Page 257 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Okay," I say, keeping my voice steady. "No bandage. And we'll figure out the gaiter. Just… don't wear it for the rest of the day, maybe?"

He shakes his head. I need it.

"I know."

For the hospital.

I blink. "Hospital?"

Thane's footsteps come down the stairs before Wraith can answer. The pack alpha rounds the corner into the living room in a fitted henley that hugs his broad frame, his shaggy hair pushed back from his face, holding his phone.

"Team visit at St. Luke's," Thane says, glancing between me and Wraith. He doesn't say anything about Wraith's face being uncovered, but his eyes linger for a moment. I can tell he's worried, too.

"Today?" I ask.

"Yeah. In about two hours. It's short notice, but Eliza thought it would be a good idea. Kind of fucked up to use that for PR if you ask me." Thane drops onto the opposite end of the couch, stretching his long legs out. "We do this every couple of months. The kids look forward to it."

Wraith's jaw tightens again.

The kids are scared of me, he signs.

"Some of them," Thane says honestly. "Most of them think you're cool as hell."

Cool as hell, Wraith repeats, his signs flat and stiff. Right. Not if they saw what happened on the ice.

"Knowing kids, I'm sure some of them think you're even cooler now," Thane replies, his lips tugging a little. "Besides, Whiskey says he has a surprise for today. I'm sure he'll keep them busy."

Wraith just sighs, and the sigh sounds more shallow and strained than usual.

He's in so much pain.

I hate it.

I hate it so fucking much.

"You okay?" I ask him quietly, stroking his dark hair.

He starts to sign something else, but he stops. He takes a deep breath, watching me.

What if I can't wear a mask anymore.

I stare at his hands, then at him. It isn't even a question. Just a flat, dead statement, like he's been carrying it around in his chest for days and it finally clawed its way out.

I take both of his hands and press them flat against my chest, right over my heartbeat. I hold them there.

"Then you can't wear it anymore," I say simply.

His eyes search mine.

"And we figure out what comes next. Together." I kiss his nose. "I already know it includes me sitting in your lap and wearing your mark, so."

His huffing breath comes out shaky. It isn't exactly a laugh, but the crushing stormcloud looming over him dissipates a little.

I need to go back to C-E-D-A-R-B-R-O-O-K, he signs. To see my doctor. This Friday. Come with me? And then… maybe we could stay the weekend. Just us.

My heart squeezes so hard I can't breathe for a second.

The last time he went to Cedarbrook, it ended… well, it ended fucking horribly. His mother tearing his mask off and calling him a monster. Dissociating in the woods while I set up a tent in a rainstorm and prayed he'd come back to me.