Page 26 of Fat Sold Mate
“Is that really what you want?” He sounds genuinely surprised, which only fuels my anger.
“Of course it’s what I want!” I push away from the table, needing distance from his scrutiny. “I never wanted to be forced to be your mate in the first place—at least now there might be some way out of it—”
“There isn’t, I know those laws—”
“I can at least try!” I find myself shouting. “I can try to get away from you!”
James stands too, his frustration pulsing through the bond like static electricity. “That's not fair.”
“None of this is fair!” My voice rises despite my efforts to maintain control. “None of this is what either of us wanted. But you got the last call.Yougot us here. You took my choice away, don’t talk to me about fairness—”
“So you think running into danger will fix it? You think it’ll give you your choice back?” James shakes his head. “That's not bravery, Ruby. That's recklessness.”
“It's a responsibility,” I insist. “To the pack. To Luna and Fiona. To everyone we care about.”
“Don’t act like you care about Silvercreek—”
“I care about Luna,” I insist, because it’s true. “I want her to be safe, and Fiona, and—and Maggie,” I finish pathetically, because she’s the only other friend I have there.
James doesn’t soften to this. He gestures between us. “Like it or not, we're bonded now. What happens to one happens to both.”
The reminder sends a cold shiver down my spine. “All the more reason to face this together, with our pack behind us.”
James opens his mouth to argue further when his phone buzzes on the counter. He grabs it, brow furrowing as he reads the message.
“What?” I ask, an inexplicable dread settling in my stomach. “What is it?”
He looks up, all color drained from his face. “It's Nic. The pack borders have been compromised at three points. They're already evacuating elderly and young shifters. He says it's not safe to return for the foreseeable future.”
My legs suddenly go weak, and I sink back into my chair. “Let me see.”
James hands me the phone, his fingers brushing mine briefly. The contact sends a jolt through the bond, but I ignore it, focusing on the text message:
BORDERS COMPROMISED 3 POINTS. EVACUATION UNDERWAY FOR VULNERABLE PACK MEMBERS. LUNA IS WORKING ON THE WARDS, BUT CHESLEM'S MAGIC IS STRONGER THAN ANTICIPATED. DO NOT RETURN. REPEAT: DO NOT RETURN. WILL UPDATE WHEN SAFE. STAY HIDDEN.
“This can't be happening,” I whisper, reading the message twice more. “Not again. Not after the League attack.”
“Check your phone,” James suggests, his voice tight with controlled fear. “See if Luna's reached out.”
I fumble for my phone, still in the pocket of my jeans from yesterday. The screen remains stubbornly empty—no signal this far into the mountains.
“Nothing,” I say, frustration mounting. “I can't reach anyone.”
James takes his phone back, typing rapidly. “I'm asking for more details.”
We wait in tense silence, but no response comes. James tries calling, the phone pressed to his ear as he paces the small confines of the cabin.
“Voicemail,” he reports grimly. “Network's probably overwhelmed with everyone trying to coordinate evacuation.”
The word hangs heavy between us. Evacuation. Silvercreek, emptying of its most vulnerable members, while those who can fight stay behind to defend territory that's been ours for generations.
“We have to go back,” I say, certainty solidifying in my chest. “They need us, James. All hands on deck.”
“Did you not read the message?” He gestures at his phone. “Nic explicitly said not to return.”
“You’re his head of security, his enforcer,” I argue. “There’s a reason Petra and the others wanted to kill you, they know you’d get in the way—”
“That won't matter if we get ourselves killed trying to get back!”
