Forced Plus-Size Mate (Silver Meadows Wolves #6)

Chapter 4 - Body

Something drew me from the mountain.

Usually, when I’m with the kids, nothing can distract me. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy the work so much—it captivates and enriches me. There’s no better feeling in the world than having the trust of the youngsters and teaching them about the world.

But after a day or so, I find it hard to concentrate. There is something on the wind, a sound, a scent. It brings painful memories to me, but also a sense of anticipation and hope.

I manage to get through the short trip without neglecting my duties, but it isn’t easy. When we turn for home, I race down the mountain, taking the fastest route even if it is also the most dangerous. Luckily, my hardened little pups consider it to be great fun, and all of them rise to the challenge.

As I drop each of them at home, my unease grows.

Something is not right. I feel like I’m being stalked.

I’m getting out of my car at Shelley’s when I catch the faintest hint of a scent. It’s so light that at first, I think it’s only a memory. I can barely catch it. It’s just a hint of cinnamon and vanilla on the wind.

No. It can’t be.

I’m about to head inside and look for Bae—well, anyone, really—when a couple of guys come through the front doors, talking loudly as they head for the parking lot.

“So, did you hear the witches are back?”

“Yeah. Crazy times, hey?”

“Do you know any of them?”

“No, they left when I was just a kid. My mom does, though.”

“I heard Decker has a wasp up his ass about it.”

“And I heard Jen was throwing them a welcome party.”

“Looks like shit’s about to get complicated.”

“You got that right.”

I stand in the shadows, completely frozen to the spot. I can’t move—I can’t even think.

The tiny thread of scent comes back to me. It’s so faint, so far away, but very, very real.

Cinnamon, vanilla, and sugar sprinkled over hot, buttery cake.

My mouth starts to water, and my body aches all over. The memories are so strong, I can almost feel her in my arms.

Amanda!

I get back in my car and drive back to the camping ground. The strong wind blowing down the mountain tops washes the air clean, and I almost lose the scent completely.

This is why I didn’t smell it on the way down. The wind is too strong.

For a few moments, I stand at the edge of the forest. My heart is full of regret and a desperate need to talk to her, to explain—and the selfish desire to just look at her, be near her, listen to her speak.

Am I being selfish? Am I going after her because I think that’s what she needs, or just to assuage my guilt?

The conflict rages in my chest as I keep staring into the absolute darkness of the forest. I want to do the right thing— for her. I’ve hurt her too much to do it again, especially if my motives are entirely selfish.

It doesn’t matter. I can’t stop myself, I just can’t!

I tear off my clothes and shift, racing into the forest. Lifting my nose high, I catch the scent and follow it, the thick, lovely sweetness completely overwhelming my senses. Racing faster and faster, my sense of the world around me completely bleeds away. The only thing that is truly real to me is the scent of my mate.

I doubted it before. I even thought I didn’t have a mate at all. But every day without her has been pure torture, and no woman has ever captured me the way she does. She’s the only one I’ll ever love.

The soul of my wolf agrees so wholeheartedly that a great howl rises in my chest and pours out of my throat, a sound of triumph, love, and hope. Further up the mountains, I hear the howl returned to me, an echo of shared joy from other members of the pack.

They don’t know what I’m howling about, only that I’m announcing my happiness and freedom to the mountain and they share it.

Hopefully, my next chest-ripping howl isn’t one of melancholy and pain.

Suddenly, the scent hits me again, even more strongly. It’s fresh and thick, like someone taking a cake out of the oven right in front of me. My tongue lolls out of my mouth to soak it up, and I slow down so I can pace the tree line without being seen.

In the center of the circle, thirteen witches sit in a circle around Lucy. They seem to be arguing, but I can’t quite make out the words. I prick up my keen ears, but too many of them are talking at once. All I can pick up for sure is that they are all angry and scared.

Except Lucy. She’s rock-solid.

Where’s Amanda?

Then someone stands up, and the shock hits me like a physical blow. I stagger a little, keeping my eyes locked on her as she enters the circle to kneel across from Lucy.

The excitement makes me want to howl again, but I also have a lump in my throat. Suddenly, I’m nervous, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this unsure about anything.

Maybe I should just go. Tuck my tail between my legs and bail. Why would she want to see me again?

Even if that might be the smartest thing to do, I can’t do it. I feel like a selfish asshole… but I can’t leave.

I start to tremble a little as I focus all my senses on her. I have to soak up her scent, imprint her beautiful image on my eyes.

It’s been so long since I saw her, but I remember every single detail.

Without even realizing it, I start to creep forward. My ears and nose are focused on Amanda, every single one of my senses locked on as if I’m stalking prey. I creep slowly along, my paws softly pressing against the ground as I keep my belly low to the ground.

The girls are still arguing, and over it all, I hear Amanda’s voice becoming shrill.

I’m close to the circle when a frantic sensation seizes me. It’s an echo of the anxiety I felt on the mountain, but much more intense. I’m being tugged towards the women by a powerful force outside myself.

Was it even my choice to come here?

