Page 410 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Claire's eyes narrow at me. "Barbarian," she repeats flatly, like she's gonna remember that insult later.

Sorry, Thane.

"Yep. But he'd still come see you. Every week, if that's what Wraith needs."

Her mouth presses into a thin, hard line at the name. "Don't say that in here."

"Wraith?"

She flinches.

"That's his name, ma'am. Cuz that's what you call him."

"That's what I called it," she hisses. "Because that's what it is. A demon that took my son's eyes and walking around pretending to be⁠—"

"Yeah, no. We're not doin' that."

I lean forward in the creaking chair, elbows on my knees, and let the smile drop off my face.

She blinks at me.

"See, here's the thing, Miss Claire." I glance at Ivy, who's gone very still by the door, arms crossed tighter, staring at me. She promised Wraith she wouldn't tell his mother what I know she wants to tell her.

But I didn't promise shit.

"Ivy here can't say much," I tell Claire, jerking my thumb toward my mate. "Because she promised your son she'd be nice to you, and she keeps her promises. That's the kind of person she is. She could tell you exactly what she thinks about the shit you put him through, and trust me, ma'am, you do not want to be on the receiving end of that, but she won't. Because your son asked her not to."

Claire's fingers dig into the armrests.

"Me?" I spread my hands. "All I said was I wouldn't do anything crazy."

"The venus flytrap is debatable," Ivy mutters under her breath.

She's grinning, though. I spot it before she schools her face back to behaving.

I turn back to Claire.

"So here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna come visit you. Regularly. Bring you flowers he picks out, check on your room, make sure the staff's treatin' you right. Because that's what he wants. He wants someone here lookin' out for you, even though you locked him in a basement and treated him like a monster."

Her face goes white.

"Yeah." I nod. "I know about that."

"You don't know anything⁠—"

"I know he was a little kid." My voice doesn't get louder. If anything, it gets quieter, and I watch her shrink back an inch. "I know his stepdad poured acid on his face. I know you decided it was his fault even though nothing could ever be a kid's fault. And I know he still drives hours to bring you purple flowers in the exact right shade because he remembers you like 'em."

She's gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles are bloodless.

"He remembers all the good shit," I add. "He holds onto it and tries to remember that instead, even though you gave him almost nothing good to hold."

Her mouth opens.

"So when I'm here," I continue, settling back in the chair, "you can call me fat, stupid, loud, whatever you want. But you don't get to treat Wraith like that. He loves you and it hurts him."

Claire starts picking at one of the leaves of the venus flytrap, her jaw working.

"As for me, I genuinely don't care. I'm a Marine. I've been called worse. You should hear what military alphas come up with. So far, everything you've said to me has been stock shit. You got anything more creative?"