Page 9 of Fat Forced Mate

"Can't believe they included her in the lottery..."

"Probably used magic to rig it..."

My wolf snarls at the whispers, wanting to silence every voice that dares criticize her. The urge to defend her wars with the need to maintain my professional, authoritative distance. I grip the arms of my chair hard enough to make the wood creak, forcing calm. Luna finds a spot near the back, beside that human bookstore owner she used to be friends with. Ruby something. At least she has one ally here, even if that ally is almost as sneered upon as her.

I watch her through Victoria's opening speech, unable to keep my eyes away. The sunlight streaming through the stained glass catches in her hair, creating a halo effect that makes my chest ache. She stands perfectly still, but I can sense the magic humming beneath her skin. My wolf remembers how that magic felt during our intimate moments—wild and passionate,responding to his energy in ways that defied pack lore about hybrids being less powerful.

"These trials will test not just physical strength," Victoria continues, her voice distant in my ears. I'm too busy noticing how Luna's dress rises slightly when she breathes, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of calf. "But loyalty, wisdom, and spiritual connection to pack and territory. As it has been since the first wolves claimed this land—"

"Excuse me." Luna's voice cuts through the formal speech like honey over gravel. Heads turn, shocked at the interruption. Even now, she has the power to command attention effortlessly, though I’m not sure she even realizes that about herself. "I have a question about the obligations to be entered."

My wolf preens at her boldness, even as my conscious mind rebels.No. Don’t put a target on your back, Luna. We both know they’ll rip you apart.

Victoria's eyebrow rises. "Yes?"

"The old laws state that entry is determined by 'dedication to pack values and bloodline purity.’" The words roll off her tongue with careful precision. She's practiced this, I realize. Planned her challenge carefully. "Given that several candidates, myself included, come from mixed magical heritage, surely our exclusion would make more sense? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if one of us was to be drawn, it wouldn’t help matters in that regard.”

When she’s finished speaking, she raises her chin, eyes intent and clear.

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. She's right, though her motives are obvious. She’s not trying to hide her position as a worm trying to wriggle off a hook. But challenging us publicly, in front of the whole pack...

"The interpretation of pack law evolves with time," I find myself saying, drawing every eye in the room. Including hers. Our gazes lock, and electricity crackles through the air. The blue of her dress makes her eyes seem impossibly green, like sunlight through spring leaves. "The lottery’s decision can indicate unlikely solutions to our present problems—that’s what it’s there for. It’s true that blood purity is a pack concern, but old law decrees the inclusion of all of those eligible, and if a non-Shifter were to be drawn, compliance would be trusted to yield favorable results for the pack.”

They trust the lottery,I would say, if we were alone.The elders trust that it will choose someone worthy. And they think it’ll avoid you at all costs.

Something flickers across her face—surprise? Faint approval, respect? Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, I'm lost in memories of how those lips felt against mine, how she used to whimper my name when I...

I force the thoughts down. She quickly looks away, but not before I catch a hint of vulnerability beneath her confident facade.

Victoria watches this exchange with knowing, slightly critical eyes. Has she guessed how much Luna still affects me? How hard it is to maintain my Alpha composure when all I want to do is cross the room and claim what my wolf still considers ours?

"Indeed," my grandmother says, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Which is why certain... adjustments have been made to the traditional trials, though the trials will proceed nonetheless, as they did fifty years ago. These are uncertain times. Dark forces gather at our borders. We cannot afford to cling to old prejudices."

More murmurs. Victoria rarely speaks so directly of threats, and I find myself unhappy that she’s done so without consulting me first. I catch Thomas's eye across the room, seeing my own concern reflected there. What does she know that she's not telling us, and why is she speaking about this without my approval?

The meeting continues, but that thick tension of before still hangs heavy in the air. I barely register the rest of the proceedings, too aware of Luna's presence, of every small movement she makes. When she shifts her weight, the dress pulls tight across her hips. When she runs a hand through her hair, my wolf remembers how that hair felt spread across my pillows. When she licks her lips nervously, I have to grip my chair to stay seated.

Stop torturing yourself,I think. But I can't help imagining how easy it would be to pull her into one of the private council rooms, to press her against the wall and taste her again. To see if she still makes those soft gasping sounds when I kiss her neck. To find out if her magic still explodes when she comes...

Finally, Victoria concludes the formal announcements. The pack begins to disperse, breaking into small groups to discuss the revelations. Luna turns to leave with her friend, but I'm moving before I can stop myself, Alpha dignity be damned.

"Luna." My voice freezes her mid-step. Even saying her name feels dangerous, like striking a match near gunpowder. "A word?"

Ruby squeezes her arm and slips away, leaving us alone in the rapidly emptying hall. Luna turns slowly, and the sight of her up close nearly stops my breath. Her scent surrounds me—lavender and sage and woman, with an undertone of arousal shecan't quite hide. My wolf goes crazy, recognizing that scent from countless secret meetings.

"Alpha." Her voice carries just a hint of mockery.

The formal title stings more than it should. "I think we're past that, don't you?"

"Are we? You made the boundaries pretty clear last time we spoke. And it’s new. It still doesn’t look like you’re used to the title." Her voice is steady, but magic crackles around her like static electricity. The power of it calls to my wolf, making him strain against my control. "What do you want, Nic?"

What do I want? To apologize. To explain. To pull her into my arms and never let go. To peel that blue dress off slowly, rediscovering every curve I was stupid enough to give up. My wolf howls agreement, pushing against my control. She's so close, close enough to touch. Close enough to see the faint freckles across her nose that I used to kiss, the tiny scar above her eyebrow from a childhood fall, the pulse beating rapidly in her throat.

"You've changed," I say instead, hating how rough my voice sounds.

"That's what happens when you have to rebuild your life from scratch." Her hands clench at her sides. The movement draws my attention to her fingers, and my wolf remembers how those hands felt dragging down his back, leaving marks we wore proudly. "Was that all?"

"Luna, about what happened—"

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