Page 31 of Fat Betrayed Mate
"To protect you," he says desperately. "I was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
His mouth opens and closes. Whatever he's fighting to say, he can't force the words out. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken truths and years of accumulated pain.
"I can't do this," I whisper, tears finally spilling over. "I can't lie here with you pretending everything's fine when you won't even tell me why you broke my heart."
I start to pull away, but Thomas catches my wrist.
"Don't go," he pleads. "It's freezing out there, and the rain—"
"I don't care." I shake off his grip, grabbing my jacket, and pack. "I'll finish the trial, but I can't be here with you. Not like this."
"Fiona, please—"
But I'm already crawling out of the shelter, rain immediately soaking through my clothes. The cold hits like a physical slap, but I welcome it. Better to freeze than to spend another moment trapped with a man who can kiss me like I'm his whole world but won't trust me with the truth.
"It's dangerous to travel at night," Thomas calls after me, his voice carrying over the sound of rain.
"I'll manage," I call back, shouldering my pack. "I've been managing just fine without you for six years."
I hear him moving behind me, probably gathering his gear to follow, but I'm already shifting, my wolf form better equipped for navigating the dark forest. I catch his frustrated shout as I disappear between the trees, but I don't look back.
The journey back to Silvercreek passes in a blur of cold rain and righteous anger. I switch between human and wolfform as needed, using my shifted senses to navigate treacherous terrain and avoid getting completely lost. My wolf wants to turn back, to return to the warmth and safety of Thomas's presence, but I override her instincts with sheer stubborn will.
By the time I emerge from the forest at dawn, I'm exhausted, soaked to the bone, and emotionally wrung out. But I'm alive, and I've technically completed the trial by returning before the deadline.
The trial officials are surprised to see me alone, asking questions about Thomas's status that I answer with minimal details. He's fine; he'll be along shortly. We completed the challenge, but we traveled back separately. They seem satisfied with my explanation, marking our trial as successful despite the unconventional ending.
I collect Maisie from Luna's house, where I find her awake early and drawing wolves in a notebook while Nic makes breakfast.
"Mama!" She launches herself into my arms, and I hold her tight, breathing in her sweet scent. "How was camping?"
"Cold and wet," I say honestly. "But we survived."
"Did you see any real wolves?"
"Just the usual ones," I reply, thinking of my own shifted form in the darkness.
Luna appears in the doorway, taking in my bedraggled appearance with knowing eyes. "Rough night?"
"You could say that."
She doesn't push for details, for which I'm grateful. I'm barely holding myself together as it is, and I need to get Maisie home before I fall apart completely.
The walk to our cottage feels endless, but finally, we're safe behind our own door. I help Maisie with breakfast and her morning routine, going through the motions while my mind replays the night's events on an endless loop.
Thomas's desperate plea to trust him. His claim that he was trying to protect me. The way he looked when I asked him to explain—like he wanted to tell me everything but couldn't force the words out.
None of it makes sense. And until it does, until he trusts me enough to share whatever truth he's been hiding, I can't let myself hope for anything more than completing these trials and finding some way to survive whatever comes after them.
Chapter 8 - Thomas
Dawn breaks gray and cold as I trudge back into Silvercreek, my boots squelching in the mud from last night's rain. Every muscle aches from the cramped shelter and restless sleep after Fiona left, but the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest. I can still see her face in the darkness—tear-streaked and furious, demanding answers I can't give.
The Pack Building is already buzzing with early morning activity when I push through the double doors. James looks up from a stack of patrol reports, his expression shifting from professional focus to concern when he takes in my bedraggled appearance.
"Rough night?" he asks, though his tone suggests he already knows the answer.
