Page 450 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

That seems to frighten Thane's mother further down the table.

Maureen is a bit of a nervous wreck. She clearly loves Wraith, and she doesn't seem to mind his scars anymore, but when he opens his jaws and sinks his teeth into a burger made of mushrooms while using our mate as a visual shield of sorts, Maureen's voice rises several octaves.

They mean well.

They clearly have no idea what to do with him.

Wraith notices. He burrows further into his hood, still shy, even after being plastered all over countless magazines and social media posts. I can't blame him. Most fans like him, but I've seen the comments, and seen firsthand how most of the public reacts as if he's a monster.

My mother didn't so much as blink.

Ivy reaches back and runs her fingers through his hair under it, munching on her own roll, and he settles.

He makes me think of Ilya, all the time.

I wonder if he was separated from Cosima.

Surely she was adopted. He wouldn't have been. The evidence is right here before my very eyes, however much I try to lie to myself that perhaps someone who wanted the omega badly enough would accept the feral alpha that would follow her into hell itself without blinking.

The only reason my parents gave me a chance is because they're masochists.

One of said masochists watches all of this over the rim of her wine glass.

I know that look.

It's the look she had when I arrived on her doorstep.

She's concerned about a stray, and she wants to fix it.

My mother slowly lowers her wine glass.

Wraith catches her watching him and immediately ducks his head. His hand rises toward his hood, tugging it another inch forward. It doesn't take much to set him off. Frightening a small child is one of several guaranteed ways.

Ivy squeezes his forearm where it's banded across her middle. His eyes drop to her, and his shoulders ease slightly.

My mother watches that, too. "Wraith?"

His gaze snaps up.

“Is that your legal name?” she asks him.

He pauses, perplexed by the question, then nods.

“And Belmont?”

Another nod, glancing toward Thane this time, then Thane's parents, awkwardly.

“And you're Thane’s brother, right?" my mother asks, pointing her fork between them.

I'm already sighing. She's in full-blown investigation mode now, and there's no getting her off it when she's started.

Wraith's eyes flick back to Thane, then to her, and his hands lift slowly, fingerspelling.

F-O-S-T-E-R… B-R-O-T-H-E-R.

Thane frowns. “Just brother," he tells my mother.

Wraith signs again without looking away from him. N-O-T… L-E-G-A-L-L-Y.