Page 35 of Fat Forced Mate

The thought costs me. My opponent twists impossibly, spine bending at an angle that should break it, and his back claws rake down my flank. Pain explodes through me, but the conscious part of my mind barely registers it, too focused on my task.

I slam the Alpha into a tree hard enough to crack bark. He yelps—the first normal wolf sound he's made—and crumples.

But instead of staying down, his body begins to... change. Not the clean Shift of a normal wolf returning to human form, but something grotesque. His fur seems to melt into shadow.

Wrong,my wolf snarls.Corrupted. Tainted.

Before I can close for the killing blow, all three raiders disengage at some silent signal. They melt into the shadows between trees, leaving behind that taste of corruption andwrongness. James starts to give chase, but I call him back with a sharp bark.

Something about this feels staged. Like they wanted us to see what they've become. What their corruption can do. This wasn’t an attack, some part of me knows—it was a show of force.

I shift back to human form, ignoring the sting of claw marks across my ribs, and press a hand to my bleeding midriff, holding back a wince. "Report."

"Three raiders," Thomas summarizes, already wrapping a field bandage around his arm, then tossing the roll to me. "Cheslem Pack by their scent, but... changed. Corrupted."

"Fucked up," James adds eloquently. "That magic was… wrong. We need to talk to the Elders, and soon.”

The memory of Victoria's careful revelations hits fresh. The protectors who died maintaining our wards. The way she danced around certain details.

And Luna. Even in the aftermath of battle, my mind circles back to her. If the Cheslem wolves attacked us with all their force, would she be safe? Would I be able to keep her tucked away somewhere safe, somewhere hidden, until I could return to her? Would she even allow that? Gods know she’s probably still desperate to get out of here. At our first distraction, she might just disappear. The mere thought of it makes me want to kill someone.

Get it together, Alpha.But still, my wolf whines, wanting to run back to the pack house. To check on her. To figure out what's different about her scent. To—

"Alpha?" Thomas's voice breaks through my distraction. "Orders?"

I force myself to focus on the immediate threat. "Double our existing patrols—all of our volunteers, I want everyone chipping in as much as possible. I want eyes on every inch of our borders. And send word to neighboring packs—they need to know the Cheslem Pack is using corrupted magic. We’ll speak to the Elders, figure out all we can about their last appearance. We’ll figure this out.”

But even as I give the orders and issue reassurances, even as we begin the careful process of documenting the attack scene, my mind keeps drifting. I hate how flighty my thoughts are, how unfocused and fuzzy I am. I hate that she has this power over me even when she’s not here.

My wolf paces restlessly, torn between territory protection and the urge to seek her out. To press her against another convenient surface and taste her gasps. To figure out what's different about her scent. To finish what we started that day by Shadow Creek...

***

The trek back to pack territory gives me too much time to think. My wolf's blood still runs hot from the fight, making every sensation sharper. The forest around us feels alive with memory—especially as we pass near Shadow Creek, where Luna's scent still lingers even weeks after our encounter, though I can’t tell to what extent I’m imagining it.

"Nic?" Thomas's voice breaks through the beginnings of a dangerously vivid flashback. "You're bleeding through the bandage."

I glance down at my side, where the raider's claws caught me. The wounds are already healing—one advantage of being apowerful shifter—but they sting, and I can see and smell my own blood, a nauseating reminder of my own weakness.

"I'm fine." But I'm not. He can see it, and so I can I. Thomas and James, of all people, can tell I’m cracking, have likely known it for days, weeks, maybe even all the years since she left. They know me better than I know myself.

But it’s getting worse. This morning was the first time I've seen real fear in her eyes since she returned. Not the defensive wariness she usually shows around pack members, but genuine terror at something I couldn't identify.

"You're thinking about her again," James observes as we reach the pack house grounds.

I don't bother denying it. "Something's different about her."

"Maybe she's just nervous about tomorrow's trial." But he doesn't sound convinced.

I hum. I’m not convinced, either. But whatever it is, a bitter, jaded, hungry part of me knows she won’t share it. Not with me. Not until I earn her trust—something I’m becoming increasingly convinced I’ll never manage to do again.

Chapter 15 - Luna

"The Trial of Unity is a test of community," Elder Victoria's voice carries across the town square, where the morning mist still clings to cobblestones slick with dew. "Since the dawn of our Pack, those who would help lead it must prove they can unite it."

I stand in the center of the gathering, feeling dozens of pairs of eyes boring into me. The early sunlight paints everything in pale gold, but does nothing to warm the chill that has settled into my bones since yesterday's discovery. My hand instinctively moves toward my abdomen before I catch myself, forcing it back to my side.

Victoria continues, "Luna Morgan must earn trust tokens from twelve pack members before sunset. These can only be obtained through genuine service to our community."

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