Page 94 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

But this time, Whiskey's missing, too.

"Where the hell are they?" I sigh, checking my phone again.

"Wraith should have been here ten minutes ago," Plague mutters.

"Yeah. I noticed."

The Demons are already spilling onto the ice for warm-ups, their red-and-black jerseys standing out like blood on snow. Wade Kelly leads the charge, perfect smile plastered on his face for the cameras.

My hands curl into fists inside my gloves.

Valek materializes beside me, moving with that unsettling silence that makes me want to check for weapons. His silver eyes catch mine.

"Your brother," he says without preamble. "He was in the tunnels with the omega and the loud one."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean was?"

"I escorted Ivy to find them. She was in a hurry." Valek's expression gives nothing away. "Wraith was having some kind of episode. Panic attack, I believe." His lip curls slightly. "Someone leaked his driver's license."

Fuck.

Oh, FUCK.

I've seen it exactly once when it fell out of Wraith's wallet. He lunged for it like it was a fucking bomb. He couldn't look me in the eyes for three days.

"How bad is the leak?" I manage to grit out.

"It's everywhere." Valek pulls out his phone, scrolls briefly, then holds it up.

The image socks me in the gut.

My brother's face, frozen in digital purgatory. His normally expressive blue eyes are hollow from dissociation, and it makes the rest of his face look so much worse. Everything the camera captured and nothing of who he actually is.

The comments below are a cesspool.

I don't read them. Can't read them. The few words I spotted make me want to put my fist through something. Or someone. Actually, a certain someone across the ice would be a beautiful fucking target right now.

The crowd noise swells as more players take the ice. I hear the announcer's voice echoing through the arena, building hype for the matchup everyone's been waiting for.

Ghosts versus Demons.

Biggest rivalry in the league.

None of it registers.

All I can think about is my brother.

"Heavy footsteps," Valek observes, his head tilting toward the tunnel entrance. "Two sets. One heavier than the other."

He's right. The distinct thump-thump-thump of Whiskey's eager stride mixed in with slower, more deliberate steps.

Whiskey rounds the corner first, his usual manic energy dimmed but not extinguished. His eyes find mine immediately.

"Is Wraith—" I start.

Wraith appears behind him, looming, his shoulders are hunched despite his massive height and his eyes are on the ground, dark with misery.

But he's here.