Page 398 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Hey, you two lovebirds could even go," I say, looking between Plague and Valek. Plague stares blankly at me, mid-spray with his stingy antibiotic spray. "Since you've been makin' forlorn heart eyes at each other since yesterday's game."

"We have not," Plague mutters, going back to bandaging my various wounds with unnecessary focus.

Valek's lips curve. "Of course. We'll take care of her."

"Are you sure?" Thane asks hopefully, turning away from the freezer. He's already pressing an ice pack to his head.

Valek nods. "Of course."

I look at Wraith, who's watching the cat with soft eyes. He's wanted a cat forever. Specifically this one. And now we've got her.

Well. Valek's got her. But same difference.

"Hey," I say to Wraith. "Don't worry. I'll still ride up to Cedarbrook to check on your evil mom. Val's the clear favorite here anyway. He can be on kitty duty."

Wraith sighs, hard. Just don't do anything crazy.

"I won't, bro." I grin innocently at him, wincing as Plague sprays antibiotic shit on the scratch on my cheek. "Just as soon as we make sure our villain cat is purr-fectly healthy."

Plague sprays some extra just to spite me.

Chapter 83

Valek

The pet store is, frankly, disgusting.

Plague looks like he wants to burn it to the ground.

I push the cart. He refuses to touch it, and I've learned I can herd him with it by driving too close. I find this deeply amusing, but I don't dare tell him, because telling Plague a thing amuses me is the fastest way to make him stop doing it.

IVY

Get the good litter not the cheap clay one it tracks EVERYWHERE

And a scratching post. tall one. she seems like a climber

We're about halfway there, btw!

I send off a black heart emoji and turn my phone screen toward Plague. "You heard the lady."

"She's right." He plucks a bag of litter off the shelf without breaking stride, looks carefully at the ingredients, and puts it back with a slight grimace. He selects a different one that's three times the price.

Perhaps the pack should have named the cat Lucky instead of Shadow. She's about to live better than most humans.

"Are they getting closer to Cedarbrook?" he asks.

"Yes. Whiskey sent a photo a few minutes ago."

I pull it up.

Ivy on the back of Wraith's SUV's tailgate, boots dangling, holding up a giant bag of gas station gummies. Wraith's massive shadow looming nearby with an energy drink in hand, hood up, part of his scarred face still visible. He's eyeing the camera warily, but not hiding from it.

Someone needs to tell the shy alpha his hoodies cover everything but the part he's worried about.

Behind them, Hogzilla.

And Whiskey's thumb over half the lens as he grins at the camera, photobombing the entire bottom left corner of it, throwing a middle finger with the other hand.