Page 435 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Okay," Ivy says from the passenger seat, twisting to look up over her shoulder. "Round two. How are we feeling?"

Wraith's arm is draped over the back of her seat and across her chest, his scarred hand resting near her lap. He's been sitting like that the entire drive, folded into the back seat sideways, because my new car is more compact and he still refuses to sit anywhere he can't reach her.

He signs with his free hand.

Fine.

"You're not fine, you're nervous."

He tilts his hand back and forth. OK. Both.

She laughs and pats his forearm, then looks down at her phone again, which has been going off for a solid minute.

"What's going on?" I ask, looking over at her screen. "Why are there so many fucking pictures?"

"Shadow," Ivy says happily, showing us both.

It's a photo of Plague sitting on the couch, leaning back with his spine perfectly straight, frozen like a statue. Shadow is in loaf form on his chest, eyes closed and face perfectly content, shedding cat hair all over his gray sweater. Valek is leaning over the back of the couch, scratching behind the cat's ears with two fingers, grinning.

Plague is staring directly into the camera with the empty eyes of a hostage.

WHISKEY

SHE'S LOOKIN FUCKIN TAME, BRO!

He hasn't moved in 40 minutes! NEW RECORD

I mean, she bites him every time he moves, so that's probably why

BUT STILL

Ivy makes a happy little noise beside me.

"She is cute," I admit.

"Still pretending you didn't want a pet?" Ivy teases me. "I've seen how much you spend on freeze-dried treats for her."

"She was a stray. She deserves good shit," I grumble, dragging a hand through my hair and probably fucking it up after I finally managed to tame it into an acceptable style. Ivy still won't let me cut it.

"I have the sweetest alphas," Ivy says happily, reaching up to help.

She makes it worse.

Oh, well.

I get out first and hold the door for her, then wait while my brother extracts himself from my back seat, joint by joint. He straightens to his full height and rolls his shoulders.

And he doesn't reach for his hood.

I stare at him.

It's hanging loosely behind his neck. He's let it fall down before when he's out, provided no one else is really around, but I wasn't expecting him to do that at my parents' house.

He glances up at the house, then at Ivy as she starts leading the way to the house, and I can see him reconsidering for a second. Then he starts walking up the path with his bare face turned up into the porch light.

The door opens before we even reach the porch. Mom comes out, propping the door open on her hip, drying her hands on a dish towel.

"You're early!" she says excitedly, hugging Ivy first.