Page 374 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Full audio." Thane nods grimly. "Everything Wade said to Wraith on the ice. Every word about Ivy. The taunting. The threats. All of it."

Whiskey stares at him. "And is that good or bad for us?"

"It reframes the entire incident," Thane explains.

"BRO. That doesn't answer my question."

Thane holds up a hand. "Just wait a second. It's good." He turns to me. "Wraith's response reads more as protective alpha instinct than aggression in this context. It's spreading like wildfire."

"Who leaked it?" I ask, swallowing.

Thane's jaw flexes. "I… think it may have been my father, based on his tone. I just got off the phone with him. Didn't admit to anything, but… yeah. I think it was him. Think he did it for us."

Whiskey rakes his hands through his hair, letting out a whoosh of breath. "Whoa, dude. Do you think it's enough?"

"I don't know," Thane admits. "His team's already claiming it was edited."

For a split second, I'm back in the tunnels. The dark. The cold concrete. The version of me that had no choice but to make herself invisible because that was the only way to survive.

That girl got me here.

But she's not the one who gets to answer this.

I close my eyes, thinking.

Wade's family is coming for me. Lawyers and depositions and courtrooms where I'll have to relive everything while alphas and betas in suits pick apart my trauma like a science project.

But they can't edit a livestream.

"Give me your phone," I say to Thane.

Thane blinks. "What?"

"I'm going live."

"Ivy—"

"A recorded video can be accused of editing and rehearsing," I say, holding my hand out for the phone Thane's gripping in his hand. "A livestream can't. They want to call me a liar? Fine. Let them watch me tell the truth in real time, to a real audience who can actually ask me questions."

Whiskey sets his cereal box down.

"Where?" Thane asks.

"Here." I gesture at the couch and the warm, soft light coming in through the windows. "Right here."

None of them seem sure about this, but Thane hands over his phone and Plague helps me set it up on a tripod. I frame the shot tight on my face and shoulders, the natural light from the window hitting my left side.

Behind me, Wraith is invisible. He's so big, his dark clothing just looks like a backdrop. The angle hides the rest.

"This okay?" I ask Wraith quietly.

He nods against my neck, his arms tightening around me.

"Ready?" Plague asks me.

"Nope."

But when has that ever stopped me?