Page 24 of Fat Sold Mate
Ruby doesn't flinch, though I feel the sharp spike of pain through our bond. Her endurance only adds to my guilt. When I've bandaged her hand properly, I reach for the cut on her temple, but she jerks away.
“I can do the rest myself.”
I back off, giving her space. “There's food in the pantry,” I say, changing subjects. “Canned stuff, mostly. And the shower works, if you want to clean up.”
She nods once, accepting this information without comment.
“Nic says we should stay here for a few days,” I continue, filling the silence. “The Cheslem pack has breached our borders at three points. Luna is working on strengthening the boundary wards.”
This catches her attention.
“Huh—I guess that makes sense.” There's no surprise in her voice, just a flicker of something else—perhaps envy. After all, both she and my sister share similar backgrounds: daughters of witches, though Luna's magic manifested while Ruby's remained frustratingly elusive.
“She's reinforcing our mother's wards again,” I explain. “Like she did after the attack during her lottery. The barriers need strengthening at the breach points.” “And what about the Cheslems? You think they're just going to forget about us?”
“No.” I see no point in lying. “They'll hunt us. That's why we're safer here for now, away from pack territory. They'll expect us to run straight back to Silvercreek.”
“So we're just supposed to hide? Wait?”
“Unless you have a better suggestion.”
She falls silent again, her frustration pulsing through the bond like a second heartbeat. After a moment, she stands abruptly. “I'm going to shower.”
I watch her disappear into the bathroom, the door closing with pointed precision rather than a satisfying slam. Even in anger, Ruby maintains control. It's admirable, if maddening.
Left alone, I rummage through the pantry, assembling a makeshift meal from canned soup and crackers that are only slightly stale. By the time Ruby emerges, hair damp and wearing what appears to be one of Thomas's old t-shirts found in a drawer, I've set the table with our paltry feast.
“Dinner,” I say, gesturing to the steaming bowls.
She hesitates before joining me, her movements cautious as if approaching a wild animal. We eat in silence, the only sounds the clink of spoons against ceramic and the steady drumming of rain on the roof.
Through the bond, I sense her exhaustion growing, the adrenaline of the day finally wearing off to leave bone-deep weariness in its wake. But beneath that, something else simmers—questions, uncertainties, fears she won't voice.
I open my mouth, then close it. What is there to say? Everything I might offer feels hollow against the weight of what's happened. So, we continue to eat in silence, the space between us vast despite the small table.
Ruby finishes first, setting down her spoon with careful precision. “I'm going to bed,” she announces, gathering her barely-touched dinner dishes. “It's been a long day.”
I nod, watching as she retreats to the bedroom, the door closing softly behind her. Alone again, I clear the table mechanically, my thoughts circling like birds of prey around the day's events. The bond thrums steady and insistent, carrying echoes of Ruby's emotions even through the closed door—grief, anger, confusion, and beneath it all, a bone-deep exhaustion that mirrors my own.
Hours later, stretched out on the too-small couch with rain still drumming against the windows, I stare at the ceiling and try to ignore the pull of the bond. It wants more than we'rewilling to give, this thing between us. It's like a phantom limb, aching for something I can't name, tugging me toward the closed bedroom door with invisible threads I can almost see when I close my eyes.
In the darkness, my wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, equally unsatisfied.Mate, he insists, the concept is primal and uncomplicated in his consciousness.Find a mate.
“She doesn't want that,” I whisper to the empty room. “She doesn't want us.”
But the bond pulses stubbornly, and I wonder if Ruby lies awake too, fighting the same invisible pull, building walls against the connection neither of us chose but both must now endure.
Outside, the storm rages on, wild and untamed. Inside, us two unwilling mates dream separately of freedom that might never come.
Chapter 9 - Ruby
Morning light filters through dusty windows, casting pale rectangles across the cabin floor. I've been awake for hours, staring at the wooden ceiling, counting knots in the timber to avoid thinking about the man on the other side of the door. About the invisible tether binding us together.
Sleep came fitfully, dreams tangled with memories of blood and binding words. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the bond pulse, insistent and hungry. Even now, with a closed door between us, I sense James's presence like a low-frequency hum beneath my skin.
The floorboards creak outside the bedroom. James is awake too, moving quietly in the main room. I catch the scent of coffee drifting under the door, rich and tempting despite everything.
Eventually, hunger and the need for caffeine drive me from my sanctuary. I square my shoulders, smooth down the borrowed t-shirt that hangs to mid-thigh, and push open the door.
