Page 442 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

THANE

At least you're wearing a helmet…

I grin so hard my face hurts.

"Worth getting in trouble?" Ivy teases.

"Hell yeah, it's worth it."

Every single time, worth it.

Chapter 93

Epilogue: Wraith

Iadjust the straps of my face cage with my scarred fingers, checking the fit without checking the mirror for help.

I've spent my entire hockey career changing with my back to the mirrors along the wall in the locker room, and I'm not about to change that tonight.

Even if I am slightly curious.

Other than goalies, alphas don't usually wear headgear on the ice. We heal quickly. We don't need as much protection as betas, and the suits that own our teams think it ruins the aesthetic, but Thane's father managed to pull some strings since it's disability accommodation.

And my aesthetic is fucking ruined anyway.

It was Ivy's idea first, and Plague agreed. She said we needed to protect my "cute" face.

She's insane.

But I stopped questioning it a long time ago.

Whiskey came up with the design when I was worried it would end up feeling like a muzzle. He drew so hard on the napkin at the diner the pack has been to every night for the past week, the pen went through and into the table, which is now permanently etched with the word BADASS.

The server wasn't happy.

"Bro. BRO." Whiskey appears behind me in the mirror, already in full gear, eyes huge. "You look sick. You look like the final boss of hockey."

I huff and adjust a strap.

"You gonna look?"

I glance warily at him.

He bats his fucking eyelashes at me.

I've never looked into one on purpose. The river was different. It was dark, the water moved, there wasn't a giant overhead light on it.

My heart thuds hard enough that I feel it in my teeth.

When Whiskey gives up and screws off across the room to try to sneak up behind Plague to smack his ass, I turn slowly and lift my eyes.

A monster looks back at me.

I wait for the punch to the gut.

The urge to put my fist through the glass.

It doesn't come.