Page 85 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"Oh gods. I… okay. I'll take care of it immediately. I'm so sorry⁠—"

The phone loses signal and goes dead as I move deeper into the tunnels. But at least they fucking know. There's nothing else I can do right now.

I pocket my phone and break into a jog, rounding a corner, and slam into a towering alpha who doesn't even move.

"Shit—!"

Valek catches my arms before I can fall, steadying me. His silver eyes flick over my face as I shake myself free and catch my breath.

"You're in a hurry," he observes.

"I… Val…" My breath comes in gasps. "Have you seen Wraith? Or Whiskey? Maybe in a hall?"

"No." His head tilts, studying me. The usual menace in his expression softens into focused concern, his hands still slightly gripping my upper arms. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie. You're breathing too fast and your pupils are dilated. Something's wrong."

"I need to find Wraith. Now."

Valek's jaw tightens. For a moment I think he's going to argue, but instead he steps aside and gestures down the tunnel.

"At least allow me to walk beside you."

It's not really a request. I search his face for any sign of threat and find only that strange, focused concern.

"Fine. But if you try anything⁠—"

"I won't."

I start moving again and he falls into step beside me, his longer legs easily matching my near-jogging pace. His presence is slightly unnerving. I feel like Little Red Riding Hood walking alongside a loping white wolf who's decided not to eat me just yet.

We pass a fire extinguisher and I have a brief intrusive thought about how maybe I should bring it along.

Just for old times' sake.

I'm almost tempted to remind him in a half-joking way that if he tries anything, I'll clobber him so hard he'll wake up with amnesia and think Whiskey's his mate, Pepé Le Pew style.

But nothing is funny right now. I can barely breathe, let alone jokingly threaten Valek. He's behaving anyway.

Actually, he's being a perfect gentleman.

The equipment storage area comes into view, and I spot Whiskey immediately. He's pacing the hall outside a door to a supply closet.

"Ivy!" His shoulders sag with relief as he jogs up to us. "Thank fuck. He's in there, he's⁠—"

I glance over my shoulder to say something to Valek, some acknowledgment, some thanks for the escort.

He's gone.

Just empty tunnel where he stood seconds ago.

Like a ghost.

Fitting.

"Wraith's not…" Whiskey's voice drops low. "He's barely responding, Ivy. Be careful. He might be in a feral state."