Page 18 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
Her expression falls a bit, turning more empathetic. “He’s been under a lot of pressure lately, being a new Alpha and all. He’s trying to make sense of everything, too. Trust is a lot to ask for, but I’m hoping you can lend us just a little for now.”
The sincerity and kindness in her tone throw me. The way she looks at me is disarming, even when I’m trying not to get myself in too deep here.
After enduring a beat of silence, Eve takes a small, cautious step closer. “It’s tradition. The ceremony happens by the water, in a sacred place. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
I can already tell she means it, but I stiffen just a touch. “It’s not my tradition.”
“I know,” she says gently, almost looking like she wishes she could take the discomfort away. It’s almost confusing how easily she offers that kindness to me. She doesn’t even know me.
Before I can say anything, I catch what sounds like bickering nearby, and I glance out to see Luke standing a short distance from the house with an older man. His tone is sharp, yet more restrained than the other’s. Given how similar they look, I assume that must be his father.
I strain to hear them at first, but the tension is heavy even from here.
“…It’s too soon,” his dad says, eyes surprisingly intense. “You’re pushing them too much.”
Even if there’s a subtle hesitation in the way Luke looks at him, almost like he’s warring between being a son and a leader, he stands his ground. “I don’t have the luxury of waiting.”
“Either way, it’s reckless. Stupid, too.”
Luke’s jaw clenches. “It’s necessary.”
“You’re binding yourself to a woman you don’t even know. To instability.”
That word strikes me harder than it should, given how I don’t have any reason to be invested in these people or what they think of me, but it burns anyway. I go perfectly still, hating how it feels to be talked about like this.
I glance over when I feel Eve’s hand on my arm, glancing between me and the obvious disagreement happening.
“Come on,” she says quietly, already guiding me away with a small, encouraging smile that just barely falters at the edges, as if she can sense what all of this is doing to me.
My pulse roars in my ears, but I can’t bring myself to argue or to listen to their harsh exchange.
Before long, I’m brought back to the spare room and guided to the bed where Eve spreads out her tools and makeup, draping the bag over the foot of the bed. Unable to argue, I’m helped into the dress made up of an off-white silk decorated with strands of varying shades of blue and green. Small, encrusted gems catch in the light whenever I move.
The dipped neckline and soft, gauzy sleeves make it more beautiful than I care to admit, reminiscent of something a sea goddess might wear. But I can’t pretend like this is all for a good cause, or that any of this should be for me.
“The dress is meant to mirror the tide,” Eve says quietly while she gently begins with my makeup. “Each one is a replica of the one before it, all following a similar pattern. It was designed to represent strength and surrender, and to flow like water. That’s what the elders always say, anyway.”
I almost want to laugh at how ironic it is.
“Surrender,” I murmur more to myself than anything, but she doesn’t let it get to her.
“We bond at the cove where our ancestors first performed their ceremonies. Both the sea and pack serve as witnesses,” she explains, speaking with at least a touch of reverence. “That’s how it has always been.”
I dwell on the word ‘witness’ for a little too long, allowing that fact to twist inside me. They will all be watching, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The dissolving of my wants and needs will be seen by the entire pack, as if it wasn’t humiliating enough.
Eve looks me over for a moment, noticing the hard swallow I take. She says lightly, “You can hate him—I probably would too if I were you. But I hope you know he isn’t a monster.”
In some ways, it feels like he is, even if he has been gentler than expected.
“That doesn’t mean I’ll smile, or pretend I’m okay with any of this.”
She lightly sweeps blush across my cheek. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m not going to promise anything I don’t mean, either.”
She hesitates, and when I meet her gaze, she takes on a sheepish look. “That part…is less flexible.”
Of course it isn’t.
