Page 44 of Fat Sold Mate
We race back toward the cabin, guided by the sounds of fighting that grow louder with each step. The clearing comes into view—and my heart stops.
James stands alone, surrounded by at least five corrupted scouts. And at the edge of the clearing, watching with cold amusement, stands a woman I've only seen once before—in the abandoned cabin where I was held captive, where I was sold to my mate like property.
Petra.
“Well, well,” she calls, her voice carrying easily across the distance. “The witch-born girl returns. And with a friend.” Her gaze sharpens on Sera. “A traitorous friend.”
“You're just meat to them,” Sera calls back, her voice steady despite the fear I feel radiating from her. “All of us—just fuel for their corruption.”
Petra smiles, the expression empty of anything but cruelty. “Pretty words from a dead woman.”
She signals, and the corrupted wolves tighten their circle around James. They're playing with him, I realize—could have killed him already, but are drawing it out for Petra's amusement. Or as bait.
“What do we do?” I whisper, desperately wishing I could summon that protection spell again and somehow expand it to shield James.
Sera's hand closes around mine, her touch startlingly cold. “Get to your mate,” she says quietly. “When I create a distraction, you run to him. Get out through the western edge of the clearing—the trees are thinner there. Run and don't look back.”
“What distraction?” I ask, dread pooling in my stomach. “Sera—”
“My grandmother's counter-ritual,” she interrupts, her eyes never leaving the scene before us. “You need to find it. Complete what she started. I think—I think they must be hiding her notes somewhere. They took them before they killed her. They might be in the pack’s main headquarters. You need to find them, Ruby.”
“Sera, whatever you're planning—”
“It's already decided,” she says with a smile that breaks my heart. “I was dead the moment they forced the corruption on me. At least this way, it means something.”
Before I can stop her, she steps into the clearing, the leather pouch clutched in one hand, a lighter in the other.
“Petra!” she calls, her voice strong and clear. “Still doing Matthias's dirty work, I see. Still a loyal dog.”
Petra's attention snaps to her, eyes narrowing dangerously. “The traitor returns. Matthias will be pleased when I bring back your head.”
“You'll have to catch me first,” Sera taunts, moving deliberately away from where I hide, drawing all eyes to her defiant stance.
I see James's head turn, his wolf eyes widening as he recognizes Sera. Through our bond, I feel his confusion, his dawning horror as he realizes what she intends. He tries to break free from the circle, but the corrupted wolves close ranks, blocking his path.
“Now, Ruby!” Sera shouts, flicking the lighter and touching it to the pouch. “Run!”
The herbs catch instantly, but instead of the smoke bombs we made earlier, these erupt in violent purple flame. Sera charges directly at Petra, the burning bundle held before her like a weapon.
“No!” I scream, but it's too late.
Sera crashes into Petra, the burning herbs exploding between them in a cloud of toxic smoke. The corrupted wolves nearest them begin to writhe, howling in agony as the fumes reach their lungs. Petra shrieks, her human form contorting asshe tries to escape, but Sera holds her fast, her own body already trembling from exposure.
The chaos is immediate. James seizes the opportunity, breaking through the disoriented circle of remaining scouts toward me.
I can't tear my eyes from Sera. She looks directly at me through the spreading purple haze, her amber eyes clear and determined even as the poison works through her system. She mouths something—'run'—before collapsing atop the still-struggling Petra.
James reaches me in wolf form, nudging me hard with his muzzle, urging me to move.
“She killed herself,” I whisper, unable to process the enormity of what just happened. “For us.”
James whines, pushing more insistently against my legs. The message is clear: we need to go, now, before the remaining Cheslem wolves regroup or the poison reaches us.
With one last look at Sera's crumpled form, I turn and run.
We flee through the forest for what feels like hours, the sounds of pursuit fading behind us as James leads us on a winding, confusing path designed to throw off trackers. Eventually, we reach a series of rocky outcroppings, and James guides us to a shallow cave hidden behind a curtain of vines.
It appears to have been used by someone before, years ago. There’s a small wooden table inside, covered in old painting supplies, all dried out and cracked now. Evidently, the Cheslem wolves living near here haven’t had much time to paint since their pack became what it is now.
