Page 41 of Fat Sold Mate
“There are at least three of them,” she argues, “and one of you. Those aren't odds I like.”
“I can handle three corrupted scouts,” I say, bristling at the implied doubt in my abilities.
Ruby steps closer, close enough that I can see the faint freckles across her nose, smell the wild herbs and paper scent of her skin. “You barely handled one the other night. And that was with my help.”
The reminder stings more than it should. “This is different. I'll have the element of surprise on my side.”
“And what if there are more than three?” she challenges. “What if they're expecting an ambush? What if—”
“What if we just hide and hope they go away?” I interrupt, frustration boiling over. “Is that your plan? Because it's not a plan, Ruby. It's a prayer.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Don't patronize me, James. I survived just fine before you came along.”
“And now we're bonded,” I snap, gesturing sharply between us. “Which means if you die, I feel every second of it. So forgive me for wanting to be proactive.”
The mention of our bond shifts the tension between us, transforming it into something more complicated than simple disagreement. Ruby's gaze drops briefly to my mouth before she catches herself, taking a deliberate step back.
“We should be smart about this,” she says, her voice softer now but no less stubborn. “Use Sera's knowledge. Use the wards around the cabin. Maybe even try my grimoire—”
“Your spells don't work,” I say, instantly regretting the words as hurt flashes across her face.
“Screw you, James,” she says quietly, the calm delivery somehow worse than if she'd shouted.
“Ruby, I didn't mean—”
“Save it,” she cuts me off. “Go be a hero if you want. Get yourself killed. See if I care.”
She turns to leave, but I catch her wrist before she can take a step. The contact sends a jolt through the bond, awareness crackling between us like static electricity. Her pulse races beneath my fingers, matching the sudden acceleration of my own heart.
“Let go,” she says, but makes no move to pull away.
“I'm trying to protect you,” I say, my voice rougher than intended.
“I don't need your protection,” she replies, finally meeting my eyes again. “I need you not to die and leave me alone out here.”
The admission hangs between us, its implications too dangerous to examine closely. I release her wrist, but the sensation of her skin against mine lingers like a brand.
Before either of us can speak again, a crash from the direction of the cabin shatters the moment. We turn in unison to see Sera sprinting toward us, panic evident in every line of her body.
“They're coming,” she gasps, reaching us with surprising speed for someone still recovering from injuries. “From the north. Three scouts, just like you said.”
“How close?” I demand, instantly alert.
“Too close,” Sera replies, her breathing ragged. “Maybe half a mile. Moving fast.”
Ruby and I exchange glances, our earlier argument temporarily forgotten in the face of immediate danger.
“We need to get back to the cabin,” Ruby says. “Now.”
I hesitate, torn between the strategy I believe will work and the need to keep them safe. “The ambush—”
“There's no time,” Sera interjects. “And they're moving in formation. Like they know exactly where we are.”
That decides it. “Back to the cabin,” I agree reluctantly. “We'll use the wards, whatever defenses we can muster.”
We move quickly through the darkening forest, the last light of day fading rapidly between the trees. At the cabin, Ruby immediately retrieves her grimoire, flipping through pages with desperate focus while Sera arranges her grandmother's herbs in patterns that make no sense to my untrained eye.
“What can I do?” I ask, hating the feeling of uselessness as they work with tools I don't understand.
