Page 10 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
I haven’t felt anything remotely like that in months.
Lost in how that thought startles me, I only realize where he’s taking me when I catch a glimpse of a bed through the open door at the end of a short hallway.
My whole body clenches immediately as alarms ring in my mind.
No…no, no, no…
But before I can even get a sound out, he sets me down gently on the edge of the bed, not letting his hands linger a moment longer than they need to. Instead, he pulls back, putting up a placating hand, as if ready to move in and steady me if necessary.
“Easy…” he says, watching as I jerk back the moment I have the chance. He sighs, expression shifting to something not quite offended or angry, but closer to thoughtful, like he’s considering his every move and word. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He already did, just not in a physical sense.
When I don’t say anything, he just stands there watching me for a moment, and as much as I don’t want to focus on anything other than my anger, I take the time to really look at him.
His shoulders are broad, and his body has obviously been well-defined through years of training. Despite the assertive, dominant air exuding from him, the slight curl to his blonde hair makes him look almost boyish in comparison to the rest of him. His eyes, watching my every move, are softer now, letting me see just how blue they really are.
The longer I look at him, the harder it is to glance away.
He’s…beautiful.
Damn, Sera. Focus.
Finally, he breaks the silence, and his voice reaches me so deeply that I swear I can feel its vibrations inside me. “I realize this might be a bit backward—me bringing you here before telling you my name. But I’m Luke Rourke. The Alpha here.”
I gathered that much, at least.
Still, I don’t say anything. Instead, I move back a little further on the bed, putting as much distance between us as I can.
With a quick scan of the room, I immediately know it isn’t his. It’s too simple and impersonal to be anything but a guest room, with a double bed, a small wooden dresser, and a window overlooking the woods outside. The woven rug on the floor and what looks like a handmade macrame piece hanging on one wall look just intentional enough to be welcoming.
The realization settles in slowly. He didn’t take me to his bed, and he didn’t lock the door behind us. He’s not even standing there like he’s trying to block the exit from me.
If anything, he just looks concerned.
“I need to know what happened and why they were after you,” he says, surprisingly calm and gentle for his size. “But first, can you tell me your name?”
The part of me that’s used to complying and doing whatever I need to just to survive is more than ready to say it, but I stop myself before I can, hesitating.
If I speak, that means deciding how much I can, or should, reveal to him. With magic being forbidden, I can’t just talk about it freely. I don’t know how he’d react in the first place, let alone what he’d do with me if he found out.
“I won’t send you back to them, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he says, words lighter than expected.
A stitch of irritation in my chest forces the words out before I can stop them. “You can’t promise that.”
“I can, and I will.”
My teeth clench together despite the ache that exists in every inch of my body now. “You’re planning on paying them.”
“I’m compensating them to avoid bloodshed,” he corrects, as if that makes a difference.
“For me.”
He doesn’t even flinch. “Yes. To get you away from them.”
The admission jostles me on the inside, and more anger pulses in my gut, so sudden that I forget all about my exhaustion for a moment.
“I’m not something you can buy,” I snap at him, not caring about how gentle his handling of me has been so far.
