Page 378 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Standing guard.

I turn the screen enough to show him to the chat, and it loses its collective mind.

VALEK!!!

sir you are standing there like a final boss

is he single

he's literally her mate did you not watch the press conference

RUIN MY LIFE VAL

"Both Val and Wraith were protecting me," I say. "Wade was threatening me right there on the ice." I look at Valek. "He may not be the best at saying how he feels, but he's very good at showing it."

The slightest ghost of a smirk curves his lips.

Thirty thousand viewers now, and it seems like half of them are commenting all at once. I have to fight to read any of it, and I only manage to because they're all asking variations of the same question now.

where's Wraith

WRAITH

we want Wraith!!

is he okay???

please show Wraith

We just want to know he's okay

My throat tightens.

They're asking for him, and not to gawk.

They're worried.

"Wraith is right here," I say quietly. "He's always here."

I try to turn my head so I can see him behind me, but I can't really, not from this angle. I squeeze his hands where they're still overlapping on my stomach. I'm not sure if he's paying attention. Not even sure if he's awake.

I can't just put the camera on him. Especially not when he isn't wearing his mask, however certain I am they can't see his face, the way he's buried in my hair.

"Wraith?" I whisper. "Can I move the camera?"

He nods slightly.

Okay.

Here goes.

I zoom out, and the frame suddenly makes sense of what just looked like an oddly dark background this whole time.

It's Wraith's sweatshirt.

His shoulders span wider than the couch cushion behind me. My entire body fits inside the cage of his arms with room to spare.

My hair obscures most of his face, but not his eyes. Nothing could hide those impossibly blue eyes, not even the exhaustion darkening them, watching the screen with the quiet wariness of someone who expects the worst and is bracing for it.