The shift comes over me suddenly, my wolf dissipating and leaving my human self standing stupidly just outside the circle of witches. A light breeze teases the smoke from Lucy’s fire, drifting it towards me so it curls around my body and draws me even closer.

“Amanda…” I whisper.

She’s staring at me with her deep, sky-blue eyes. I’ve never forgotten the unique shade, the hint of green that shimmers through the iris, making me think of tropical pools ringed with white sand. Her long, thick hair falls to her waist, shaded a warm mahogany and glinting with hints of garnet.

She’s clearly grown up, but in some ways, she hasn’t changed at all. Even though she’s wrapped in a heavy coat, I can see the swell of her huge breasts, soft waist, and ample hips. Just thinking about the luscious playground under those clothes makes me hard, and my fingers twitch, begging to sink into those delicious curves again.

Memories of lying in bed wrapped around her fly through my mind, and I can feel every inch of her perfect, soft skin caressing my own as we tangle together, lost in the world that only exists between the two of us.

Her face is still round, but her cheeks are more defined, and she has a set of cute worry lines etched across her forehead. Her mouth is exactly as I remember—a sweet red bow, juicy and sweet and begging to be kissed.

When I see her lip tremble, I want to rush towards her, wrap my arms around her beautiful, soft curves, and cover her face with soft kisses. But the hint of fear in the air keeps me in my place.

Is she afraid of me?

“Amanda,” Lucy says in a hard voice. “I think you know more about this than you’re telling me.”

Amanda’s eyes flick away from me to Lucy. Her face is hard, even as her eyes fill with tears. Lucy looks sympathetic but still has challenge in her demeanor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lucy asks.

“Because I didn’t tell anyone!” Amanda cries, covering her face. “I couldn’t! I just had to get out of Silver Meadows.”

“What are you talking about?” one of the other witches asks. “Are you telling me we left Silver Meadows for your own selfish reasons and not for the good of the coven?”

“Knock it off,” an older lady growls. “Amanda has been our head priestess for a long time, and rightly so. I enjoyed our time in the wilderness, and I didn’t hear any of you complaining at the time.”

“But now we get to marry wolves?” a younger one says eagerly. “Wolves like this one, and Bae, and Rider?”

“What?” I blurt out, feeling reality land on me again. “What are we talking about?”

“The witches lost their magic,” Lucy explains. “We performed a ritual to understand why, and it showed me that love had been denied and magic was failing because of it. I was also shown that witches and wolves have come together in the past to strengthen each other’s magic. The bond is good for both.”

The full impact of this news begins to sink in. Amanda has covered her face, and when she moves her hands away, my heart breaks to see the tears running down her face.

“You and me?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

“No!” she cries. “It can’t be. I won’t let it!”

“Then cast the runes,” Lucy says, her voice hard. “You don’t believe my intuition or the spell, so cast the runes for yourself and see what they say.”

Amanda tugs open the small leather sack and smooths out the snow next to her to make a flat surface. She gathers the runes in her hands and whispers to them before scattering them across the ground.

She makes a small cry of disbelief, then picks them up and tries again. On the third throw, she shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself.

“I don’t know much about this, but it looks to me like they are coming up the same every single time,” I remark.

“You got that right,” Lucy mutters. “Amanda, are you okay?”

“No,” she gasps. “Not by a long shot… no way.”

“Can I help?” the older witch asks.

Amanda shakes her head, but Lucy waves her over. “Come on, Nell. I think Amanda could use your help.”

“So, did I actually bring myself here, or was this a spell?” I ask nobody in particular.

The witches around the circle speak at random, some of them saying “free will” and others answering “spell.”

“It was both,” Lucy said. “Often, our destiny aligns with intent. I get the feeling your soul, and Amanda’s, have been calling to each other for a very long time. On some level, you were aware of her presence and wanted to come to her. When the spell opened the way for us to see the solution, it simply showed you where to go.”

Nell has one arm around Amanda’s shoulders, and the women whisper quietly to each other. I don’t like seeing Amanda so upset, and it’s even worse that I’m the cause of it.

“Did you really leave because of me?” I ask her gingerly.

Amanda looks up at me, her eyes blazing electric-blue.

“I left to immerse myself in my calling!” she snaps. “I didn’t want to be distracted from my path by immature little boys who don’t even know what they want. Don’t you dare stand there, displaying yourself like you’re God’s gift to all women, Body Andrews! I know you, I never forgot you, and I don’t have to believe a single word you say. I also don’t have to explain myself to the likes of you!”

The words sting, and they should. I lower my head, unable to meet her gaze. A couple of other witches come forward to comfort Amanda. Some of them stare at me with outright hostility.

“What are we going to do next, Amanda?” Nell asks.

“You know the result of the spell,” Lucy points out.

“I might believe that wolves and witches should join their lines,” Amanda answers. “But I will not believe I have to marry Body! I can’t!”

She gathers up the runes again while fear and hope collide inside me. I’m so confused, I don’t even know what I’m hoping for.

All I’ve wanted for so many years is to have her back in my arms… but do I still want that if she isn’t happy?