Page 63 of Fat Forced Mate

Nic's eyes won't meet mine. His voice, when it comes, is a stranger's. I can’t make out his words, but I know what they’re doing; they’re dismissing me. He’s throwing me away.

The pain is just as fresh in memory as it was then—a physical thing, tearing through my chest like claws. They walk out of that hall, backs burning with stares, chins lifted in defiance while tears threaten.

The memory fractures, splinters into darkness.

Then, something new—not memory but dream. A small girl with Nic's dark hair and my eyes laughs as she runs through a sun-dappled forest. Nic catches her, swinging her high as she shrieks with delight. He settles her on his hip, and they both turn to me with matching smiles.

"Mama," the girl calls, reaching for me. "Come see what we found!"

Nic's eyes are soft with love as he extends his free hand toward me. "Come on, Lu. We've been waiting for you."

The dream fades, replaced by brief flashes of reality.

Strong arms lifting me carefully, cradling me against a warm chest.

"I've got you," Nic's voice murmurs against my hair. "You're safe now."

The sensation of movement through darkness. Pain throbbing dully in my back. The steady rhythm of a heartbeat against my cheek.

"Is she...?" A worried voice—Ruby, maybe.

"She'll be fine," Nic answers, his arms tightening slightly around me. "Both of them will."

The scent of antiseptic and healing herbs. Gentle hands transferring me to a soft surface. The distant sound of urgent voices, orders being given.

"Stay with her," someone says—Victoria? "She'll need you when she wakes."

A warm hand clasping mine, anchoring me as consciousness ebbs again.

More dreams. Nic and I dancing at some nameless celebration, his hand pressed to the small of my back. Walking through Silvercreek, my rounded belly preceding me, whispers following but different now—respectful, curious. Nic kneeling before me, ear pressed to my stomach, wonder lighting his face as something moves beneath his palm.

Reality and dream blur together, indistinguishable as I float in the haze of magical exhaustion.

***

I wake slowly, awareness returning in gradual layers. First, physical sensation—soft sheets beneath me, the dull ache in my back, the heaviness of my limbs. Then sound—the quiet beep of a monitor, distant voices, someone breathing softly nearby. Finally, I register a warm pressure around my right hand—fingers intertwined with mine.

I open my eyes to a curtained enclosure bathed in soft morning light. Medical equipment stands sentinel beside the bed. I'm in the pack house infirmary, in one of the private areas at the back.

My gaze falls to my hand, following the fingers wrapped around it to their owner. Nic sits slumped in a chair besidethe bed, his head at an awkward angle that promises a stiff neck when he wakes. His face in sleep is younger somehow, the weight of Alpha responsibility temporarily lifted. Dark stubble shadows his jaw, and a white bandage peeks from beneath the collar of his rumpled shirt. There are shadows beneath his eyes that speak of long hours of wakefulness.

Something shifts in my chest at the sight—a complicated tangle of emotions I'm too tired to unravel.

My free hand moves instinctively to my stomach, a question forming that I can't quite give voice to yet. Is our child...?

As if sensing my thoughts, Nic stirs, his body tensing slightly before his eyes open. For a moment, he looks disoriented. Then his gaze finds mine, and relief washes over his features.

"Luna," he breathes, straightening in the chair. His hand tightens around mine. "You're awake."

"The baby?" My voice emerges as a rasp.

"Is fine," he answers immediately, understanding the priority of my concern. "Dr. Reynolds checked thoroughly. No damage from either the magical exertion or the... attack." A flash of something dark crosses his face at the memory. "Just make sure you rest properly now."

The tension I've been carrying in my chest eases slightly. "The pack? The wards?"

"The wards are holding strong. Whatever you did worked better than we could have hoped." Pride flickers in his eyes. "Once the Alpha fell, the rest of the Cheslem wolves either retreated or were dealt with. We lost three pack members in thefighting, and several more are injured, but it could have been much worse without your quick action."

I close my eyes briefly, absorbing this. Three dead. People I might have known, might have grown up with, despite our differences. The weight of it settles beside the relief.

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