Page 6 of Fat Forced Mate

"The Morgan girl—yeah, James Morgan’s little sister..."

"Can't believe they included her in the lottery..."

"The Alpha can't possibly..."

My wolf growls, wanting to silence every whisper, every doubt. Instead, I straighten my shoulders and keep walking. Let them talk. Let them worry. The lottery will choose my fate—our fate—and even I don't have the power to change that. Luna means less than nothing in the face of the sheer weight of responsibility, history, and tradition.

Cool autumn air hits my face as I exit the building, carrying with it a thousand scents—pine needles, fallen leaves, pack members, the faint magic of our boundaries. And underneath it all, that thread of scent and spellwork I've never quite managed to forget.

Welcome home, Luna Morgan. Gods help us all.

Chapter 3 - Luna

The bell above The Mystic Page chimes softly as I push open the door, unleashing a flood of memories. The bookstore smells exactly as I remember—old paper, Earl Grey tea, and the subtle hint of cinnamon that always clings to Ruby. Late morning sunlight streams through the tall windows, catching dust motes dancing between towering shelves. Even the ancient floorboards creak in familiar patterns under my feet.

"We're not quite open yet!" Ruby's voice calls from somewhere in the stacks. "Give me just a—" She emerges from behind a shelf of leather-bound grimoires and freezes, dark eyes widening. "Luna?"

I manage a weak smile. "Surprise?"

All five-foot-three of Ruby Mulligan launches herself at me with a squeal that would scandalize her usual scholarly customers. We collide in a tangle of limbs and laughter, and for a moment, I'm eighteen again, seeking refuge from pack politics in my best friend's domain.

"You absolute witch!" She pulls back to study my face, her own alight with joy. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I had to hear it from Mrs. Peterson at the grocery store, of all people, and she only knew because her nephew's on border patrol and, and I was half-convinced you wouldn’t even come, that you’d try to run—" She stops, realization darkening her expression. "The lottery. They're making you participate."

I nod, throat tight. Ruby's arm slides around my waist, guiding me toward the back of the store where her private reading nook waits. Nothing has changed here either—the same overstuffed armchairs, the eternally steaming teapot, the wall of rare books Ruby won't sell at any price. It was our sanctuarysince high school, when this place belonged to Ruby’s late mother, when we bonded over being the pack's eternal outsiders—me the hybrid who couldn't shift, her the human-born who could never quite fit in despite her strategic brilliance and her family’s long-established presence among the magical.

"Talk to me," she says, pressing a cup of tea into my hands. The familiar blend of chamomile and valerian soothes my frayed nerves. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm..." The words stick in my throat. "I don't know. Everything here feels both exactly the same and completely different. Does that make sense?"

Ruby settles into her chair, tucking her feet under her. Time has been kind to her—her black hair might be shorter now, styled in a sophisticated bob, but her face still holds the same quiet intelligence I remember. "A lot has changed since you left. Especially after Old Alpha Blackwood's death."

My hands tighten around the teacup. "I heard about that. Heart attack, right?"

"Mm. Six months ago. Nic's been... interesting as Alpha." She studies me over her own cup. "He's trying to modernize things. Challenging some of the old prejudices. Not always successfully, but he's trying. When the Council proposed this, I suspect he believed he didn’t have much of a choice."

Something in my chest twists at the mention of his name.

As if summoned by our discussion, movement catches my eye through the bookstore's back window. Nic stands at one of the pack house's high windows, his figure unmistakable even at this distance. Even after five years, I'd know those broad shoulders, that commanding stance anywhere. As if sensing my gaze, he turns slightly. Our eyes meet across the distance, and my magic surges in response, rattling the teacups.

Then he's gone, vanishing into the shadows of his office, leaving me with a racing heart and unwanted memories...

The night before, everything fell apart. Nic's cabin smells of pine and woodsmoke, with undertones of the coffee he's always drinking and the leather of his favorite armchair. Rain patters against the windows, creating a cozy cocoon of warmth and intimacy. His hands are everywhere—sliding under my shirt, tracing my curves with reverent hunger.

"Luna," he groans against my neck. "My Luna."

"Someone will notice I'm gone," I whisper, even as I arch into his touch. We've been careful these past three months, meeting in secret spots in the forest, stealing moments between his Alpha training sessions. But this is different. Riskier. Being in his cabin feels like a declaration.

"Let them notice." His voice is rough with need. His wolf is close to the surface, eyes glowing amber as he pulls back to study my face. Rain has darkened his black hair, and firelight plays across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. "I don't want to hide anymore."

Hope blooms dangerous in my chest. "Nic..."

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, thumbs tracing circles on my hips. "We can wait if—"

"Yes," I breathe, and then his mouth is on mine again, desperate and claiming. We stumble toward his bed, leaving a trail of clothes in our wake. His skin burns against mine, muscle and heat and need. Every touch feels electric, my magic responding to his wolf's energy in ways I've never experienced before.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, hands mapping my curves like he's memorizing them. "Perfect. Mine." His wolfrumbles in approval as I run my fingers down his chest, tracing the muscles I've dreamed about touching.

When he finally slides into me, my magic explodes outward in a burst of pure joy, shattering a nearby lamp. The crash barely registers. Nothing exists except this moment, this connection.

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