Page 30 of Fat Sold Mate
“One problem at a time.” I shrug off my pack—a makeshift affair we assembled from supplies at the cabin before the attack. “Shelter first. There might be caves in these ridges.”
We search the rocky outcropping as twilight deepens around us, finally discovering a shallow overhang that offers minimal protection from the elements. It's better than nothing, but not by much.
“This will have to do,” Ruby says, her voice tight with frustration as she drops her own small pack. “Unless you want to sleep in the open.”
“The overhang will work,” I agree, though my wolf bristles at the inadequacy of the shelter I'm providing for my mate. It's a primal instinct I have to actively suppress. “I'll take first watch.”
Ruby doesn't argue, simply unrolls the thin emergency blanket we salvaged from the Jeep and sits with her back against the rock face. I settle at the edge of our meager shelter, eyes trained on the darkening forest below.
Night falls quickly in the mountains, stars appearing one by one in a sky untainted by artificial light. The waning moon casts just enough illumination to see by, at least for shifter eyes. Behind me, Ruby's breathing eventually deepens into sleep, her exhaustion finally overcoming her wariness.
Through our bond, I feel the moment she begins to dream—emotions fluttering erratically, too quick to interpret but tinged with fear. I resist the urge to wake her. Dreams, even frightening ones, are better than our reality right now.
The attack comes just before midnight.
A twig snaps in the forest below—too deliberate to be wildlife. My wolf surges forward, senses sharpening as I detect the unmistakable scent of Cheslem corruption on the night breeze.
“Ruby,” I whisper, already moving to wake her. “Company.”
She's instantly alert, eyes flashing in the darkness. No disorientation, no questions—just immediate understanding and readiness that makes my wolf rumble with approval.
“How many?” she asks, voice barely audible.
“Two, maybe three.” I strain my senses, cataloging the faint sounds and scents carried on the night air. “Scouts, not the main force.”
“They're still tracking us.” It's not a question.
I nod, moving to the edge of the overhang to peer into the darkness below. “They're being careful, approaching slowly. They don't know exactly where we are yet.”
Ruby appears beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as she surveys the same terrain. The casual contact sends another pulse through the bond, awareness sharpening between us.
“Options?” she asks.
“We can run or fight.” I turn to meet her gaze. “If we run, we alert them to our position. If we stay, they'll find us eventually.”
Ruby's eyes narrow in thought. “What if we separate? I move north, make noise, draw them away. You circle behind, take them out.”
“Absolutely not.” The words come out harsher than intended, my wolf bristling at the mere suggestion of her placing herself in danger. “We stay together.”
“It's tactical,” she argues. “They won't expect—”
“No.” I cut her off. “They'll kill you, Ruby. And I'll feel every second of it through this.” I gesture sharply between us, indicating the bond.
Her jaw tightens, but I sense her reluctant agreement through our connection. “Fine. Then we fight together.”
Before I can respond, a howl splits the night—a corrupted version of a wolf's call, the sound unnaturally pitched and grating. They've caught our scent.
“No more time,” I say, already pulling off my shirt, preparing to shift. “Stay behind me.”
“Like hell,” Ruby snaps, grabbing a jagged rock the size of her fist. “I can fight too.”
I don't waste breath arguing. The first Cheslem scout is already bounding up the ridge, moving with the jerky, unnatural speed of the corrupted. I shift in one fluid motion, bones cracking and reforming as my human skin gives way to russet fur.
The first scout reaches the overhang just as my transformation completes. I meet it mid-leap, my larger wolf form slamming into its corrupted body with enough force to send us both rolling across the rocky ground. Its teeth snap inches from my throat, black ichor dripping from yellowedfangs. The stench of corruption fills my nostrils, acrid and wrong.
We grapple in the moonlight, claws tearing, teeth seeking vulnerable flesh. The corrupted wolf is smaller but moves with unnatural speed, darting in and out of my reach. I feel Ruby's fear pulsing through the bond, but beneath it, a steady determination that gives me strength.
The second scout appears at the edge of the clearing, its attention fixed on Ruby. Panic surges through me as it charges toward her, but I'm locked in combat with the first, unable to intercede.
