Page 329 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Fuck."

Wraith growls.

"Not you." I strain to reach to pick up my phone without letting go of his arm. "Never you."

His gaze follows every movement, the muscles in his forearms tensing beneath my hand at the scraping sound of my glass phone screen grinding against the rough concrete.

I switch to facial recognition.

The screen unlocks. I open Valek's contact and stab at the message box. The keyboard jumps under my thumb while I try to type.

IVY

ple as d cone

"Fuck."

Wraith's breathing gets louder. His head turns slowly toward the corner of the building as tires crunch over gravel somewhere in the parking lot.

I grip his arm.

"Stay with me."

His eyes flash back to mine as I brace my wrist against my bent knee and type one letter at a time.

IVY

val plea se come. hurr y. gordon med icla center

I hit send before I can fuck it up worse.

It hangs for a long time—my signal fucking sucks here—then delivers.

Thank the gods. I can't exactly go in there and ask for their wifi password. I can't leave Wraith. Not even for a second.

I shove the phone back into my pocket and turn back to him.

"Look at me. Please, Misha."

Nothing.

I rub my thumbs over the backs of his scarred hands.

His shoulders jerk.

"We need to get to the SUV. It's parked right there." I angle my head toward the front lot to remind him the correct direction is there and not the woods further back. But he isn't looking. "You can get in the back seat with the tinted windows."

A deep rumble builds behind his hands and one blue eye appears between his fingers.

"Come with me."

I hold out my hand, palm up.

He stares at it.

The medical center's ventilation system kicks on above us with a metallic clunk. Wraith jolts, a snarl tearing out of his throat, and his hand strikes flat against the wall as he starts to rise.

I stand with him, one hand locked in his and the other braced against his forearm. His body sways when he reaches his full height, his hands dropping to his sides.