Page 302 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

The waitress returns with my hot chocolate with tiny pink marshmallows and his tea bag floating sadly in a mug of water that's still clear, but clouded enough I think it's probably still boiling. She sets them down at arm's length.

"The sundae will be a few minutes," she manages.

Her eyes keep darting to the scratches on Valek's face, then to my nails, which are kind of dirty and… oh. Bloody.

"Oh, it's fine," I tell her with my very best smile.

She doesn't smile back, but when she gets back to the counter, one of the servers whispers something to her while staring wide-eyed at us, and they start looking at their phones. Judging from the now excited glances between us and their screens, they're figuring out who we are.

I wrap both hands around the mug and take a full, deep sip. Across the table, Valek dunks the BetaBlend bag between his thumb and forefinger, blowing a puff of air out through his lower lip to shift his damp hair out of his eyes.

"I still owe you dinner," he says.

"This counts."

"It doesn't, Ivy."

"It does. I'm the omega. I get to decide, remember? Besides, you owe me a conversation more than a dinner."

The humor drains from his face.

"I know," he mutters.

The sundae arrives and the server vanishes with a giddy sound the moment she sets the absurdly gigantic creation on the table between us. There's extra whipped cream—more whipped cream than ice cream, actually, which is just fine with me—and three cherries, all covered in rainbow sprinkles.

I almost think they forgot the spoons, but no. They're just buried under whipped cream.

They went all fucking out.

"I could get used to hockey mate privileges if it comes with extra dessert," I say, plucking a cherry off and eating it, watching him.

To my surprise, he isn't paying attention, even though I'm trying and probably failing to be sexy with the cherry.

He's focused on the spoon in his hand.

"Wraith reminds me of someone," he says quietly.

I go still. Oh fuck. Okay. Here it goes.

"A boy I knew. A long time ago, in a place that doesn't exist anymore." He turns the spoon between his fingers, watching the metal reflect the light above us. "His name was Ilya. He was enormous. Mute. Feral. Wore a gas mask because his face was…"

He pauses, then drops it.

My throat tightens.

"He was the gentlest person I've ever met, really. Everyone in that place was afraid of him. They called him a monster." Valek's jaw flexes. "He wasn't, of course. He would rescue creatures he'd discover around the grounds of the children's home."

I don't say a word.

"He had someone," he continues. "An omega. Cosima. Young, fierce, terrifying. She loathed me. The feeling was mutual." A ghost of warmth passes behind his eyes. "But I was fond of Ilya."

"What happened to them?"

Valek looks at the sundae.

"Another boy—Ivan—attacked Ilya for trying to protect a hatchling pigeon. Stabbed him in the ribs with a shiv."

My stomach plummets.