Page 349 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Valek pauses, his eyes narrowing. "That sounds suspiciously like pity."

It isn’t.

He folds his arms over his wet chest. The movement pulls at the bruises I put there, dark marks on his ribs and throat.

More guilt twists through me.

I force my eyes back to his face.

You choose to be good, I sign. That matters more. Anyone can be good when it’s easy. You do it when it goes against your instincts.

Valek doesn’t move, or even blink.

The river runs cold around us, carrying pine needles and bits of ash downstream. His expression is completely empty, but his eyes drop to where my hands hover above the water.

I wait.

His jaw flexes once.

Then he shoves me again, hard.

I stumble backward with a startled growl, water surging around my waist.

"Don’t be a sap on me," he mutters.

I shove him back.

He grins.

“Boys?”

We both turn. Ivy’s head pokes through the tent flap. Her damp dark hair falls around her face, and one bare shoulder is visible when she leans farther out, her skin still glistening.

“I managed to text the pack,” she says. “They know we’re alive and Whiskey has been ordered not to steal a helicopter.”

Her eyes travel over both of us standing half naked in the river.

"You can join me in the tent if you're done brawling," she teases.

Valek looks at me, arching an eyebrow.

“Well?” he asks. “Are we?”

I’m already moving.

He laughs behind me.

The water fights every step, dragging at my pants until I reach the bank and climb out. Ivy disappears into the tent with a delighted little sound. I strip off my soaked pants outside, then duck through the flap, keeping my head down instinctively.

Ivy is already stretched across the blankets naked in the soft golden glow from the lantern, one arm behind her head, the other resting over her stomach.

Waiting for us.

My entire body goes rigid.

Valek ducks through behind me, leaving his pants behind, too, and immediately walks into my back.

"For fuck’s sake, Wraith."