Page 11 of Forced Plus-Size Mate

Am I being selfish? Am I going after her because I think that’s what she needs, or just to assuage my guilt?

The conflict rages in my chest as I keep staring into the absolute darkness of the forest. I want to do the right thing—for her. I’ve hurt her too much to do it again, especially if my motivesareentirely selfish.

It doesn’t matter. I can’t stop myself, I just can’t!

I tear off my clothes and shift, racing into the forest. Lifting my nose high, I catch the scent and follow it, the thick, lovely sweetness completely overwhelming my senses. Racing faster and faster, my sense of the world around me completely bleeds away. The only thing that is truly real to me is the scent of my mate.

I doubted it before. I even thought I didn’t have a mate at all. But every day without her has been pure torture, and no woman has ever captured me the way she does. She’s the only one I’ll ever love.

The soul of my wolf agrees so wholeheartedly that a great howl rises in my chest and pours out of my throat, a sound of triumph, love, and hope. Further up the mountains, I hear the howl returned to me, an echo of shared joy from other members of the pack.

They don’t know what I’m howling about, only that I’m announcing my happiness and freedom to the mountain and they share it.

Hopefully, my next chest-ripping howl isn’t one of melancholy and pain.

Suddenly, the scent hits me again, even more strongly. It’s fresh and thick, like someone taking a cake out of the oven right in front of me. My tongue lolls out of my mouth to soak it up, and I slow down so I can pace the tree line without being seen.

In the center of the circle, thirteen witches sit in a circle around Lucy. They seem to be arguing, but I can’t quite makeout the words. I prick up my keen ears, but too many of them are talking at once. All I can pick up for sure is that they are all angry and scared.

Except Lucy. She’s rock-solid.

Where’s Amanda?

Then someone stands up, and the shock hits me like a physical blow. I stagger a little, keeping my eyes locked on her as she enters the circle to kneel across from Lucy.

The excitement makes me want to howl again, but I also have a lump in my throat. Suddenly, I’m nervous, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this unsure about anything.

Maybe I should just go. Tuck my tail between my legs and bail. Why would she want to see me again?

Even if that might be the smartest thing to do, I can’t do it. I feel like a selfish asshole… but I can’t leave.

I start to tremble a little as I focus all my senses on her. I have to soak up her scent, imprint her beautiful image on my eyes.

It’s been so long since I saw her, but I remember every single detail.

Without even realizing it, I start to creep forward. My ears and nose are focused on Amanda, every single one of my senses locked on as if I’m stalking prey. I creep slowly along, my paws softly pressing against the ground as I keep my belly low to the ground.

The girls are still arguing, and over it all, I hear Amanda’s voice becoming shrill.

I’m close to the circle when a frantic sensation seizes me. It’s an echo of the anxiety I felt on the mountain, but much moreintense. I’m being tugged towards the women by a powerful force outside myself.

Was it even my choice to come here?

The shift comes over me suddenly, my wolf dissipating and leaving my human self standing stupidly just outside the circle of witches. A light breeze teases the smoke from Lucy’s fire, drifting it towards me so it curls around my body and draws me even closer.

“Amanda…” I whisper.

She’s staring at me with her deep, sky-blue eyes. I’ve never forgotten the unique shade, the hint of green that shimmers through the iris, making me think of tropical pools ringed with white sand. Her long, thick hair falls to her waist, shaded a warm mahogany and glinting with hints of garnet.

She’s clearly grown up, but in some ways, she hasn’t changed at all. Even though she’s wrapped in a heavy coat, I can see the swell of her huge breasts, soft waist, and ample hips. Just thinking about the luscious playground under those clothes makes me hard, and my fingers twitch, begging to sink into those delicious curves again.

Memories of lying in bed wrapped around her fly through my mind, and I can feel every inch of her perfect, soft skin caressing my own as we tangle together, lost in the world that only exists between the two of us.

Her face is still round, but her cheeks are more defined, and she has a set of cute worry lines etched across her forehead. Her mouth is exactly as I remember—a sweet red bow, juicy and sweet and begging to be kissed.

When I see her lip tremble, I want to rush towards her, wrap my arms around her beautiful, soft curves, and cover herface with soft kisses. But the hint of fear in the air keeps me in my place.

Is she afraid of me?

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