Page 36 of Fat Forced Mate

Twelve tokens. Twelve people must accept help from the pack pariah.

I almost laugh at the impossibility of it.

The crowd shifts, murmurs rippling through it like wind through tall grass. I catch snatches of their whispers; it’s awaste of time,I’mnot even a wolf,it’sridiculous.I try to tune it out and fail miserably.

Still, I keep my face carefully neutral, a skill honed through years of enduring exactly this kind of scrutiny. When I dare to scan the crowd, I find Nic standing apart from the others, far back, arms crossed over his chest. Our eyes meet briefly before I look away, heart hammering. My gut twists. It’s becoming a familiar feeling.

"You may begin," Victoria announces, striking a small bronze gong that echoes across the square.

The crowd disperses immediately, leaving me alone in the center of the square. Just as they always had.

"Well," I murmur to myself, "some things never change."

I feel a flutter of magic in my fingertips—unpredictable, potent, and definitely affected by the tiny spark of life I now harbor. It’s been out of control since I woke. I clench my fist until the sensation subsides. I can't afford any magical accidents today, not when I'm already facing impossible odds.

My stomach lurches suddenly, a wave of nausea rising so quickly I have to breathe deeply through my nose to suppress it. Morning sickness. Perfect timing.

"You look like you're about to be sick," Ruby appears at my elbow, her familiar presence instantly comforting.

"Just nerves," I lie.

She raises a skeptical eyebrow but doesn't push. "So, what's the plan?"

"Start with the most difficult, I suppose." I square my shoulders, already mapping a route through town in my mind. "The bakery first."

"Marjorie?" Ruby winces. "Bold choice."

I shrug. "If I can convince her, the others might seem easy by comparison."

"That's... actually pretty smart." She squeezes my arm. "I'll be around if you need me, but—"

"I know, I have to do this alone." I attempt a smile.

"Good luck," she whispers, before melting back into what remains of the crowd.

I set off toward Main Street, my boots crunching on fallen leaves. The air smells of woodsmoke and pine, and I hear the rhythmic thunk of an axe-splitting firewood somewhere in the distance. Silvercreek preparing for winter—a season I'd planned to spend far away from here, in my snug apartment above Herbal Haven. Even the thought of it makes me want to cry now.

Instead of being cozy and safe there, far away, I'm walking toward Sweetbriar Bakery, steeling myself for the first real challenge of an undoubtedly hellish day.

The bell above the door chimes as I enter. The rich scent of fresh bread and cinnamon envelops me, and for a moment, I'm sixteen again, working my first job, flour dusting my cheeks as I learn to shape dough under Marjorie's critical eye. Back then, it only took her three months to fire me—three months to learn I had no Shift. I still remember the day she marched me out of the door.

Behind the counter, Marjorie Swindon looks up, her lined face souring instantly when she recognizes me. Her silver hair is still pulled into the same tight bun, not a strand out of place. She hasn’t aged a day in all these years.

"We don't open for another fifteen minutes," she says, voice clipped.

"I'm not here as a customer." I keep my voice steady, though my heart is racing. "I'm here to help."

She snorts, turning back to the tray of pastries she's arranging. "Help? You've never been anything but trouble, girl."

The old hurt stings, but I push past it. "The Trial requires me to be of service to the community."

"Find someone else to bother. I don't need any half-breed witch messing up my kitchen."

I notice how she grips the edge of the counter, her knuckles white and swollen. Arthritis. I'd seen her rubbing those same joints years ago, when I worked here. They’ve always been swollen and stiff. Once upon a time, my mother might have helped her with it.

"Your arthritis looks worse," I observe quietly. "I could make you a salve that would help with the pain."

She stiffens. "I said leave.”

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