Page 41 of Plus-Size Bullied Mate

“Hunter,” Mom begins with a quiet breath as she sets her cup down. “I want to ask you something, and I want you to hear it as a real question, not as me being unkind about her.”

Something in me hesitates, vaguely worried about where that might lead this conversation and how I’ll react, but I pull myself in and nod.

She takes a moment to gather her words before she asks, “Are you certain this is a genuine bond and not some internalized guilt cropping up?”

I sit with that for a moment because it deserves a real answer, not a reactive one.

“No. I’ve considered that, but I assure you, this is real,” I say honestly, feeling no need to sugarcoat it. “The guilt exists from not doing anything to make her life here easier before, yet it’s more than that. I’ve felt this before I could even truly understand what it meant, and I’m not going to pretend like it isn’t anymore.”

Cole nods slowly while he mulls it over. “Even so, there’s the question of the pack.”

Something in my chest tightens all over again, making me bristle.

“Her name still carries weight, bond or no,” he continues. “Not everyone was satisfied with the announcement or the ceremony. Most are relieved to know their alpha has chosen someone, but that doesn’t mean they’ve accepted her. Several senior members are concerned about what her position means for the future of this pack. About whether the symbolism of the alpha’s mate being—”

“Careful,” I mutter, unsure of how much I can listen to before my patience slips from me.

Cole’s eyes meet mine steadily, and he continues, “About whether the history between her family and this pack creates instability. That’s a legitimate concern for a functioning community, Hunter. I’m not making it an attack on the girl.”

“The instability isn’t coming from Tessa,” I tell them, standing up since sitting feels wrong for this. I move to the window to look at the woods while I keep my voice even. “It’s coming from people who’ve spent over a decade directing their grief at someone who had no hand in it. That’s what needs to be resolved, not her position. Not Tessa herself.”

“You may be right,” Cole admits, exhaling deeply. “But right and manageable are not always the same thing.”

“I’m aware.” I turn back to face them, and to let them see that I’m serious about this. “I’ve made the decision, and it’s done. I don’t need permission or doubt. I need support for a process that’s going to take time and requires the pack to see that this is settled. It needs to come from people they trust.”

Mom is quiet for a moment, then she looks at her coffee cup, and something in her shoulders shifts fractionally, as if she has reached a concession, she’s not quite ready to name yet. Cole looks at me for a long moment with those eyes that have seen several decades of pack politics and difficult decisions, along with the specific aftermath of both.

They both know what I’m insinuating and asking of them.

“All right,” he says with a note of finality.

There’s no enthusiasm in it, but it isn’t refusal either. From Cole, that’s all I need to hear.

Chapter 15 - Tessa

I don’t sleep well in his bed, but that isn’t anything new. It’s just odd and makes me feel even more out of place.

I haven’t slept well since this started, and having him next to me while my head and my heart are at odds doesn’t help. The bed smells like him, the room is organized but most certainly his, and I feel like the one component that shouldn’t be there.

It felt more like a reflex to argue about sleeping in the same room as him when we first returned to the house, but Hunter wouldn’t hear it. He acknowledged that it would be strange at first, but for both of our sakes, he said that sharing a bed is the only option.

I know why that is, but I want to pretend like I don’t.

With the bond fully in place after a severe lapse in judgment, he’s hanging by a precarious thread, as all freshly mated males do. They can’t help the instinct to keep their mate safe and out of reach from anyone else who might try to contest their claim, and those volatile reactions become even worse.

Hunter has been tenser than usual, and I feel every moment of it, but I let it be.

Before, the pull between us was something I could pass off as irrational or not worth my time. It was just something I could intellectualize and keep at arm’s length. Now it’s locked into place, and there’s no denying its existence.

It has me in an even tougher position, since I can choose to be angry about the decisions he made and validate my own resistance as much as I want. But I can’t think myself out of what my body knows now.

I spent so long clinging to the crystal clear fact that I didn’t need anyone, and I certainly didn’t need the complexities that came with being someone’s mate, but all that careful rationalizing means nothing now. I can’t outrun it when he’s a part of me after everything.

We let the bond take root, but that doesn’t mean anything else has changed. We both admitted that much.

The question I keep returning to is whether he’s different. If he’s genuinely, truly different from the alpha-to-be I used to know.

I’m not completely blind to the evidence.