Page 63 of Fat Sold Mate
“It's not—we're not—” I stammer, then stop, composing myself. “The situation is complicated.”
“Complicated,” Luna repeats, her tone making it clear what she thinks of this assessment. “Is that what they’re calling it?”
“It’s certainly one word for it,” I mutter, remembering the cave, the motel room, the way James's hands felt against my skin. The bond pulses between us even now, carrying echoes of his presence from somewhere else in the pack house.
Luna's expression softens. “Ruby, I love you to death. But we don’t lie to each other. I’m starting to believe we’re a bit incapable of it, at this point.”
“That's not—” I begin, then sigh, suddenly too tired for pretense. “The choice was taken from us. And… and emotions were high. And, really, God knows if he even wants me. And there's still the issue of what I overheard.”
“What exactly did you hear?” Luna asks, her voice gentle but insistent.
I tell her about that day months ago—the laughter, the cruel words about someone's size that I'd assumed were about me, the way I'd withdrawn before James could reject me outright. As I speak, Luna's expression shifts from concern to confusion to something like exasperation.
“And you never actually confronted him about this?” she asks when I finish.
“Why would I? To have him confirm what I already knew? That, despite whatever was growing between us, when he was with his friends, I was still just the fat outcast witch?”
Luna pinches the bridge of her nose. “Ruby, did it never occur to you that he might have been talking about something else entirely?”
“Like what?” I demand, defensive heat rising in my chest. “It was pretty clear—”
Before she can answer, a sharp knock interrupts us. Nic appears in the doorway, his expression grim.
“We need you both,” he says without preamble. “The Cheslem captive is awake. He's asking for Sera.”
My stomach drops. “Nic, about Sera—”
“I know,” he cuts me off. “James explained. But this kid seems to think she's alive, and he's our best source of information right now. We need to handle this carefully.”
Luna rises with awkward grace, one hand supporting her lower back. “The ritual can wait an hour. Let's see what he knows.”
The pack's makeshift holding cell is actually a converted storage room in the basement, reinforced with mountain ash and silver—precautions against shifter strength and magic alike. The young man inside looks barely twenty, with hollow cheeks and dark circles beneath eyes that hold too much knowledge for his age. Black veins crawl across his neck and disappear beneath his collar, but his gaze is clear, unclouded by the madness that affects fully corrupted wolves.
“This is Caleb,” Nick introduces him as we enter. “He was captured three days ago attempting to cross our northern border. According to him, he was looking for Sera.”
At the mention of her name, Caleb surges forward, stopped only by the chains binding him to the wall—a necessary precaution given the corruption flowing through his veins.
“You know her,” he says, eyes locking on me with unnerving intensity. “I can smell her on you.”
I swallow hard, glancing at Nic, who nods almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” I confirm softly. “I know Sera.”
“Where is she?” Caleb demands, desperation sharpening his words. “She said she found a way to fight the corruption. Said her grandmother's journal—”
“Caleb,” I interrupt, the weight of what I must tell him settling in my chest like stone. “Sera's dead. She sacrificed herself to save us from Petra.”
The young man goes utterly still, disbelief etched across his features.
“No,” he whispers. “She can't be. She was the strongest of us. The smartest.”
“She was brave,” I agree, stepping closer despite Nic's warning hand on my arm. “She gave her life to ensure we brought her grandmother's journal here. To give others like you a chance.”
Caleb's head drops, shoulders shaking with silent grief. When he looks up again, his eyes shine with unshed tears and something harder—determination, perhaps, or vengeance.
“Then it can't be for nothing,” he says hoarsely. “What she did. What she gave.”
“It won't be,” Luna promises, her voice gentle but firm. “We have her grandmother’s journal. We think we can reverse the corruption.”
Hope flickers across Caleb's face, quickly tempered by caution. “If that's true, you need to hurry. Matthias is planning something bigger than just this siege.”
