Page 2 of Fat Enemy Mate

"Aria Penn," Elder Amelia says.

Aria steps forward. I don’t know much about her, only that she's a friend of Skylar's in her mid-twenties and a healer-in-training at the clinic. She walks to the bowl with the same wary curiosity Hannah had. She glances at Elder Amelia for reassurance, perhaps, before putting her hand over the flame across from mine.

The flame stays gold but diminishes again, any trace of blue vanishing. We all seem to pause for a moment, but after a few seconds, it is clear that it’s not going to change now.

Elder Amelia's mouth tightens, just a fraction. She checks her notes again, almost searching for another name, but we all know there aren’t any more called in this lottery. She gives Aria a small nod, and Aria steps back, but the flame returns to that same impossible height with the blue flecks.

The pack has gone completely silent now, the kind of silence that gets louder the longer it goes on. I can hear the crowd shuffling and the cry of a small child being soothed. The pack is processing. Two women, two strange flame reactions.The flame is answering me, but it doesn't match any of the women who could have matched tonight.

So what does that mean?

My wolf feels wrong, restless, and too hot. It’s a tight feeling, like I’m being pulled towards something, but there’s nothing there. I noticed it the moment the flame started rising, and it hasn’t settled. I almost wish one of those women had been a match because I feel like that’s what it needs to settle, but there’s nothing. It’s as though the magic is reaching for something, but there’s nothing there.

Elder Amelia looks to me, and the focus in her gaze goes razor sharp for a moment. I watch as something unreadable passes across her face; it might be surprise, or it might be something much cooler than that. It’s gone in a flash and replaced with her usual calm and capable demeanor.

"That's enough for now," she says quietly. "Wilf, you can lower your hand."

I lower it, but the flame doesn’t stop; it just keeps going. And even when it finally drops, it doesn’t fall the way it did with the others; it simply falls and extinguishes as though it’s given up.

The bowl is filled with dull embers, and the smoke curls up into the sky. The pack remains deadly silent.

Then a voice, from somewhere near the back, tries to break through. “Well, that’s a new one.” A nervous laugh follows that dies fast.

Nick steps forward and claps his hand on my back. I know what he’s doing; he’s rescuing the moment, the only way the alpha can. “Sometimes the magic glitches,” he says, loud enoughthat the others will hear. “Doesn’t mean anything; I’m sure it will all figure out.”

“Sure thing,” I say.

Elder Amelia hasn’t moved yet; her hand still lingers on the bowl, her eyes on me. When she does speak, it’s pitched only so that I, Nick, and Luna can hear. “Wilf, you will come and find me within the week.”

Her voice is light and even, as though everything is perfectly in control. But I see the uncertainty in her eyes and the way her hand trembles slightly as she picks the bowl up. I really don’t think she meant for me to notice that, but I nod.

The crowd is starting to come back to life as I step away from the stage, and I spot Hannah watching me from the steps with a look of polite but embarrassed sympathy. She’s got the look of someone who is glad to have been let off the hook but feels bad about it. Aria gives me a small smile as I pass, but I don’t have anything to offer either of them, so I keep walking. The crowd parts for me. It’s not unkind, but somehow that just makes it worse. I know these are good people; they always say and do the right thing. But they also don’t quite know where I fit.

And they’d be right after that display.

I hear Elder Amelia’s voice resume, talking about the newly bonded couples and their next steps. How they don’t have to remain bonded if they choose not to, which is new and thanks to the changes Nick and Luna made, but the magic is rarely wrong, and the whole pack welcomes their bonding. The band is moving into place, and as usual, it will be a great party, I’m sure. But I won’t be here.

I try to avoid him when I notice him make a move, but Connor catches up to me before I make it to the alley.

"Hey." He doesn't grab my arm, but his voice has the same effect. "Stick around for the party, you might as well."

"I'm good, thanks," I reply.

"Wilf." He tries again.

I stop, and he steps in closer so that no one else can hear. Connor's not a man who makes a fuss, and I brace myself because if he’s going to say something, he means it, and I’m not sure I’m in the mood.

"Don't do this," he says. "Don't disappear because that weird bowl did something weird."

"I'm not disappearing, I'm just going home. There's a difference." I tell him.

"Is there?" He raises a brow.

Connor's face is as unreadable as ever, but his eyes are sharp. We’ve known each other long enough, trained together, and fought together, and he knows when I’ve had enough. He can probably read my mind at this point, but I don’t owe him, or anyone else, an explanation for leaving.

"I'll see you at training on Tuesday," I say. "Tell Nick and Luna I said thanks."

"For what?" He asks.