Wraith doesn't sign a response, just stares at me with those intense blue eyes, daring me to challenge him again.
Fuck that. I'm not backing down.
"We've got practice soon and Coach is already on the warpath," I press.
A low rumble emerges from Wraith's chest. It isn't a full-blown growl, but close enough to make the hair on my arms stand up. His hands fingerspell three slow, clear words.
O-U-T… O-F… T-I-M-E.
"Out of time for what?" I ask, confused. "Arguing with me?"
The glare Wraith is giving me could melt steel. The implied threat hangs in the air between us.
I'm about to push it anyway when Thane interjects with a tired sigh.
"Just let him go," Thane mutters. "I've called the team doctor. We need to focus on Valek for now."
Wraith nods once at Thane, shoots me another warning look, then stalks out of the locker room with another low growl. The door slams behind him with enough force to rattle the hinges.
"What the actual fuck is going on?" I demand once he's gone. "You can't tell me you don't think this is suspicious as hell."
Thane drags a hand through his shaggy dark hair. "All I know is that our new winger got knocked unconscious before his first practice, and Coach is going to lose his fucking mind when he finds out."
"That's your concern? Coach's blood pressure?" I shake my head in disbelief. "Not the fact that Wraith just showed up shirtless, which is weird as fuck for him, and carrying our brand-new winger over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes?"
"Whiskey," Thane warns, his voice dropping into captain mode. "Not now."
I turn to Plague instead, who's been suspiciously quiet. "You got anything to add, or are you too busy counting dust particles in the new winger's hair?"
Plague finishes his examination of Valek's head wound before answering. "The wound is consistent with blunt force trauma. Not Wraith's usual fighting style."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning Wraith typically uses his fists, not objects. This looks like Valek was hit with something cylindrical and heavy." Plague straightens up, adjusting his gloves with a snap. "Something doesn't add up."
"No shit," I mutter.
The sound of approaching footsteps announces the arrival of the medical team. Thane moves to intercept them, leaving Plague and me momentarily alone by Valek's prone form.
I lower my voice. "The dream. The omega in the tunnels. Valek says he saw one, and suddenly Wraith's acting weirder than usual? Come on."
Plague's eyes narrow above his mask. "I don't believe in coincidences."
"For once, we agree on something."
I glance over at Thane, making sure he's out of earshot. "So what's the play here? Because my gut says Wraith is hiding something big."
"We need more information," Plague murmurs. "And right now, our only source is currently unconscious."
We both look down at Valek, whose eyelids are starting to flutter. The alpha is coming around, groaning softly as his hand moves to his head.
"Perfect timing," I say. "Let's get our answers straight from the source."
The medical team bustles in with Thane leading the way. They immediately push Plague and me aside to attend to Valek. I hang back, watching as they check his pupils and vital signs, murmuring medical jargon I mostly tune out.
Valek's eyes open fully. He blinks slowly, taking in his surroundings with a predator's awareness despite his injured state. Like we're a bunch of zookeepers gathered around a tranq'd white tiger.
"Welcome to the Ghosts," I say with a grin that doesn't reach my eyes. "We usually save the head trauma for actual games, but I guess you got the VIP treatment."
