Page 30 of Fat Sold Mate (Silvercreek Lottery Mates #3)
Full moon light filters through the trees, casting long shadows across the gathering warriors.
Silvercreek's strongest fighters stand in tight formation—thirty wolves prepared to risk everything for our kidnapped packmates.
The air thrums with tension, with purpose, with the barely leashed violence that defines shifters on a hunt.
And I'm going with them.
My fingers trace the outline of my mother's grimoire, tucked securely in the leather satchel at my hip alongside Sera's journal.
The weight is comforting despite the terror clawing at my insides.
I'm no warrior—my strength has never been physical—but tonight, my magic may determine whether our pack survives.
“Remember,” Luna instructs, her voice low as she hands me small fabric pouches filled with herbs and crystals, “the purification works in stages. You'll feel resistance at first—the corruption fighting back. Push through it, no matter how it feels.”
I nod, committing her words to memory though we've been over this a dozen times in the past three days. “And if it's too strong?”
Luna's eyes flicker briefly to where James stands with Nic and Thomas, reviewing attack formations one final time. “Draw deeper on your bond. It's strong enough, Ruby. Stronger than you realize.”
Before I can respond, Nic raises a hand for silence. The pack instantly stills, all eyes turning to their Alpha.
“We know our objective,” he says, voice pitched to carry no further than our circle.
“Get in, free our people, get out. No heroics, no unnecessary risks.” His gaze sweeps the assembled fighters before landing on me.
“Ruby's priority is performing the purification ritual on any corrupted wolves who can still be saved. Protect her at all costs.”
James steps forward, his expression betraying none of the anxiety I feel pulsing through our bond.
“First team creates the diversion at the eastern boundary. The second team, led by Thomas, breaches from the north. Main rescue force follows me in from the west, where intelligence suggests the prisoners are being held.”
Simple, straightforward. So many ways it could go wrong.
As the fighters move to their assigned positions, James catches my elbow, drawing me aside into the shadow of a massive oak. His touch sends a current through our bond, awareness sharpening between us like a blade being honed.
“Stay close to me,” he says, his voice low with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “No matter what happens in there.”
“I know the plan,” I reply, aiming for reassurance but landing somewhere closer to defensive.
James shakes his head, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. “This isn't about the plan, Ruby. This is about—” He stops, dragging a hand through his hair as he searches for words. “I need you to know something. Before we go in there.”
The solemnity in his tone sends a chill down my spine. “What is it?”
“This thing between us,” he begins, gesturing vaguely at the space between our bodies. “It didn't start with the lottery. Or the forced bond. It was there before. For me, at least. I need you to know that.”
I stare at him, momentarily speechless. Of all the moments to have this conversation, he chooses now, minutes before we charge into battle against corrupted wolves?
“What are you saying?” I manage finally.
His eyes meet mine, amber depths filled with an emotion I'm afraid to name.
“I'm saying I've been drawn to you since before Luna left Silvercreek. Years, Ruby. But I never knew how to approach you. I was a coward. I went along with how the pack treated you. I stood by while they made you an outcast.”
The confession hits like a physical blow, leaving me breathless with conflicting emotions. Hope and skepticism war within me, neither gaining the upper hand.
“Why tell me this now?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Because we might not get another chance,” he answers simply. “And you deserve to know that whatever happens in there, whatever we face—my feelings for you aren't because of some magical bond we were forced into. They existed long before that.”
I want to believe him. Gods, how I want to. But the memory of his laughter, of cruel words spoken to friends, still burns in my mind. And beneath that lingers the deeper question—how much of what we feel now is real, and how much is the magic binding us together?
“James, I—” I begin, not sure what I'm going to say.
He shakes his head, cutting me off gently. “You don't have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”
The call comes before I can respond—a low whistle signaling it's time to move out. James holds my gaze for one moment longer, something unspoken passing between us, before we rejoin the others.
No time left for words. Only action now.
The attack begins with calculated precision.
A thunderous explosion rocks the eastern boundary—Luna's magic combined with more conventional explosives, creating a diversion that draws half the Cheslem forces away from their main encampment.
As howls and shouts fill the night, our team moves silently through the shadows, approaching from the west where the forest provides cover almost to the edge of their makeshift camp.
The scent of corruption grows stronger as we approach—a sickly-sweet rot that coats the back of my throat. Through our bond, I feel James's revulsion mirroring my own, his protective instincts surging as he positions himself between me and potential threats.
We reach the edge of the clearing where crude cages hold our captured packmates.
Elder Victoria is immediately visible, her silver hair gleaming in the moonlight despite the dirt and blood marring her dignified features.
Beside her, three other Silvercreek wolves crouch in various states of injury.
Elder Amelia is noticeably absent, and dread pools in my stomach at what that might mean.
“On my signal,” James whispers, the words barely audible even to shifter hearing.
