Page 1 of Fat Arranged Mate
Chapter 1 - Sera
The scent of blood hits me first—metallic and sharp—before I register the young wolf's whimpers and remember where I am.
"You're going to be fine, Liam," I say, keeping my voice steady as I examine the deep gash running along his forearm. The training injury looks worse than it is, but it still requires careful cleaning. "This might sting a bit."
He nods bravely, though his eyes—amber flecked with gold, typical of this pack’s wolves—betray his fear. At fourteen, he's trying hard not to show weakness, especially not to someone like me. An outsider. A former Cheslem.
"What happened?" I ask, gently dabbing antiseptic along the wound edges. The medical center is quiet this afternoon, sunlight streaming through high windows onto shelves of neatly labeled herbs and medicines.
Liam winces. "Climbing exercise with the junior patrol. My hand slipped on the rock face."
"And your shift didn't trigger?" It's unusual. Pain typically activates our healing abilities.
His cheeks flush. "I... I've been having trouble with controlled shifts. Sometimes it just won’t come."
Ah. That explains it. Adolescent wolves often struggle with the balance between human and wolf forms. I remember how it feels—that internal tug-of-war, the frustration of your body refusing to obey your mind.
"That's completely normal," I assure him, reaching for suture materials. "Your body's changing, and your wolf is getting stronger. It takes time for everything to sync up."
As I work, my fingers move with practiced precision. Three months at Silvercreek's medical center has honed skills I'd only begun developing with my grandmother before—
A flash: dark walls, the smell of corruption, hands restraining me as Matthias howls commands, my grandmother's herbs burned in front of me, punishment for healing instead of hurting—
I blink hard, forcing the memory away. Not now.
"You're really good at this," Liam says, watching as I tie off the last suture.
I smile, grateful for the distraction. "Thanks. Nearly done. Just need to wrap it and you'll be set."
"Will it scar?" There's a hint of hope in his voice that makes me laugh.
"Sorry to disappoint, but probably not. Werewolf healing, remember? Once your shift stabilizes, this will fade completely."
His face falls slightly, and I bite back another laugh. Teenage boys and their battle scars—some things are universal across packs.
I'm finishing the bandage when a sound from outside catches my attention. Voices near the side window, not quite whispered.
"—shouldn't even be here. Taking one of our healing positions when we barely know what she did in that corrupted pack—"
"I heard she's gained like fifteen pounds since coming here. Eating our food, getting fat on our supplies—"
"At least the other ex-Cheslems have useful skills. What good is a half-trained healer who can barely shift?"
My hands freeze momentarily, heat rising to my cheeks. I force myself to continue wrapping Liam's bandage, pretending I haven't heard. The boy is watching me closely, his expression uncomfortable. He heard too.
I swallow hard, focusing on securing the bandage with medical tape. My body feels suddenly too large, too visible. Since coming to Silvercreek, I've gained weight—a natural consequence of regular meals and safety after years of intermittent famine and abuse. My curves, already ample before, have become more pronounced. My wolf, always smaller and weaker than most, hasn't shifted fully in weeks.
The voices continue, oblivious or uncaring that I can hear them.
"—lottery tomorrow. Can you imagine if she gets paired with someone important? Dylan deserves better than some Cheslem castoff—"
"I heard Alpha Nic is only keeping them around because of what happened with the human hunters. Once that's settled—"
A new voice cuts through the gossip, sharp and authoritative.
"If you two have nothing better to do than spread vicious rumors, I'm sure Thomas could use help reinforcing the northern perimeter fence. In the rain. For the next twelve hours."
Ruby. The familiar voice of my defender makes my shoulders relax slightly. I hear shuffling and hasty apologies before footsteps retreat quickly.
