Page 452 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Caleb snorts, shoulders bouncing. Finn gives Wraith a solemn nod from two seats down, welcoming him to the inevitable. My father looks around, chewing a mouthful of chicken and frowning.

Wraith looks at me.

I shrug. “Too late. She has selected you.”

His hands rise as if to sign something, but they stop halfway there. They hover for a second, empty, before he lowers them back to Ivy's waist. His eyes look a deeper, mistier blue before he drops them toward Ivy’s hair and disappears back into his hood.

Maureen squeezes Arthur's leg, her eyes shining.

Thane glances at his parents, his face briefly unreadable before a slow smile spreads across his face as he turns back to Wraith, then me. "Guess I've got two brothers, then."

"Yes, you do." My mother lights up with a triumphant smile. It's the smile of a woman who just successfully brought the stray inside. “You’ll give me your phone number before you leave.”

Wraith nods.

“Good. Done.”

“Hey, wait a fuckin’ minute.”

Every head turns toward Whiskey.

He has one arm thrown across the back of Plague’s chair and his other hand resting near Champ, guarding it from anyone who might disrespect it. Her.

“I don’t got parents either,” he says. “What about me?”

He's grinning, as always, but it's a little too wide. He isn't completely joking. I caught him looking out at the crowd as he roared on the ice, as if he was hoping to see someone who wasn't there.

Plague groans. “Whiskey…”

“What? I don’t.”

My mother studies him for half a second. “You too.”

Whiskey lights up. “Fuck yeah!”

“Language,” she says without missing a beat.

“Sorry, Ma.”

My father makes a strangled sound into his hand as it sets in he now has two additional sons.

My mother looks pleased with herself. “And Plague.”

Ah. Three.

Plague inhales wrong, his whole body jerking with a cough while Whiskey slams him between the shoulder blades with his open palm hard enough to make Plague gasp in pain.

“Easy, bro,” Whiskey says. “You’re okay.”

“I was. Stop hitting me,” Plague rasps, shoving him off before the bigger alpha breaks his back.

I lift my eyebrows at my mother. “If you're adopting Whiskey and Plague, that has certain… implications."

Rae loses it laughing. Caleb is next, and then Finn, too, my father muttering "oh, for the love of Pete" into his glass while the Commissioner and his wife look like they wish a meteor would fall on us all.

Whiskey needs a moment to process it.

He looks at Plague, confused, then gets it with a big gasp. "Oh fuck! Cuz we'd be brothers!"