Page 69 of Fat Sold Mate
The bond between us explodes into full awareness, emotions, and sensations flowing freely between us for the first time since the cave. Her desire, her fear, her confusion—all of it pours into me as my own floods into her. There are no barriers now, no careful walls or deliberate distance. Just us, stripped to our most essential selves.
Ruby's hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as if she could crawl inside my skin. I respond by lifting her, her legs wrapping around my waist as I press her more firmly against the wall. The kiss deepens, grows wilder, teeth catching on lips, tongues meeting in desperate exploration.
Time loses meaning. There is only this—her body against mine, her heartbeat matching my own, the bond between us pulsing with shared need, shared fear, shared determination to survive what comes next.
When we finally break apart, both gasping for breath, words hover unspoken between us. I open my mouth, trying to find language for what I feel, for what this means. Ruby's finger presses against my lips, stopping whatever inadequate phrase I might have offered.
Instead, she kisses me again, softer this time, but no less intense. Her lips move to my jaw, my neck, returning to capture my mouth in another breathless exchange that renders speech impossible, unnecessary.
Every time one of us tries to speak, to put into words what's happening between us, we're drawn back together as if by magnetic force. Kisses replace conversation, touch substitutesfor declaration. Perhaps there are no words for this—for a connection that began in coercion but has grown into something neither of us fully understands or can control.
A distant howl breaks the spell—the signal that our forces are gathering for departure. Reality crashes back with brutal force. In minutes, we'll be facing Matthias and his corrupted wolves. In hours, Silvercreek's fate will be decided one way or another.
Ruby's forehead rests against mine, our breathing gradually slowing, though our hearts continue to race. The bond between us settles into something stronger than before, more solid, as if our physical connection has reinforced what magic began.
Still without speaking, she bends to gather the fallen books and pouches. I help her, our hands brushing with electric awareness that hasn't diminished despite the interruption. When everything is collected, we stand facing each other in the darkening hallway, the moment suspended between us like a held breath.
She steps forward, rises on tiptoe to press one last, gentle kiss to my lips. Then she's gone, moving with renewed purpose toward the main hall where our pack awaits.
I follow moments later, the taste of her still on my lips, the bond between us humming with shared strength, shared purpose. Whatever words remain unspoken between us—whatever truths, confessions, or promises—will have to wait.
First, we survive the night. First, we save our pack.
Then, perhaps, we find the words for what we've become to each other.
Chapter 27 - Ruby
The forest whispers warnings as we move through its shadows. Ancient trees loom overhead, their branches weaving patterns against the star-strewn sky, the full moon a watchful eye illuminating our path. Fifty Silvercreek wolves move as one entity, breath synchronized, footsteps carefully placed on soft earth. The bond thrumming between James and me has become a tangible force, a tether I could follow blindfolded through the darkness.
We're close now. I feel the ritual site before I see it—a sickening pulse of wrongness that makes my stomach clench and my magic recoil. Dark energy radiates from somewhere ahead, tainting the natural flows of power that usually course through the forest like underground streams.
“There,” James whispers, pointing to a faint glow visible through the trees.
Nic signals a halt, gathering our lead fighters in a tight circle. His voice is barely audible, even to shifter hearing. “Thomas, take your team west. Create enough chaos to draw their outer guards away. Ethan, east flank, hold position until Thomas engages. Main force with me.” His gaze finds James and me. “You two, stay centered on the ritual site. When we clear a path, move straight for Matthias.”
Simple words for what might be a suicide mission. The reality of what we're attempting settles over me like a physical weight. If we fail, Silvercreek falls. If we succeed, I'll have to channel more power than I've ever attempted, through a bond I'm still learning to navigate, to cleanse corruption that has festered for generations.
“You can do this,” James murmurs, his hand finding mine in the darkness. Through our bond flows his absolute conviction, steadying my nerves.
Thomas and his team melt into the shadows, moving to position. Minutes pass in tense silence as we wait for the signal, every sense hyperalert to the dangers lurking ahead.
When it comes, the diversion is unmistakable—howls of surprise and pain erupt from the western edge of the ritual site, followed by the distinctive sounds of combat. Nic signals forward, and our forces surge through the underbrush toward the ancient stone circle now clearly visible in the clearing ahead.
What I see stops my breath in my lungs.
The stone circle—seven megalithic pillars arranged around a central altar stone—has been corrupted by Matthias's dark magic. Black veins crawl across the ancient surfaces, pulsing with sickly light. Elder Victoria and two other Silvercreek wolves are bound to separate pillars, silver chains cutting into their flesh. Their life force visibly drains into the stones, golden threads of energy being slowly replaced by corrupted black.
And at the center stands Matthias—or what remains of him.
He's massive, half-shifted into a form that's neither fully wolf nor human but something monstrous. Corruption crawls beneath his skin like living shadows, his eyes pools of darkness that reflect no light. Power radiates from him in nauseating waves, each pulse drawing more life from the bound sacrifices.
“Now,” Nic commands, and our forces explode from the tree line.
Chaos erupts as Silvercreek wolves clash with corrupted Cheslem defenders. The night fills with snarls, howls, and the distinctive sound of claws against flesh. James keeps pace beside me as we weave through the combat, his body a shield between me and the worst of the fighting.
I clutch my mother's grimoire in one hand, Sera's grandmother’s journal in the other, the ritual components secured in the satchel at my hip. Every step closer to the center of the circle intensifies the wrongness in the air, magic that should feel natural and flowing instead congealed and putrid.
Nic reaches Matthias first, shifting mid-leap into his massive black wolf form. They collide with earth-shaking force, Matthias barely staggering despite Nic's considerable strength. James joins the assault seconds later, his russet fur a blur as he circles, looking for an opening.