The diversionary forces have done their job well—only four corrupted guards remain at the prison site. As we watch, Thomas's team engages from the north, drawing the attention of two guards with a direct assault. The moment the remaining guards turn toward the commotion, James signals the attack.
What follows is chaos—silver blades flashing in moonlight, the snarls of shifting wolves, the stench of corruption growing stronger as blood is spilled. James stays at my side as promised, a lethal shadow clearing a path toward the cages where our packmates wait.
We've almost reached them when a young Cheslem wolf lunges from the shadows, teeth bared in a snarl that lacks the mindless rage of the fully corrupted. His eyes hold awareness, fear, the unmistakable struggle of someone fighting the darkness inside them.
“Help me,” he gasps, black veins visibly pulsing beneath his skin. “Please.”
James positions himself to strike, but I catch his arm. “Wait,” I urge, feeling something different about this wolf. “He's fighting it.”
The young man falls to his knees, trembling with the effort of resisting the corruption's pull. “Sera said there was a way,” he chokes out. “A cleansing.”
At Sera's name, I make my decision. Ignoring James's protest, I pull the ritual components from my satchel, working quickly to arrange the herbs and crystals in the pattern Luna taught me.
“What are you doing?” James hisses, eyes constantly scanning for threats. “This isn't the plan.”
“Plans change,” I reply, already beginning the incantation. “Hold him still.”
James complies with obvious reluctance, gripping the young wolf's shoulders as I place my palms against his corruption-marked chest. The bond between James and me flares instantly, power surging through it like electricity seeking ground.
I channel it through the incantation, through the ritual components, into the corrupted wolf's body.
The resistance is immediate and terrible, like pushing against a wall of ice that burns to touch. The corruption fights back, sensing the threat to its existence. Black tendrils seem to reach for me, seeking to spread their taint.
I falter, nearly losing the thread of the incantation as pain lances through me.
“Ruby,” James's voice reaches me through the haze of agony. “Draw deeper. I'm here.”
Our eyes lock, and I do as he says—reaching through our bond with desperate need, pulling on the connection between us with everything I have. Power floods through me, raw and primal and overwhelming. The incantation gains strength, forcing the corruption to retreat inch by excruciating inch.
With a final surge of energy that leaves me gasping, the cleansing completes. The young wolf collapses forward, black veins receding visibly from his skin as the corruption is expelled in a noxious cloud that dissipates in the night air.
“It worked,” I breathe, scarcely believing what I've accomplished.
“Later,” James urges, already pulling me toward the cages where Thomas and the others have subdued the remaining guards. “We need to move.”
We free the captives quickly, providing support to those too injured to walk unaided. As we prepare to retreat, another corrupted wolf approaches—this one a woman barely older than me, her eyes clear despite the corruption marking her skin.
“Please,” she begs, seeing what happened to her packmate. “Help me, too.”
I hesitate, already feeling the drain from the first cleansing. James's hand finds mine, strength flowing through our bond like a transfusion.
“Together,” he says simply.
The second cleansing nearly destroys us both. By the time the corruption releases its hold on the woman, I'm barely conscious, supported entirely by James, whose own face is gray with exhaustion. But it works—another Cheslem wolf freed from Matthias's control.
Our victory is short-lived. As we begin our retreat, a piercing howl cuts through the night—a sound of such malevolent rage that it freezes the blood in my veins. Matthias emerges from the largest structure in the camp, his form twisted almost beyond recognition by advanced corruption.
“Leaving so soon?” he taunts, voice distorted by the darkness that has consumed him. Behind him, three figures are dragged into view—Elder Victoria, who'd been separated from our rescuers in the chaos, and two other Silvercreek wolves I don't immediately recognize.
Nic steps forward, shifting to wolf form in preparation for battle, snarling at the sight of his grandmother captured, but Matthias merely laughs—a sound like breaking glass that sends shivers down my spine.
“Take another step, Alpha, and they die now instead of at midnight,” he warns.
Trapped in an impossible position, Nic hesitates. It's all the time Matthias needs to retreat with his captives, disappearing into the forest beyond with unnatural speed.
“We have to go after them,” Thomas insists, already moving to pursue.
“No,” Nic snaps. “We need to consolidate, regroup. Gather every last person we can find. We don’t have much time—by midnight, the people they kidnapped will be dead. Let’s go!”
His voice bears no arguing.
Midnight. Dread rattles through me. It’s barely enough time to regroup, to recover, to prepare for what promises to be a final confrontation with forces far beyond anything we've faced before.
As we retreat to Silvercreek territory, James's arm around my waist supporting my exhausted body, the bond between us pulses with shared determination, shared fear, shared unspoken truths that might never see the light of day if we fail.
The moon creeps up through the sky, counting down the hours until everything we love faces extinction. Unless we can find the strength in ourselves, in each other, in the bond we never chose but might just save us all, to stop it.