Page 37 of Puck & Her Blades

I’ve never purred.

Emiliano used to secretly purr, as he held me and stroked my hair at night, while he tucked me in. I knew better than to let the rest of the pack know, however, because he’d have been beaten for it.

I never understood why.

I still don’t.

Can I even purr?

Absentmindedly, I pull the laptop toward me, which appears to be both new and the latest model.

Who bought me this?

As I turn it on, I clear my throat and try for the best rumbling purr that I can.

Nothing.

I frown, disappointed.

Omegas purr when they’re happy and feel safe enough.

Perhaps, I just don’t have anything to purr about.

Although, at least I have Internet access.

Isn’t that worth a purr?

My shoulders sag with relief, as I click onto the web and then onto the blog that I secretly run for the Omega resistance, exposing abuses in the sporting world.

I use the anonymous name Pucked Off Snow Bunny.

My breathing becomes ragged, and my heart speeds up.

Will it still be there? I’ve been away for a year.

My eyes smart with relieved tears, when I see the familiar logo appear: A silver bunny.

“Love you pucked off snow bunny,” I whisper. “Keep fighting the good fight.”

But can I?

I’m in the perfect position now that I’m the Blades’ mascot. I’ll hear rumors, inside scoops, and witness the bad behavior of players and their staff like those who use Omega fans like they’re toys to play with once and then break, not caring that it means they’ll be thrown away as Rejects the next day.

My expression becomes steely with determination.

I have a duty to continue my blog.

When I scan over my last entries, my eyes widen.

There are hundreds of comments.

Most are the usual trolling that I’m used to (but then as Mom always said, a hater is only a fan in denial).

One person, however, who calls themselves Gives No Pucks, is asking repeatedly where I am.

Weird, right?

You haven’t posted this week — Gives No Pucks

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