“Gee, thanks. Real morale boost, Coach.”
He gritted his teeth and paced for a second. “What were you doing your whole life? Living under a rock?”
I bit my tongue. Hard. The images came uninvited. Nero, laughing as he kicked the ball effortlessly between his legs, while the other boys from the pack cheered and called out for passes. I remembered sitting at the edge of the field, my hair neatly braided by our pack’s omega elder, learning how to sew netting for wolf pups’ hammocks while the boys tackled each other like gods of war.
‘Let them play, you stay clean,’ my father had said once.
“Vaughn!”
I blinked. Kross was snapping his fingers in front of me, his brows drawn together in suspicion. “Are you zoning out while I’m literally trying to teach you how not to be a disgrace?”
“No,”
