Page 362 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

"I was going to rescue it for her," he tells me, grinning.

I roll my eyes at him and slide another soaked slice into the pan, ignoring the butter spitting at my hand. I don’t feel much of it through the scar tissue, but Ivy still catches my wrist and examines it.

"Did you burn yourself?" she murmurs.

No. I'm fine, I sign with my other hand, watching as she turns my palm over and kisses it.

I'm almost tempted to pretend it does hurt so she'll do that again.

The next slice cooks even better.

I make five in total. Two for Ivy, two for Valek, and one for me because I can’t eat more without getting everything all over my face, and even one feels like too much with both of them here.

But I’m going to try.

We move to a blanket beside the fire. Ivy sits sideways on my lap, although I wish she would sit with her back to me, stealing bites from Valek’s whenever he looks away.

He pretends he doesn't notice.

They chat about the pack, and how Plague wouldn't approve of keeping the eggs in the cooler overnight with mostly-melted ice packs, and I bask in this moment of normalcy and try to focus on eating my toast without getting it everywhere.

I tear off a small corner, syrupless because I can't manage fucking syrup, tip my head back, and guide it past my teeth with my tongue.

It takes me longer than it should. I have to work the bread back with my tongue because there's nothing to hold it in, and I keep my hand near my jaw in case something falls. But the bread is soft enough that my sharp teeth shred through it without any effort, and I swallow before anything can go wrong.

Ivy watches, her ears turning pink for some reason.

I don't understand her at all.

After breakfast, Ivy digs soap, toothbrushes, and towels from the convenience-store bags. We pack up the campsite and head down toward the river to wash up.

Ivy links her fingers through mine. "Are you still staying in the car while we get flowers and check on Claire?"

I nod, dropping my eyes and gesturing to my face.

I can't go in like this.

I don't know how I can go anywhere like this.

I really fucking don't.

But right now, out here in the forest where only Ivy matters, and the only other person is the alpha who's somehow becoming a brother to me, I can shove it far from my mind.

Ivy is already chest-deep, hair floating behind her, tipping her head back to let the sun hit her face. She pulls me in after her, still holding my hand, and I slip.

I don't mean to land on her.

She shrieks and retaliates, splashing straight at my face, which is a mistake on her part because my arms are longer, and by the time Valek wades in with the soap and towels she's laughing so hard she's spluttering.

I catch her around the waist and lift her out of the water before she can inhale more of it, and she wraps her arms around my neck, still coughing and grinning.

Cold water runs down my face, dripping off my teeth. I feel all of it, but Ivy is in my arms, and when she pushes my wet hair back from my forehead, I hold still and let her look.

Her thumb traces the scar through my eyebrow, the one from my mother's kitchen knife, and follows it all the way down.

She smiles wider and kisses my nose.

Valek wades in beside us, setting the towels on the flat rock half out of the river, and soaps his hands with a charcoal bar before scrubbing his face and neck.