Page 131 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Shall we sit?" she asks.

The pack arranges itself around the living room with the instinctive formation of animals circling a threat.

Thane takes the armchair across from Eliza, who claims the center of the couch. Ray and Daphne flank her with their tablets. Plague leans against the bookshelf with his arms crossed. Whiskey drops into a chair and manages to look casual even though he almost falls out of it and his knee is bouncing fast enough to register on the Richter scale. Valek takes the wall near the door.

And Wraith sits beside me on the loveseat, close enough that our thighs touch. I pull his hand into my lap and wrap my hands around it, leaning on his shoulder.

Daphne, who has been eyeing us like she doubts we're actually together, scribbles something down on her tablet.

"Let me be direct," Eliza begins, crossing her legs and balancing her tablet on one knee. "Last night was a category five public relations event. We have three separate situations that need to be addressed. Wraith tearing his mask off. The attack on Wade Kelly. And the revelation that Ivy Byrne—Wade Kelly's missing fiancée—is the Ghosts' scent-matched omega."

She ticks each item off on her fingers like she's reading a grocery list.

Thane speaks up first. "Wraith acted in⁠—"

"Self-defense. Yes, I know. The league has reviewed the footage and agrees." Eliza's tone is clipped but not unkind. "Wade struck Wraith in the face with his stick. On camera. That's clear-cut. The mauling, however…" She pauses, choosing her words. "The mauling is more complicated, from an optics standpoint."

Wraith's hand tightens around mine.

"The footage shows a feral alpha savaging another player's neck and shoulder severely enough to require emergency medical intervention," Eliza continues. "While the league has ruled it as a proportional response to an active attack, the public perception is... divided."

"Divided how?" Plague asks from the bookshelf.

Daphne taps her tablet and reads without looking up. "Thirty-eight percent of surveyed fans support Wraith's actions as self-defense. Thirty-three percent believe he should be permanently suspended. The remaining are… well." She hesitates. "Making memes."

"The memes are fire," Whiskey offers helpfully.

Thane shoots him a paint-stripping look.

"The bigger issue," Eliza presses on, pointedly ignoring Whiskey with the tired sigh of a woman who's entirely used to him, "is Wraith's feral classification. The league has tolerated his status because his on-ice behavior, while aggressive, has remained within acceptable parameters. And it matters that the fans do enjoy it. Last night pushed well beyond those parameters. There are board members calling for a formal review of his eligibility."

My stomach drops.

Wraith looks dissociated again, his eyes flat and dark. I press my knee harder against his.

"What does a formal review look like?" Thane asks, his voice carefully controlled.

"Psychiatric and medical evaluation. Possibly a probationary period with restricted play. A muzzle, perhaps, and a guarantee he won't unmask himself on the ice again." Eliza meets his eyes. "Or permanent suspension, depending on the findings."

A fucking muzzle?

"He was attacked," I say immediately. Every head in the room turns to me. "Wade hit him in the face with a stick. Wraith's mask was already soaked with blood and he couldn't breathe. He removed it because he was suffocating, not because he wanted to scare anyone. And Wade provoked the physical altercation by making verbal threats."

Eliza's eyes study me. "What kind of verbal threats?"

I feel Wraith go rigid beside me.

"Wade recognized my scent on Wraith. I know Wade. I was with him for over a year. I know exactly what he would have done and said if he smelled his escaped omega on another alpha. And we could all see he was yelling at Wraith on the ice before the… stuff… hit the fan."

Don't get profane, Ivy, I tell myself. Because I want to drop words like shit and fuck and fucking fuck FUCKING FUCK so badly it hurts.

Eliza nods. "What do you think happened?"

"He would have taunted him. Made comments about…" My throat tightens. I force through it. "About what he did to me. During our relationship. He would want to hurt Wraith as much as possible."

Beside me, Wraith rumbles with a soft growl.

Which tells me everything I need to know about whether I'm right.