Page 45 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
The others laugh too, and before long, more stories about our service are being shared, and the food is consumed in an unhurried fashion. For a while, it feels like the ice has melted to some degree, even if Sera stays mostly quiet while she observes.
Conversation flows around us, and as Hunter recounts the time Dominic nearly set his own tent on fire, I reach over and cover Sera’s hand that rests on the table. It’s a light gesture, and visible enough to be innocuous, but I catch the way she stiffens and throws a questioning look at me.
She doesn’t pull away, but her bristle lingers, making my inner wolf feel vaguely frustrated.
When the guys start arguing about Wraith Peak terrain, I glance at Sera, bringing her into it even if she’d rather be quiet and listen. The look she gives me says enough, but she indulges them with her experience, and they listen. Even Dad does.
Still, I feel the resistance emanating from him, like he’s merely biding his time.
His attention focuses on me when I place my hand on the top of Sera’s chair, close enough to be intentional, but not too close to actually touch. Even if he doesn’t speak his mind, I already know what he’s thinking. I know he assumes this bond is condemning me to the worst imaginable fate.
But it goes beyond Sera. This wound between us is old…nearly as old as I am.
I’ve spent my entire life trying to meet his expectations and to earn the approval he always keeps just out of my reach. Bonding with a witch is beneath his unspoken plans for me, and I know that, but I’m not living out his blueprint.
Toward the end of the meal, Eve raises her glass with a smile. “To Luke for bringing us together and finally settling down…and to Sera for surviving us.”
That earns her several chuckles from around the table as glasses are knocked together. I huff my amusement, and even Sera’s lips twitch faintly.
Unsurprisingly, Dad doesn’t lift his glass. Instead, he stays quiet and doesn’t do himself any favors.
Thankfully, my siblings are much warmer than he is, and they help distract me from his lack of engagement.
With my hand on the back of Sera’s chair again, present but not overbearingly possessive, I feel how she responds instantly, wanting to pull away without doing so. And in an act of betrayal, more warmth moves through the bond.
I know she wants to hate me and deny that this has any effect on her, but I know better. It’s just a matter of getting her to realize that trusting me and this connection doesn’t have to be the end of the world.
As dinner continues, I watch everyone interact, finding as many ways as I can to include Sera without forcing it, and I find myself thinking about the future.
I don’t know if the pack will accept her as I envision, or if my father will ever approve, but either way, I chose her.
Everyone can claim that I made the wrong choice, but I’m not giving up on her. Even if she spends the next few years hating me, I know I didn’t choose her on a whim.
Chapter 15 - Sera
The house feels different once everyone leaves after dinner, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
Standing at the kitchen sink longer than necessary, I rinse a clean plate off for the third time just to avoid looking at Luke. I glance at my reflection in the window above the sink, not recognizing myself at first. The slight color hasn’t left my cheeks, and my face is almost softer around the edges. I pretend not to see the faint mark peeking out beneath the collar of my shirt.
We mated beyond just the ceremony, and even now, that word feels so foreign.
Everything surrounding the bond had been forced before. As Luke claims, it was to keep me safe and out of Dawson’s grasp, and to help mend the pack’s fear of magic. But physically giving my body to him is something else entirely. I chose it and clearly wanted it, at least in the moment.
That’s the part I can’t shake the most. But even with that in mind, I don’t want to pretend like everything is perfect now, or that one night together can erase the anger I’ve been carrying ever since Luke found me.
My body and the bond don’t seem interested in my pride, but I refuse to give it up.
Luke moves behind me while he stacks dishes into the dishwasher, quiet yet moving with a subtle confidence. He’s always confident, but right now, it comes easier, like it’s completely and utterly honest.
It irritates me, just like it did during dinner.
Throughout the meal, he kept brushing up against me, sometimes fully touching, sometimes not, but it was enough forme to feel the heat of him anyway. He did it like we’re already a settled couple falling into a familiar rhythm, as if the dinner we hosted was a normal occurrence. He acted like his own father wasn’t looking at me like I was a liability at his son’s table.
After a moment of tense silence, I feel his eyes on me.
“That went well.”
“Well?”
