Page 15 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
Regardless of the subtle way she flinches at my tone, still nothing. I exhale slowly and rub a hand down my face.
Of course, she isn’t making this easy for me. Why would she?
Even if I brought this on myself, I’m not letting it go.
“What happens if I decide this is too much risk for my pack?” I ask her, choosing my words carefully. “I could send word to Wraith Peak and have this reversed.”
Her eyes return to mine, quick and vaguely alarmed. “What?”
“I can get Dawson to come back and collect you, and pretend like none of this ever happened,” I murmur, hating how it sounds, and hating the thought alone. “Or, you can be honest with me.”
Sera freezes, and she looks at me like a cornered animal now, with her quickened breath. I can sense her pulse’s fluttering from here.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
The fear that surrounds her is immediate and so visceral, I know it isn’t forced. The look of it alone twists something in my gut, making me regret even saying it. But I need her to tell me the truth.
“I’m trying to protect my pack,” I murmur, trying to at least soften the blow as much as I can. “If you’re hiding something that puts them at risk—”
“I’m not a threat to you,” she snaps at me, allowing more of her irritation to spark. It seems I’ve struck a nerve.
I cross my arms again. “Then tell me what you are, and why Dawson is after you.”
Sera stares at me for a long moment, hands trembling slightly like she’s trapped and trying to work out how to free herself with minimal damage. “You’d send me back?”
“Not if I know what I’m dealing with.”
She looks at me like she hates me, and honestly, she probably does. I can’t say I blame her. Then, surely aware this won’t end in anything but the truth, she sighs. “I’m a witch.”
I hold her gaze for far longer than I intend to, urging the words to settle and make any ounce of sense. But the impact of what that means hits me hard enough to render me speechless.
A witch. Magic.
“You’re being serious with me?”
With some resignation, and what looks like a flicker of shame, she nods. “I’m telling the truth.”
I feel like an idiot for staring at her so blatantly, like I don’t have a single thought in my head, but the opposite is true. My thoughts won’t shut up as they bounce off the walls of my mind.
“I can use magic,” she murmurs, withdrawing into herself. “I’ve been hiding it my entire life, but Dawson and his family found out.”
As difficult as it is to digest fully, everything clicks into place. The wolves after her, whether they knew or not, Dawson’s barely restrained need to get her back…the warning that she would destabilize my pack.
I paid to have a witch inside Coldreach. The elders and everyone opposed to the use of magic will lose their minds.
“You smell like a wolf, not a witch. How?” I ask, trying to make sense of it all.
“I have wolf blood in me, but I can’t shift. It might have something to do with the magic,” she admits. “I’ve never had anyone to guide me.”
A shiftless wolf…uncommon but not impossible. Not that I know much about magic, but I can only assume she’s right.
“So you learned how to wield it on your own?”
She nods, not expanding on it. And she doesn’t need to.
My head’s already spinning, both mulling over what this means and what it could do to the pack.
