf paces restlessly, sensing something important just beyond our understanding.

"Should someone check on her?" Thomas asks, but I wave him off.

"Give her space." The words cost me, going against every instinct that demands I follow her. "Ruby's with her. She'll be fine."

But 'fine' isn't the right word for how Luna's been lately. There’s a crackling energy about her like electricity—I feel it in the air whenever she’s nearby. She moves differently, more carefully, though I can’t tell why. And she's been avoiding me—ducking down different corridors when she spots me, making excuses to leave rooms I enter, keeping careful distance even during required meetings.

A week has passed since I last got close enough to touch her. Seven days since she let me catch her scent properly. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. It’s been hell—I’d never admit that out loud to anyone, least of all her, but it has been. One hundred and sixty-eight hours of burning.

Not that I'm counting.

"Nic?" Thomas's voice breaks through my brooding. "The border patrol?"

Right. I have actual duties beyond obsessing over Luna Morgan's changing scent. "Gather the teams. We leave in ten."

The autumn air hits me like a slap as we exit the pack house, crisp with approaching winter, simultaneously waking me up and pissing me off. Perfect tracking weather—every scent sharp and clear, every sound carrying for miles. My wolf is eager for the run, desperate to burn off some of the restless, discontented energy that’s been fizzing in my gut for days.

But even as we shift and race toward the northern border, my mind keeps circling back to Luna. To the way she paled during the meeting, one hand pressed to her stomach. I’d kill to never see that fear and discomfort on her face ever again.

Focus. The territory needs its Alpha’s full attention. It doesn’t need him distracted—not even if it’s by her.

We reach the border markers at a steady lope, eight wolves spread out in standard patrol formation. The forest feels wrong somehow today—too quiet, the usual wildlife sounds muted. Even the air carries some strange wrongness I’m not magically attuned enough to put my finger on.

A howl splits the air—James, on point position.Intruders,the sound conveys.

My wolf takes full control as we charge toward his position. The corrupted magic grows stronger, making my fur stand on end. Through the trees, I catch flickers of movement—dark shapes that don't belong in our territory.

Then everything explodes into chaos.

They hit us from three sides—massive black wolves with eyes that glow an unnatural red. Cheslem Pack raiders, carrying that same corrupted magic we found in the herb bundle. My team responds instantly, years of training taking over.

I take the largest one head-on, meeting his charge with fangs and fury. He's strong—Alpha strong, and huge, even bigger than me in my Shift—but there's something wrong about how he moves. I can see something flickering at his edges somehow, wrong and sharp like a bad chord.

We clash in a fury of teeth and claws. His fangs catch my shoulder but can't penetrate the thick fur there. I get a grip on his throat, tasting that wrongness in his blood as my teeth break flesh. I get a mouthful of bunched skin and, reiterate my grip and feel my teeth puncture something soft and bloody. He thrashes, unnaturally strong, but I hold on.

Around us, the fight rages. Thomas takes down a smaller raider with clinical efficiency. James and two others have a third cornered. My instincts are braying, howling, as if urging me to sense something I haven’t yet noticed. But I can’t tell what it is they want me to take note of.Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

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