Page 18 of Fat Sold Mate
“Please.”
Reluctantly, she meets my gaze, her amber eyes swimming with a complex mix of emotions—anger, fear, humiliation, and something deeper I can't decipher.
“I don't want to own you,” I say, willing her to believe me. “That's not what this is about.”
“Then what is it about?” she demands.
“Survival,” I answer simply. “Getting us both out of here alive. Whatever happens after, we'll figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” She laughs, the sound brittle. “How to dissolve a mate bond that can't be broken? How to explain that the Alpha's right hand is tied to the pack reject through coercion?”
“Stop calling yourself that,” I say sharply.
“What, the truth?” Her voice cracks slightly. “The pack has made it clear what they think of me my entire life. The lottery didn't change that. This won't either.”
I want to argue, to tell her she's wrong, but there's too much truth in her words. Silvercreek hasn't been kind to Ruby Mulligan.
“I’m sorry,” I say instead. “I am. But I—I’m not changing my mind on this.”
Ruby's eyes narrow. “You don’t care that it should be my choice? What if I’d rather stay thanbelongto you?”
I wince, but stand my ground. “Yes.
Her shoulders rise, eyes flashing with fury. “You can’t do this—”
“I can,” I snap. “I can, and I will. I won’t leave you here.”
“It should be my choice—”
“But it isn’t,” I cut in, shocked at the coldness in my own voice as I say it. “It isn’t, Ruby.”
A knock at the door interrupts whatever she might have said. Petra's voice calls through the wood: “Time's up, lovebirds.”
Ruby's face pales, her momentary relief vanishing. “James, please,” she whispers. “There has to be another way.”
I wish I could give her what she wants. Wish I could find another solution that doesn't require this sacrifice of her dignity, her autonomy. But looking at her—the bruise darkening on her cheekbone, the dried blood on her temple, the fear she's trying so hard to hide—I know there's only one choice I can make.
“I'm sorry,” I say, meaning it more than she'll ever know. “But we're doing this.”
“No,” she protests, desperation edging her voice. “James, I'm begging you. Don't do this to me.”
The door opens, Petra's smug face appearing in the gap. “Decision time.”
Ruby grabs my arm, her fingers digging into my skin. “Please,” she whispers. “Please don't.”
I look down at her, steeling myself against the plea in her eyes, the tears threatening to spill over. My wolf howls in distress, hating that we're causing her pain, but firm in the conviction that this is necessary to protect her.
“It's not your choice,” I tell her, my voice low and final. “I'm not leaving you here.”
Chapter 7 - Ruby
Blood. That's what it comes down to in the end. Not love or choice or compatibility—just blood and ancient words I never consented to speak.
I stand rigid in the center of the dilapidated cabin, my pulse hammering against my throat as Petra produces a knife from her boot. Not a ceremonial blade or anything resembling ritual—just a hunting knife, utilitarian and cruel, its edge glinting in the dusty morning light filtering through cracked windows.
“Traditionally,” she explains with that terrible smile that never reaches her eyes, “this would be performed by pack Elders with witnesses and celebration.”
“How fortunate we can skip the formalities,” James says beside me, his voice flat, controlled.
