Page 60 of Fat Betrayed Mate
"I'm responsible for bringing his attention here. For putting Maisie in danger. For—" She breaks off again, her eyes filling with fresh tears.
"For what?"
She stares at me for a long moment, her expression cycling through fear, longing, and something that looks almost like hope. "Thomas, there's something I need to tell you. About Maisie. About why I really left."
My heart starts hammering against my ribs. Whatever she's about to say, I can feel its importance in the charged air between us.
"I should have told you years ago, but I was scared, and then it seemed too late, and now—" She takes a shaky breath. "Thomas, Maisie is—"
The sound cuts through her words like a knife—the distant rumble of engines, growing closer. My wolf surges to attention, every sense sharpening as I process the threat.
"Get behind me," I order, my voice dropping to command tone as I scan the treeline below us.
"What is it?" Fiona asks, but she's already moving, pulling Maisie against her side.
"Vehicles. Multiple engines, heading this way."
The sound grows louder, closer, accompanied by voices and the crack of branches as something large moves through the underbrush. My wolf is clawing at my control, demanding I shift and defend what's mine.
"Thomas," Fiona whispers, her scent spiking with terror. "I can see them."
I follow her gaze to the valley below, where three mud-spattered ATVs are climbing the ridge trail. Armed figures in hunting gear move with the practiced efficiency of a military unit, their weapons at ready position.
They're too close. Too organized. This isn't a random patrol—they knew exactly where to look.
"Run," I tell Fiona, already feeling my control starting to slip. "Take Maisie and run. Now."
"I'm not leaving you—"
"Go!"
But even as I give the order, I know it's too late. The hunters are already within range, their vehicles blocking the escape routes. We're trapped on the ridge with nowhere to go but down.
My wolf makes the decision for me.
Chapter 15 - Fiona
Thomas explodes into wolf form before I can blink, his massive body surging forward with a roar that echoes across the ridge. His fur catches the sunlight—rich brown streaked with silver—as he lunges between us and the approaching hunters.
"Run!" The command tears from his throat, caught between human and wolf.
I grab Maisie, lifting her against my chest in one fluid motion. She's too heavy for me to carry far, but adrenaline makes her weight irrelevant as I sprint for the forest edge.
Gunshots crack behind us. Maisie buries her face against my neck, her small body trembling.
"Mama—"
"Don't look," I whisper, ducking under low-hanging branches. "Just hold on."
The forest swallows us, familiar paths unfurling before me like old friends. I haven't run these woods in years, but my body remembers—which hollows hide our scent, which streams can mask our trail. Silvercreek's territory is etched into my bones.
My lungs burn, each breath a knife between my ribs. Maisie's weight grows heavier with every stride, but I push forward, driven by the sound of pursuit crashing through the underbrush behind us.
"Where's Thomas?" Maisie asks between bouncing steps.
"Fighting," I manage, changing direction at a massive oak I recognize. "Protecting us."
Something moves in the forest ahead—multiple somethings. More hunters, cutting off our path. I skid to a stop, pressing against the rough bark of a pine tree, trying to silence my breathing.
