Page 7 of Fat Sold Mate (Silvercreek Lottery Mates #3)

“Ten minutes,” I say, looking directly at Petra rather than at Ruby's tear-streaked face. “Alone. We need to discuss this privately.”

Petra's lips curl into that smug smile I'm already fantasizing about ripping off her face. “How considerate of you to consult your purchase.” She gestures toward a door at the back of the cabin. “The bedroom. Ten minutes, not a second more.”

One of the Cheslem shifters—Verne—unlocks Ruby’s handcuffs roughly. I want to kill him, I realize with a thrill of rage. I want him dead.

My wolf snarls beneath my skin, bristling, angry, howling. I force him down with practiced control, though it takes more effort than usual. This isn't the time for his primal solutions.

“Ruby,” I say, finally looking at her. “Come on.”

She doesn't move, her amber eyes burning with fury and something deeper—a wounded, raw emotion I can't quite name.

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” she spits.

Verne shoves her forward, his massive hands rough on her shoulders. “You heard the man. Go talk to your new owner.”

I barely restrain myself from attacking him again. One wrong move and this fragile negotiation collapses, leaving Ruby trapped here. Instead, I swallow my rage and extend my hand to her.

“Please,” I say, the word strained through clenched teeth.

Ruby ignores my outstretched hand, stalking past me toward the bedroom, her back rigid with dignity despite her torn clothes and the blood dried on her temple. I follow, hyper-aware of the three pairs of predatory eyes tracking our movements.

The bedroom is barely that—a narrow space with a sagging twin mattress on a rusted metal frame, a cracked window letting in weak morning light, and the musty scent of abandonment hanging in the air.

Ruby positions herself against the far wall, arms crossed over her chest, as far from me as the small room allows.

I close the door, knowing full well the Cheslem wolves can hear every word with their enhanced senses. Still, the illusion of privacy is better than nothing.

“Are you hurt?” I ask immediately, my eyes cataloging the visible injuries—the cut on her temple, the bruising on her wrists, the way she favors her left side slightly.

“What do you care?” Ruby's voice is razor-edged.

“Of course I care,” I snap, frustration sharpening my tone. “I'm here, aren't I?”

“Yes, to buy me.” She laughs, a bitter, broken sound that scrapes against my nerves. “My hero.”

I take a deep breath, forcing calm that I don't feel. “I'm trying to get us both out of here alive.”

“By treating me like property?” Her eyes flash. “By agreeing to some archaic, barbaric ritual that strips me of my autonomy? Forgive me if I don't fall at your feet in gratitude.”

“You think I want this?” I gesture sharply between us. “You think this is how I imagined—” I cut myself off, unwilling to finish that thought.

“Imagined what?” she challenges, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “Being stuck with me? The pack outcast? Your worst nightmare come true?”

“That's not fair,” I say, frustration mounting. “You have no idea what I think.”

“I don't need to know,” she snaps, hugging herself tighter. “Your actions speak for themselves. Standing there negotiating my price like I'm livestock at auction.”

I run a hand through my hair, struggling to maintain my composure. “What would you have me do, Ruby? Leave you here? Let them keep you as their prisoner—or worse?”

“Maybe I'd rather take my chances with them than be purchased by you,” she says, though the slight quaver in her voice betrays her fear.

“That's not a real option, and you know it.”

She turns away, staring out the cracked window at the pine forest beyond. Her shoulders tremble slightly, and I realize she's fighting tears.

“There has to be another way,” she says, her voice smaller now.

I step closer, careful to keep some distance between us. “If there was, don't you think I'd take it? I don't want this either. Not like this.”

She whirls back to face me, eyes blazing through unshed tears. “Then why did you agree to it so quickly? You didn't even hesitate!”

“Because they would have killed you!” My control slips, voice rising before I rein it back in. “What was I supposed to do? Haggle? Debate the ethics of the situation while they decided you weren't worth the trouble?”

Ruby flinches at my outburst, and I immediately regret my tone. This isn't her fault. None of this is her fault.

“What happened between us?” I ask, the question escaping before I can stop it. “Two months ago, we were... something. And then suddenly you couldn't even look at me. What did I do?”

She stiffens, turning away again. “This isn't the time for that conversation.”

“When is the time, then? You've been avoiding me for months, and now we're about to be—” I can't even say the word 'bonded' out loud. “Don't you think I deserve to know why?”

“No,” she says flatly. “I don't. And it doesn't matter now anyway.”

The dismissal stings more than it should. “It matters to me.”

“Well, it shouldn't,” she says, her voice tight. “None of this should matter to you. I shouldn't matter to you.”

“But you do,” I admit, the words hanging between us, dangerous and exposed.

Ruby shakes her head, refusing to engage with my confession. “This is humiliating enough without pretending there's something more here.”

“I'm not pretending anything,” I insist. “I'm trying to understand what's happening.”

“What's happening is I'm being sold,” she says, each word precise and cutting. “Purchased. Like property. By someone who—” She stops abruptly, swallowing whatever she was about to say.

“By someone who what?” I press.

“It doesn't matter,” she repeats, her go-to deflection.

I step closer, unable to maintain the distance any longer. “Ruby, look at me.”

She doesn't.

“Please.”

Reluctantly, she meets my gaze, her amber eyes swimming with a complex mix of emotions—anger, fear, humiliation, and something deeper I can't decipher.

“I don't want to own you,” I say, willing her to believe me. “That's not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about?” she demands.

“Survival,” I answer simply. “Getting us both out of here alive. Whatever happens after, we'll figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” She laughs, the sound brittle. “How to dissolve a mate bond that can't be broken? How to explain that the Alpha's right hand is tied to the pack reject through coercion?”

“Stop calling yourself that,” I say sharply.

“What, the truth?” Her voice cracks slightly. “The pack has made it clear what they think of me my entire life. The lottery didn't change that. This won't either.”

I want to argue, to tell her she's wrong, but there's too much truth in her words. Silvercreek hasn't been kind to Ruby Mulligan.

“I’m sorry,” I say instead. “I am. But I—I’m not changing my mind on this.”

Ruby's eyes narrow. “You don’t care that it should be my choice? What if I’d rather stay than belong to you?”

I wince, but stand my ground. “Yes.

Her shoulders rise, eyes flashing with fury. “You can’t do this—”

“I can,” I snap. “I can, and I will. I won’t leave you here.”

“It should be my choice—”

“But it isn’t,” I cut in, shocked at the coldness in my own voice as I say it. “It isn’t, Ruby.”

A knock at the door interrupts whatever she might have said. Petra's voice calls through the wood: “Time's up, lovebirds.”

Ruby's face pales, her momentary relief vanishing. “James, please,” she whispers. “There has to be another way.”

I wish I could give her what she wants. Wish I could find another solution that doesn't require this sacrifice of her dignity, her autonomy.

But looking at her—the bruise darkening on her cheekbone, the dried blood on her temple, the fear she's trying so hard to hide—I know there's only one choice I can make.

“I'm sorry,” I say, meaning it more than she'll ever know. “But we're doing this.”

“No,” she protests, desperation edging her voice. “James, I'm begging you. Don't do this to me.”

The door opens, Petra's smug face appearing in the gap. “Decision time.”

Ruby grabs my arm, her fingers digging into my skin. “Please,” she whispers. “Please don't.”

I look down at her, steeling myself against the plea in her eyes, the tears threatening to spill over. My wolf howls in distress, hating that we're causing her pain, but firm in the conviction that this is necessary to protect her.

“It's not your choice,” I tell her, my voice low and final. “I'm not leaving you here.”