Page 394 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Matt," she says in a loud whisper. "You have to say please."

"Pleeeeease sign my guy!"

Wraith looks at me, then crouches slowly, lowering himself to the kid's level. Whiskey hands the marker over with a huge grin, and Wraith takes it in his scarred fingers and takes the plush zombie in his other hand.

Matt watches Wraith's face from two feet away with enormous, delighted eyes.

"Do your teeth come out?" he asks, hopping.

Wraith blinks, shaking his head.

"That's SO COOL."

Wraith's shoulders shake with a quiet, uncertain huff. He steadies the plush against his knee and carefully signs WRAITH #0 across the chest in his jagged handwriting before handing it back.

Matt hugs the zombie to his chest with one arm and holds up a small fist.

Wraith bumps it, scarred knuckles against tiny ones.

And for the first time, I actually believe it.

I actually believe he's going to be okay.

Chapter 81

Plague

We're getting fucking demolished.

The Buffaloes scored three times in the first period alone. Whiskey took a penalty trying to compensate for the massive gap in our defensive line where Wraith should be. Thane blocked an impressive number of shots, but I can't even bring myself to be impressed because it means our offense is collapsing without our power forward.

I sit on the bench during intermission and stare at the concrete floor between my skates, running numbers I already know by heart.

We only have a few days left before the deadline. For Wraith to safely mark Ivy or we lose our instinct defense and everything unravels.

And the locker room is a fucking circus.

Of course.

Whiskey and Coach are yelling at each other, Coach's face a deep furious purple and Whiskey looming over him. Someone drops a water bottle and it rolls across the floor all the way to my skate, spraying me.

I stand and walk out.

The hallway is blessedly quiet and empty. I lean against the concrete wall and close my eyes, fighting off the beginnings of a migraine prickling behind them.

We're useless without Wraith.

Truly fucking useless.

He's been doing better today. He didn't completely try to hide on his way into the VIP box with Ivy. But there's better and there's ready to mark Ivy.

The two aren't necessarily the same.

"You think louder than Whiskey talks."

My eyes open.

Valek is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed. I didn't hear him follow me. I never hear him.