Page 61 of Fat Betrayed Mate
Radio static crackles through the trees, followed by a man's voice: "Group Two, eastern quadrant. Any sign?"
I clamp my hand over Maisie's mouth, feeling her rapid breath against my palm. Three hunters move through the clearing ahead, rifles held ready, scanning the forest floor for tracks.
"Nothing yet," one responds. "But Wright says they're here somewhere."
Wright. My father.
Cold sweat breaks across my skin. He's coordinating this, directing the hunt personally. The distant bark of automatic weapons to the west suggests Thomas is still fighting—which means these hunters aren't the same group. They're hunting in teams, a coordinated sweep.
We're surrounded.
Maisie squirms in my arms, eyes wide with fear. I crouch down, setting her on her feet.
"Listen to me," I whisper, stroking her hair. "We need to move very quietly, okay? Like a game."
She nods, solemn beyond her years. We've played this "game" before, in other towns, other hiding places. My brave girl already knows what it means when Mama looks over her shoulder too often.
I keep us low and moving, avoiding exposed areas, taking the most overgrown paths where the hunters' bulky frameswould struggle to follow. But they're everywhere, materializing between trees, voices calling to each other across the forest.
A flash of movement in the distance catches my attention. Not a wolf—someone moving through the underbrush toward town, clearly having heard the hunters.
Luna.
Relief floods through me. I change course, pulling Maisie toward where I spotted my friend. We emerge into a small clearing just as Luna spots us, whirling around.
"Fiona!" She rushes to us, eyes wide. "What the hell is happening? The northern perimeter's swarming with hunters."
"The hunters—Wright," I say, the words bitter on my tongue. "He found us."
Understanding dawns on her face. She's heard enough from me these past weeks to know what that means. "Where's Thomas?"
"Fighting them off at the ridge. There are more coming." I push Maisie forward gently. "Luna, please—take her."
Luna's eyes widen, but she doesn't hesitate, kneeling to Maisie's level. "Hey, little one. Want to go on an adventure with me?"
Maisie's face crumples. "I want to stay with Mama."
I crouch beside her, ignoring the fresh sounds of pursuit growing closer. "Remember how brave you were when we moved to Silvercreek? I need you to be that brave again."
"Are the bad men coming?"
The simple question breaks something inside me. "Yes, baby. But Luna will keep you safe until I come find you."
"Promise you'll come back?" Her voice wavers, unleashing memories of every frightened question in every new town, every hasty departure.
"I promise." I kiss her forehead, inhaling her scent—pine needles and sunshine and that underlying sweetness that's uniquely Maisie. "Go with Luna now. Listen to what she tells you."
Luna meets my eyes over Maisie's head. "I'll take her to the safe house near the river bend. The pack's gathering the children there."
I nod, throat too tight for words.
"Fiona," Luna says, her voice dropping. "What about Thomas?"
"I'm going back for him."
She studies me for a moment, then nods. "Be careful. These aren't just angry humans with guns. They're organized."
"I know." Better than anyone, I know what my father is capable of.
