Page 322 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"I know I don't have to." I lean across the center console and press my lips to his shoulder, since I can't reach his face. "I want to. Stay."

He huffs through his nose and his eyes lighten a little.

I grab my bag, check my reflection in the rearview—dark circles, messy bun, no makeup, the picture of a woman who's scared and worried for her mate—and push open the driver's door.

I cross the lot at an almost-jog and head straight for the reception desk when I get inside.

The woman behind the counter looks up before I reach her.

"Hi," I say, slightly breathless as I reach the counter, lifting my bag onto it. "I'm here to check in for Wraith Belmont?"

Her whole face changes. "Wraith? Is he… is he here?" She leans forward to look around and behind me, as if the giant alpha could possibly be hiding behind an omega my size. "He left so quickly last time. We were worried. I was worried."

"I know," I murmur, reaching into my bag for his insurance card and ID. "He's in the car. He isn't feeling well."

Her expression softens with guilt and she makes a quiet tsk sound. "I know, hon." She takes the cards from me. I'm pleasantly surprised she doesn't stare at the picture on his ID. "Well, you can reassure him his usual doctor is in this time."

"Good. That's… good."

She starts typing, her eyes on the screen, but she keeps glancing up at me. The same quick, assessing looks I'd give a stranger who showed up claiming a connection to someone I cared about.

"And you are…?" she asks carefully.

"Ivy Byrne. His mate," I say, wondering for a second if she's the one I talked to about the leak that came from this office.

Her fingers stop on the keyboard and she openly stares at me. "His…" She blinks rapidly, her eyes going glassy. "Oh."

I watch awkwardly, not sure how to react other than lifting my bag back onto my shoulder. Because it feels like everyone is just shocked I'm his mate, and it makes my stomach twist every time.

Guess she doesn't follow hockey news.

She nods, swallowing. "He deserves it. He's the sweetest alpha I've ever met. You take good care of him, okay? Really good care of him."

"I will," I say quietly.

She squares her shoulders and starts typing again. Faster this time, like she's channeling her emotions through her fingertips. "I'm putting him straight through, okay? No waiting room. Room three is open and it's the biggest, he won't feel so cramped."

"Thank you."

"And I'll let the nursing staff know." She pauses, fixing me with a look over the top of her reading glasses. "He doesn't do well with new people. Except for you, I guess." She winks at me, passing back the cards. "Ivy. Such a pretty name for a pretty girl. He's lucky."

"Nah." I take the cards back, managing a smile. "I'm the lucky one."

Getting Wraith from the SUV to the building isn't easy.

He opens the passenger door before I reach it, already swinging his legs out, but he stops with his boots on the asphalt and his hands braced on his knees, head down, dark hair falling over his masked face.

"They're putting us straight in a room," I promise him. "Your doctor's back. The receptionist made sure I knew that."

His head lifts.

M-A-R-G-A-R-E-T? he asks hopefully.

Okay, so that was her I'd talked to about the leak that horrible fucking day. "Yeah, actually. She knew you. She was nice."

He lets out a soft exhale, his eyes crinkling slightly. He still looks fucking terrified, but he unfolds himself successfully from the SUV, adjusting his hood and shoving both scarred hands deep into the front pocket of his hoodie.

The most imposing alpha I've ever seen, trying to make himself smaller.