Page 437 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Thought for sure I'd managed to somehow get away with it without her noticing.

"What? You are. You've filled out. It's good. You were too lean last season, I said so at the time⁠—"

"You didn't say anything last time we were here," I mutter.

"Last time, I had other things on my mind," she says, and her eyes flick briefly across the table to my brother and back to her plate.

Yeah. She was too busy trying not to look at him.

"What can I say?" Ivy pipes up cheerfully, reaching for the bread. "I like big alphas."

Dad reaches for his wine glass.

"Hmm. And scarred alphas," she adds, patting Wraith's forearm where it's wrapped around her middle.

My brother makes that gravelly huff-huff-huff against the top of her head.

My mother turns pink from her throat to her hairline and busies herself with the salad tongs, dropping the contents multiple times, and my father turns his usual tomato shade and takes a long, dedicated interest in the contents of his glass.

"Well," Mom says faintly. "That's. Great. That's… that's very great."

"Ivy," I grit out through my teeth.

"What?" She grins at me.

Mischief in omega form.

Wraith's chest is still shaking.

Traitor, I sign to him while my parents aren't paying attention.

"SO!" Mom says at triple her normal volume. "Ivy. Tell me about your family. When am I going to get to meet your mother?"

Ivy just shrugs one shoulder, going back to buttering her bread. "Um, well, my mom and I aren't really on speaking terms right now."

"Oh." Mom's face falls. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. Is it because of everything with…"

"Something like that." Ivy smiles up at her. "It's fine. Seriously, it's for the best. It was a long time coming. Don't worry about it."

She says it lightly and moves the conversation along, asking about the bookcases, whether it's true my father built the ones in the study himself, and my mother is fortunately easily distracted.

I look down at my plate.

Because I've seen Ivy's mother's social media. It's private, but Ivy showed me before blocking her. She'd posted a picture of Ivy as a teenager, going off about how her little girl threw a wonderful alpha away for a pack of freaks.

I'm the only one in the pack who saw it.

She let the others find out there were still issues between her and her mother and she let it stay vague, because no one would ever pressure her. She didn't need to give everyone a full explanation. But she let me hold her while she cried, and she told me the same thing when she was out of tears and blowing her nose.

That it's for the best.

I take a long sip of wine and let my mate and my mother chat about wood stains.

Dad sets his fork down halfway through the meal and loosens his belt, clearing his throat. Everyone stops, because when my father clears his throat like that, it's time for the commissioner to speak instead of the alpha who lets my mom win every argument.

"The league closed the review this morning."

Ivy almost drops her fork. "Wait, really?"