Page 98 of Feral Omega

Perceptive little thing. I can't help the wry smile that tugs at my lips. "No," I admit. "It's not."

Ivy waits, patient and attentive, as I gather my thoughts.

"I'm not worried you'll be repulsed," I say finally. "Not deliberately, anyway. But, Ivy… if his mask slips somehow, it's going to be a shock. A big one. You won't be expecting it, and there's no way in hell he would ever show you unless it were a mistake. I'm afraid..."

I trail off, the words sticking in my throat. How do I explain the delicate balance we've struck with Wraith, the constant tightrope walk of keeping him stable and functional?

"You're afraid I'll react badly," she finishes for me, hugging herself and looking away. "That I'll be scared of him."

I nod stiffly. "Yeah. And if that happens, if you run… if you scream…"

"It would devastate him," she murmurs, her brow furrowing.

"Worse," I say grimly. "It could break him completely. Push him over that razor's edge he's always teetering on."

She looks up at me again, concern clear in that hypnotizing gaze.

Not just concern.

Fear.

Fear for my brother's sake.

I take a deep breath. "He'll disappear into the wilderness again. I know he will," I admit roughly. "I can't lose him like that. He's my brother, even if not by blood."

"I won't run. Or scream," she murmurs. "If I can trust you, you can trust me."

I swallow hard. "You should at least take some time," I rasp, unable to meet the weight of her stare any longer. "Think it over, Ivy. Really consider what you're asking, what it could mean. I… do ask that you wait, though. For my sake, if nothing else."

She's silent for a long time before nodding slightly. "Okay."

When I finally force myself to look at her again, that determined tilt to her chin is back.

Maybe she's right. Maybe she can handle this.

Why does the air suddenly feel so heavy?

I give a curt nod, pushing off from the cot and turning for the door before I can let the weight of her gratitude shatter the last shreds of my composure. "We'll be right outside if you need anything," I toss over my shoulder, the words gruff and clipped.

I feel the weight of her stare boring into my back as I retreat, scalding and intent. Like the first lick of wildfire before the blaze truly takes hold, consuming everything in its path.

Especially me.

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

WHISKEY

The spicy aroma of Ivy's heat saturates the air, teasing my senses with every breath I draw from where I'm slouching on the worn leather sofa in the common room. Even above all the other scents in here, it's like a siren's call tugging at the most primal corners of my brain.

And I can't fucking shake it.

My fingers drum an agitated rhythm against the sofa cushion, every muscle coiled tight as a wire. I should be out patrolling the perimeter, burning off this excess energy before it drives me insane. But Thane ordered me to stay put, to keep close in case Ivy needs anything.

Like his own personal guard dog.

Fucker.

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