Page 426 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Camping," I say. "He needed to show me the real mountains."

"Well, you picked a romantic weekend for it." She tops off my mug. "High chance of northern lights tonight."

My eyes widen. "Wait, really?" I ask, excited.

Wraith huffs a sigh that immediately makes me realize he knew about this, and I didn't, and he's been keeping it a surprise somehow this entire time.

"Oh, never mind," the server says, grinning and waving her hand. "You didn't hear it from me. Nothing but clouds tonight. Won't be able to see a thing. Can I get you two anything else?"

Wraith shakes his head, signing a thanks she nods and smiles at this time, because she's picked that sign up from my translations. And when she walks away, I catch him watching her go with this cautious, stunned expression, and I understand why.

Nobody's just talked to us before.

Out in public. Casually.

"Can we do this again?" I ask, sipping my milkshake. "I love it here. We could be regulars. Our secret place, just you and me."

He gazes at me, his eyes soft and warm, and for once, not disbelieving. Then he nods slowly and reaches across the table. He pulls my hand to his mouth and presses his teeth gently against my knuckles.

Tonight, I finally get to wear Wraith's mark.

And I'm not scared at all.

Chapter 89

Wraith

The date went… well.

Eating outside, around other people, maskless and without my hood, didn’t make the world end.

It’s because of Ivy.

I know it is. The reactions I get aren't nearly as good when she isn't at my side, or standing in front of me, the living sunshine in omega form that immediately fills every room.

But I can live with that.

The strap of the heavy duffel digs into the scar tissue on my shoulder as I trudge down the dark path ahead of her, pushing and breaking the branches aside for her to clear the way.

I shift it higher, off the scars.

Ivy keeps eyeing the bag.

"Okay, so, real talk." She hops over a fallen log to cut me off, dodging a bush reaching for her leg, but it catches her coat anyway. I snap the branch and toss it aside. "You've changed a flat tire, taken me to a haunted midnight diner, fed me the best pancakes in the world, and now you're marching me through the woods in the dark with a giant mystery bag."

Yes.

"What's in it?"

Stuff.

"Misha."

I huff and adjust the strap again. The contents clank softly. You'll see.

"That's not an answer."

My eyes crinkle at her. It's the only one you're getting.