Page 19 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
Eve continues her work, moving with an efficient yet unhurried pace. Eventually, she does my hair as best she can, despite its short length, working a delicate braid into the loose curls she styled.
Once she’s done, she steps back and looks me over with a pleased smile. “You look like part of the sea already.”
Something about that only makes everything feel worse.
***
The ceremony begins as Eve said. The cove is a structure carved into the bottom of the cliffs within the main territory, nestled between water and land. The salty sea air is everywhere, and despite it looking like any other seaside, it feels a little different.
Even if the shifters here don’t believe in magic, it exists here in some ancient sort of way. I feel it in the way the waves crash, like pent-up energy waiting to be released as they hit the stone and sand. It reminds me of myself, though, the current is much freer than I am.
Every pair of eyes is on us while we stand together beneath the rock formation, both curious and wary. I can feel the way they assess me, most openly skeptical.
They don’t know who I am, and I don’t know them. I appeared out of nowhere, and now, I’m being mated to their Alpha. It doesn’t make sense to them, or to me.
Luke stands next to me, barefoot, with his ceremonial shirt being tugged by the breeze. His hair is slightly disheveled, but regardless of how steady he seems, it almost makes him look younger and a bit boyish. It makes me wonder what he was like as a teen, before all of this.
There’s nothing smug or triumphant in the way he holds himself as the ceremony begins. If anything, he’s reverent and respectful, like his sister had been when describing the tradition to me, like he has fully grown into his place here. While I don’t, he belongs to the ocean.
If the situation were different, I might respect that about him. But here and now, it only makes my anger burn hotter.
With the sea at my back and the pack flanking us, it feels like everything is closing in around me at once. I’m reminded that there’s no exiting, and no fleeing.
Luke may be in his element here, but I have never felt more out of place. They can dress me up all they want, but it won’t change the fact that I’m an outsider. A drifter with nothing.
The one thing I do have rises to the surface just enough to feel protective. I let the faintest flicker of magic wash through me. It’s just enough to numb my senses and make everything feel more bearable, but not enough to cause any alarm.
It helps to blur the events unfolding around me, melding them all together as I participate with great reluctance.
“The ocean remembers what we cannot,” one of the elders says, voice carrying over the crashing of waves. “It remembers the first wolves who stood here and committed themselves to their bonds. It witnessed them, and it witnesses now.”
I barely hear him over the quick rhythm of my pulse, somewhat muted in an attempt to protect myself.
Like a veil has been placed over my eyes, I feel more like an observer as an older woman approaches, making a light cut into Luke’s palm first with a ceremonial blade. He doesn’t even wince, but the scent of his blood is sharp and almost turns my stomach. Then, she does the same to me, and the pain hardly registers.
“You stand before witnesses. Before pack and sea,” he continues, as Luke’s hand is pressed against mine. “Throughblood and tide, you are bound. The ocean receives your offering, and in return, she provides a connection as pure as her waters.”
A thin line of our blood runs down our fingers, dripping slowly into the shallow tide around us.
Everything about this moment should be cherished. It feels so divine and earnest, yet I can’t ignore the way it feels thrust onto me. All of this is wasted on me.
Rather than like I’m willingly offering myself to him and to tradition, I just feel exposed and on display.
With our palms pressed together as the elder continues to speak, I feel heat at the contact. It would be easy to assume it comes from magic, but I know better than that. It’s something else entirely.
Every word said and repeated carries so much weight, both binding and final, and it only pushes me deeper into a position I never asked for.
For a moment, the numbness flickers as Luke’s forehead is pressed to mine while the ocean spray flies up around us, dampening our clothes and hair. The warmth of his skin almost feels like it is burning compared to the cold water.
“Breathe,” he murmurs, low enough just for me.
It’s meant to be comforting, but I don’t want his gentleness or his reassurance. I just want my autonomy, even if it was short-lived.
The tide crawls closer, flooding around our feet, almost like the ocean has claimed us, just like Luke has claimed me.
We’re bound now. Bound by a decision I did not make.
Even if something warm and ancient awakens in my chest, separate from the magic inside me, grief wraps around my heart anyway.
