Page 132 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Is that something you'd be willing to state on the record?" Eliza asks carefully. "The nature of your relationship with Wade?"

My scarred shoulder throbs. The phantom pain I've learned to live with, flaring up yet again at the worst possible moments.

Wraith's thumb strokes across my knuckles. A tiny movement. Don't. You don't have to do this.

"If it protects Wraith," I say, "then yes."

The words come out steady. The decision was already made before she finished asking.

Eliza nods once, making a note on her tablet. "That changes the narrative considerably. An alpha defending his scent-matched omega from her documented abuser does play out differently than an unprovoked mauling, regardless of ferality."

"Because that's what it was," Thane says firmly.

"I know that. I need the public to know that." Eliza shifts her attention to Valek. "Which brings us to you."

Valek doesn't move from his position against the wall. His eyes meet Eliza's with that empty calm that I'm starting to realize is his version of armor.

"Wade's knee injury is career-ending," Eliza states. "The footage clearly shows you delivering the blow after Wade was already incapacitated by Wraith. That's aggravated assault under normal circumstances."

"Normal circumstances," Valek repeats mildly.

"However." Eliza holds up a finger. "Miss Byrne's claim that you're her scent match also changes the legal framework. An alpha defending a matched omega from an active threat falls under instinct defense provisions, same as Wraith. The league is willing to reduce the charge to unsportsmanlike conduct with a three-game suspension, provided you cooperate with the PR strategy."

Valek's jaw tightens. "And what strategy is that?"

"United front. Pack solidarity. The Ghosts' omega was being threatened by her abuser, and her pack responded. All five of her alphas." Eliza's gaze sweeps the room. "The story is sympathetic and defensible. If you decline, then the media writes the story for you. And I promise you won't like their version."

The silence stretches on forever, other than the crackling from the unnecessary fucking candle Plague lit.

Wraith's breathing is shallow beside me. His hand hasn't released mine, but the slight trembling has started up again in his fingers. I lean into him, pressing my cheek against his shoulder, letting him feel me there. He tilts his head against mine.

"The ID leak," Thane says finally. "What's being done about that?"

"The pharmacist has been terminated. Gordon Health Center has launched an internal investigation into a nursing assistant who attempted to sell additional photos. Legal is pursuing both individuals." Eliza's expression softens for the first time. "And of course, everything that happened on the ice is out there, too. But for what it's worth, the public response hasn't been entirely negative. There's a significant contingent of fans who are rallying behind Wraith. The—" She checks her tablet. "—um. 'Revenant' and… well… the other hashtag is trending with overwhelmingly supportive content."

Wraith makes a small sound. It's kind of one of his huffs, but it's miserable too.

"What's the other hashtag?" Whiskey asks.

Eliza purses her lips and her ears redden. "Monsterfuckers."

My eyes narrow.

Wraith just blinks and tilts his head to the other side like a giant perplexed wolf. He lifts his free hand to sign to me, his brow furrowed in confusion.

What are M-O-N-S-T-E-R-F-U-C-K-E-R-S?

"Monsterfuckers like… um… scary guys," Whiskey supplies without missing a beat even though Wraith wasn't asking him. Leave it to the expert on fan shit to know exactly what this is about.

Wraith's frown deepens. And I'm the monster.

“No,” I say immediately.

“YES! Exactly, bro,” Whiskey says at the exact same time. Then he winces and scratches the back of his head. “I mean, not in a bad way. They think you’re hot. Uh. Some of them.”

I glare at Whiskey.

"Hey, scary is what's keeping our omega safe," Whiskey adds with a grin, winking at me.