Page 60 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
Every time I think about her standing off against those Wraith Peak wolves and defending the others without hesitation, a new kind of fierce and unyielding pride swells in me.
She didn’t have to protect them, but she did. She chose to, and I don’t take that lightly.
I roll us over gently so I’m half over her, bracing my weight carefully. My lips trail down her jaw and neck, slower than usual, as I savor every second of this.
Sera exhales softly into it, surrendering in the most satisfying way while her fingers thread into my hair and send a shiver through me.
There’s no need to rush, and I’m cherishing that far more than I ever expected to.
When we pull apart just enough to breathe, she presses her forehead against mine briefly, and something about it feels so right that I don’t want to leave the bed.
But when the need for food increases, we eventually get up. While I cook breakfast, she sits on a stool with an unreadable expression, like she’s thinking too much. After a while, she speaks up.
“You don’t have to keep proving anything.”
“Proving?” I question, lifting a brow while I plate the food. “Who said I’m proving anything?”
She goes quiet, like she can’t think of something suitable enough to say, then she gives in and accepts her portion.
While we eat, I mentally organize the day in between light conversation, remembering the various pack tasks that need my attention. But when Sera stands from her seat after, she sways, and while subtle, I catch it.
I rise immediately, reaching out to her.
“I’m fine,” she says automatically, pressing her fingers to her temple. “I’m a little off, that’s all.”
“You said that the other night, too.”
“I’m just tired…and a bit lightheaded.”
Concern moves through me immediately, and I gently support her by the arm. “You pushed yourself too hard at the festival, and you’re likely still catching up.”
She nods slowly, not pulling away as I guide her to the living room. “I don’t usually draw that much energy so quickly.”
“Then we won’t push today,” I tell her, deciding without hesitation.
Sera looks up at me as she sits on the sofa, blinking through her vague disorientation. “You don’t have to cancel things because of me.”
“I want to,” I hum, sitting on the edge of the couch. “We’ll take it easy today, and maybe go back to the water if you’re up for it.”
She hesitates at first, like she isn’t used to anyone rearranging their schedule around her well-being. Then, she manages to relax her shoulders, and she nods.
So that’s exactly what we do.
After lazing around for the morning, we head down to the shore close to the house despite the overcast day. The tide is rough as it crashes against the sand and rock, but the air is fresh and vaguely cool, as if it washes away the lingering grogginess of not doing much.
Sera carries her shoes while we go, letting the shallow waves lap over her feet. Before she can get too far with them, I smoothly relinquish them, earning myself a pointed look. Though she smiles instead of reprimanding me, and we continue until she finds a suitable spot.
I sit next to her in the sand, close without crowding her, and when it feels right, I reach for her hand. As our fingers lace together, she leans lightly against my shoulder, and it sends another wave of satisfaction through me.
We stay like that for a while as we watch the tide move, slowly starting to creep back in again.
“This is easier,” she says quietly, breaking the relative silence. “Being here…just us.”
Something in me softens, understanding very well. Out here, there’s no scrutiny or whispers. There’s no feeling thepressure of the pack or of my dad watching me like I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
“I’m done bending for them,” I say before I can think twice. “For expectations that weren’t mine to begin with.”
I feel as she shifts enough to glance up at me, and her voice reaches me in a gentle brush. “But you still care about what they think.”
