Page 63 of Fat Betrayed Mate
Nic opens his mouth to argue, then closes it, seeing the determination in my eyes. "Don't get shot," he says finally. "We've got enough problems."
I slip back into the forest, moving more cautiously now. The sounds of conflict echo from all directions, disorienting me. Twice, I have to flatten myself against the earth as hunter patrols pass nearby.
This isn't random violence. This is methodical, practiced. My father has been preparing for this moment for years, some part of me knows—ever since I ran with his grandchild in my womb.
A low growl from the underbrush freezes me mid-step. I crouch, ready to run, when a massive wolf emerges from between two fallen logs. Blood mats the fur on his shoulder, but his eyes—Thomas's eyes, amber and fierce—lock onto mine with unmistakable relief.
"Thomas," I breathe.
He approaches slowly, muscles rippling beneath his bloodied coat. Up close, I can see the wound isn't deep—a graze, painful but not serious. My hand reaches out instinctively, fingers sinking into his thick fur.
"You're okay," I whisper, the knot in my chest loosening slightly. "I thought—"
He nudges my hand with his muzzle, cutting off my words. His eyes ask the question his wolf form can't voice.
"Maisie's with Luna," I tell him. "They're heading to the safe house by the river bend."
Relief floods his scent, followed immediately by alarm as a crashing sound comes from our left. More hunters.
Thomas growls, positioning himself between me and the noise. But we can't keep running, can't keep hiding. We need to find Maisie.
"We need to get to the safe house," I say. "But we'll move faster as wolves."
Thomas huffs in agreement. I let the wolf forth, close my eyes, allowing the change to ripple through me.
It hurts. My wolf is angry, stressed, desperate. But beneath the pain lies relief—like finally exhaling after holding my breath for too long. She’s going to find her pup.
There's no time for the reunion our wolves want—the press of noses, the circling dance of recognition. Instead, Thomas leads the way through the forest, following a path only wolves can see.
The world shifts into primal simplicity through my wolf's eyes. Threat or ally. Safety or danger. Pack or enemy. We move as one unit, Thomas slightly ahead, both of us tracking Luna and Maisie's scent through the chaotic weave of human and wolf trails crisscrossing the forest.
Their path is clear at first—Luna moving confidently toward the river safe house. But halfway there, somethingchanges. The trail veers sharply east, toward the territory boundary. Luna's pace becomes erratic.
They were being pursued.
We follow the altered trail to a small clearing where signs of struggle mar the forest floor. Torn earth where claws dug for traction. Blood—not much, but enough to recognize Luna's scent in it. And boot prints, several sets, surrounding a smaller pair I recognize with painful clarity.
Maisie's sneakers. The ones with rainbow laces she picked out herself.
Thomas growls, circling the clearing, rage, and confusion pouring off him in waves. I nudge a disturbed patch of leaves, revealing Luna's form curled beneath a hastily constructed cover of branches.
She's unconscious but breathing. A nasty gash crosses her temple, dried blood matting her blonde hair. I shift back to human and check her pulse.
"Luna," I whisper, patting her cheek gently. "Luna, wake up."
Her eyes flutter, unfocused with pain.
"Ambush," she mumbles. "Six of them. Tried to run..." She struggles to sit up. "Maisie—"
"Where is she?" My voice cracks with desperation.
"He took her." Luna's eyes clear slightly, focusing on my face. "Your father. He was here, Fiona. I think it was him. Said something about... making things right."
Ice floods my veins. Thomas snarls beside me, understanding enough to know Maisie's been taken, even if he doesn't yet know why my father would specifically target her.
"The old Creekside hunting lodge," Luna manages before her eyes roll back.
I know the place—a rundown lodge just beyond pack territory where local hunters would gather during deer season. Remote enough for privacy, accessible enough for vehicles.
