Page 61 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Yep. With this baker dude who looked nothing like him. Caleb, his brother. Beta. Seemed nice, actually, which was surprising considering his brother's a literal psychopath."

"Alleged psychopath," Plague corrects from beside me.

"Nah, bro, we can drop the 'alleged' after what happened next." I grin at Ivy, warming to my tale. "So we're following them—super casual, totally not obvious⁠—"

"We were extremely obvious," Plague mutters into his tea.

"—and Valek gets in this black sedan and starts driving," I continue, ignoring Plague. "We're keeping our distance, being all tactical about it, when suddenly he floors it. Like, zero to murder in about two seconds flat."

Ivy stares.

"Right? So we're chasing him through the city, running red lights, the whole Fast and Furious experience, and he leads us up into the mountains. The road gets narrow, super twisty, and this motherfucker is driving like he was born on a racetrack."

I pause for dramatic effect, taking another sip of tea.

"And then he stops. Just dead stops in the middle of the road, blocks the whole thing with his car. We're sliding to avoid hitting him, dirt flying everywhere, and before we can even process what's happening, he's getting out of his car with a fucking switchblade."

Wraith's threatening growl rumbles through the loft.

"Yeah, that was my reaction too, big guy," I tell him. "Anyway, knife psycho stabs the front tire. We go off the road, car flips, we're rolling down the mountainside, Plague's screaming his head off⁠—"

"I did not scream."

"Dude, you totally screamed."

"You screamed. That was you."

"Was it?" I scratch my jaw. "Huh. Maybe. Either way, we end up upside down in a ditch, smoke everywhere, and I'm thinking, 'Great, this is how I die. In Canada. My ancestors are gonna be so pissed off.'"

Ivy's laughing now, even though it's a stiff, worried laugh. "You guys are insane. How did you get out?"

"I kicked out the windshield and we crawl out, covered in glass and mud and blood, and there's Valek standing there like some kind of horror movie villain. Tall, scary, silver eyes doing that creepy glowing thing⁠—"

"His eyes don't glow," Plague says.

"They absolutely glow, bro. Anyway, we fight. I grab him, he stabs me… but I kicked his fuckin' ass. Dominated him. Made him regret ever⁠—"

"That is not what happened," Plague interrupts, setting his tea down. "And he didn't stab you."

"He stabbed my coat!"

Plague rolls his eyes. "Valek is a fierce opponent. Even with both of us, he held his own. Are you already forgetting I pulled him off you when he had his blade at your throat?"

I wave him away. "Minor setback. I would've gotten the upper hand again."

Ivy's looking between us like we're both nuts, which, fair. Wraith's moved closer to the couch, his massive bulk looming in that protective way he does when he thinks someone's in danger. Even if the danger already happened and we're fine now.

Kinda sweet that he's worried about us, actually. Usually, he just has his walls up and tunes out the rest of us.

"So what happened after he threatened you?" Ivy asks.

"We went to the hospital to get checked out," Plague supplies, clearly tired of my version of events. "To make sure Whiskey didn't lose his last brain cell."

I roll my eyes. "My head was fine. It's my shoulder that was fucked up."

Ivy glances worriedly at my shoulder.

"And that's fine now, too," I add, rolling said shoulder and ignoring the sharp twinge. "See? Perfectly functional."