Page 6 of Fat Sold Mate
Sleep finally claims me, but my dreams are haunted by amber eyes that match my own and the phantom sensation of a kiss that tasted like possibilities.
Chapter 2 - James
The Alpha’s office smells of old wood, leather, and the faint trace of pine that clings to Nic's clothes after his morning patrol. Beneath it, the faint old scent of cigars—Nic’s father was partial to them—runs beneath. I drum my fingers against the mahogany table between us, struggling to focus on the security blueprints spread before us. Afternoon light streams through tall windows, catching dust motes that dance in golden suspension, but all I can think about is the ceremony looming just eight or nine perilously short hours away.
“We'll station four guards here,” Nic says, tapping the map where the path to the Hollow opens to the main road. His voice carries the weight of command that's become more pronounced since the attack. “And another six along the perimeter.”
Thomas leans forward, his dark brows furrowed. “Seems excessive for a lottery ceremony. It's not like we're expecting trouble.”
“We weren't expecting trouble last time either,” I remind him, my voice sharper than intended. The memory of gunfire and screams during the League’s attack two months ago still wakes me at night, though I'd never admit it.
Nic's gray eyes meet mine, understanding passing between us. “Better paranoid than dead.”
“Or worse—mated to someone you can't stand,” Thomas adds with a slight smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Who knows—maybe an attack would make James feel better, at this point.”
He's trying for levity, but the joke falls flat in the tense room.
I push away from the table, restless energy coursing through my veins. My wolf paces beneath my skin, as anxious as I am about tonight. “Can we just acknowledge how fucked up this is? Choosing mates by lottery?”
“It worked for me and Luna,” Nic says quietly.
“And for me and Fiona,” Thomas adds.
“That's pure luck,” I counter, turning to face them. “Two success stories don't justify continuing an archaic tradition.”
Nic sighs, the sound heavy with the responsibility he carries. “The elders voted. I was outnumbered. You weren’t full of complaints on my behalf when it wasme,asshole.”
“You're the Alpha,” I remind him. “You could have overruled them.”
“And start my leadership by alienating half the pack?” He shakes his head. “We needed unity then, and we especially need unity right now, James. The League attack showed us how vulnerable we are.”
I know he's right, but it doesn't make the knot in my stomach any looser. “So, I just smile and go along with it? Let some random drawing determine who I spend my life with?”
Thomas claps a hand on my shoulder. “Look at it this way—at least they've removed the trials part. Just a simple matching ceremony now.”
“Because that makes it so much better,” I mutter, shrugging off his hand. “All the quicker to send me off with someone I probably barely know.”
Nic rolls up the blueprints, his movements precise and controlled. “The ceremony starts at seven. I need you both there by six to do a final security sweep.”
“Fine,” I concede, knowing further argument is pointless. “But I'm on record as saying this is a mistake.”
“Duly noted,” Nic says dryly. “Now go get some air, work off some energy. You're making my wolf twitchy.”
I don't need to be told twice. The confines of this room, where I usually feel so comfortable, suddenly feel suffocating, and I stride out into the hallway, ignoring the curious glances from pack members I pass. The Pack Building—a grand structure of stone and timber at the heart of Silvercreek—bustles with activity as preparations for tonight's ceremony continue.
Outside, the late August heat hits me like a wall. Sweat immediately beads on my forehead as I cut across the lawn, heading toward town without a clear destination in mind. Just away. Anywhere that isn't filled with lottery talk and pitying glances.
Silvercreek's town square is alive with weekend activity. The farmers' market sprawls across the cobblestones, colorful canopies billowing in the slight breeze. The few humans of our pack and our shifter majority mingle. Somehow, bigoted humans didn’t take that from us.
I weave through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces while avoiding conversation. The last thing I need is another well-meaning pack member asking if I'm “excited” about tonight. As if having my future decided by a random drawing is something to look forward to.
That's when I see her.
Ruby stands at a produce stall across the square, examining tomatoes with careful attention. Sunlight catches in her dark hair, revealing hidden strands of copper. She wears a simple blue sundress that hugs the generous curves I once held against me as we kissed—once,once—and the memory of howperfectly she fit in my arms sends a surge of heat through my body.
My wolf rises immediately, pressing against my consciousness with sudden, intense interest.Ours, he insists, though I've repeatedly told him otherwise. Whatever was building between Ruby and me died two months ago when she abruptly shut me out without explanation.
Still, I can't help watching her. The easy way she smiles at the vendor—Mrs. Chen, one of the few pack members who's always been kind to her. The graceful movement of her hands as she selects her purchases. The slight tilt of her head exposes the curve of her neck.
