Page 53 of Rejected Plus-Size Mate

I can’t help the tears that well up in my eyes as I look up at him. “It’s my absolute pleasure,” I whisper, meaning it.

He bends down and kisses me, and I melt against him, wrapping my arms around him and giving in completely to the love that sweeps through me. I can’t let go of him now, no matter what happens. I feel fear, but also a deep, ecstatic triumph that makes my soul sing.

I love this man—and I think he loves me!

Every moment of melancholy I suffered would be worth it if I come through to the other side and know his feelings were as strong as mine the whole time.

If there is any chance of true happiness here, then I don’t care what happens. I am going to hold on to him as tightly as I can, and I’ll never let go.

Chapter 19 - Kyle

As the evening winds down, Leslie invites me to bed, and I follow her eagerly. My body and mind are still fatigued from the night before, and I know the only thing that will soothe me enough to fall asleep is holding her in my arms.

When I lie down beside her, my body relaxes immediately. I can hear the soft sounds of the night outside the window, a nocturnal melody playing behind the steady beat of her heart and the rhythm of her breath. Immersed in her scent, my arms wrapped around her soft curves, I let myself drift.

And fall straight into hell.

Like with all of my nightmares, there is no transition. I’m just suddenly in a different world. It looks like the forest, but shades of gray dominate the landscape, monochrome trees and silvery fog instead of rich green and brown. All around me, I hear bloodcurdling howls.

Leslie’s scent is strong, and I search for her through the mist. I can barely see the ground before my feet. Hot blood pounds in my temples, and my tight chest restricts my breath, making me dizzy.

The pattering of swiftly running paws comes towards me, and Leslie’s scent gets even stronger. I look up eagerly, hoping to see her face in this place and know it’s not a nightmare anymore.

Then, the figure steps out of the mist. I see her gray eyes, almost the same color as the fog around us. Her bright hair looks dull and dark. Her lovely smile is twisted into a painful frown.

“Leslie?” I whisper.

Suddenly, she’s thrown to the ground from something behind her. I rush to help her, but a savage growl nearby holds me back.

“Don’t move,” a harsh voice commands, “or she dies.”

I freeze in place, looking around for the source of the voice. Dark shapes appear all around me, solid figures remaking themselves out of shadows. As they come into clear view, I see the faces of everyone I knew in the Sawpit Pack.

“No,” I moan. “This can’t be happening.”

“But it is happening.”

Chris’s voice cracks through the air, drawing my eye back to Leslie. Chris is standing behind her, holding her on her knees with his hands on her throat.

The fear that hits me then is the most intense emotion I’ve ever experienced. Sweat breaks out all over my body, and I can’t hear anything over my blood roaring in my ears. I try to breathe, but I can’t. All I can do is stare.

“What do you want?” I finally croak. “I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, I know you will,” a cruel voice answers. I know who it is before he steps out of the mist to my right.

“Jethro,” I mutter.

He points at me and grins. “Got it in one, bro. Look at you, all alive and stuff. Got yourself a little girly and all. That’s a mighty fine effort for a dead guy.”

“Jethro, I—”

“Oh, don’t bother, kiddo. We thought you were a goner—seriously, the way you went over those falls. I should have checked for a body. I usually do. But here’s the thing, kid—I trusted you.”

“No.”

“Trusting people is not something I usually do.” Jethro’s voice turns hard. “That means I have to punish you in particularly painful ways.”

“Jethro, please. Just hurt me, I’m the one you want. Let Leslie go.”

---