Page 269 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"You're really good with them," she says softly, looking up at me. "But I have a feeling you weren't just visiting other patients when you disappeared."

I shake my head. I won't lie to her.

Needed to talk to someone, I sign hesitantly.

She raises an eyebrow. "Valek thought you were talking to Wade."

Don't know what to say to that. I rub the back of my head, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Did you just talk to him, or…?"

Threatened him, I admit, making a pinching gesture between my thumb and forefinger. Just a little. With… art.

"Is that why there's ink all over your palm?"

I drop my hand to my side.

"Alphas," she sighs, rolling her eyes and leaning against my arm as the rest of the pack entertains the patients. "For the record, I'm not mad. I just wish you'd taken a picture so I could see what you drew for him."

I blow a puff of air through my nose. I'll redraw it for you at home.

She grins up at me. "We should go in, too, huh? I wasn't completely joking about Whiskey's jello fight."

We should.

But I need a second.

Because the overhead lights make her eyes even brighter, and for a moment, I forget we're standing in a hospital cafeteria.

All I see is her.

I lift her hand to my masked face and press her knuckles against the spot where my mouth would be.

Her breath catches in her throat. Then she stretches up on her tiptoes, gripping my shirt for balance, and presses her lips to the center of my gaiter.

"My favorite feral alpha," she whispers against the fabric.

Even this slight pressure feels like fire.

But I close my eyes and return the kiss, as much as I can.

Chapter 56

Valek

It's four in the fucking morning and I haven't slept.

I know what's waiting behind my eyelids.

I've been staring at the ceiling for hours, forcing myself to count fucking sheep out of desperation. My hand keeps curling around nothing. Opening, closing, the tendons pulling beneath scars that predate this country, this name, this life.

Fuck this.

I throw the sheets off and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I pull on a black t-shirt and don't bother with shoes. The cold floor feels good under my bare feet.

The pack's all in the loft, in whatever nest they assembled on the floor up there after coming home from the hospital visit. They left the ladder down and Ivy reminded me I was welcome to join them.

Maybe I'd fucking sleep if I did.