Page 100 of Psycho Pack

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you anything yet."

Pauses, drums his fingers on the railing.

Something he does when he's nervous.

Taps and taps and taps.

"You're a good listener, Wraith. Always have been. Perhaps that's why I don't mind you following me. You won't pry. Won't demand answers I'm not ready to give."

I shift my weight on the padded carpet.

Waiting.

There's more.

Has to be.

"The others..." Plague trails off, shaking his head. "They wouldn't understand.Can'tunderstand. Not yet. Maybe never." He turns slightly, pale blue eyes meeting mine. "But you... you know what it's like to have a past you can't escape. To be something other than what you appear to be."

My jaw clenches beneath the scarf.

He's not wrong.

But what the fuck is he getting at?

"I'm not… who they think I am," Plague says softly, his words nearly lost in the wind. "I never have been. The persona I've crafted... it's a mask. Just like the physical ones we wear."

Don't like that.

Sounds dangerous to Ivy.

I step closer, looming over him.

Get to the fucking point.

Plague sighs.

Looks back to the vanishing mountains.

"I need you to understand that everything I've done, everything I'm doing... it's to protect the pack. To protecther."

My chest tightens at the thought of Ivy.

Safe.

Warm.

Curled up with the others.

Far from whatever game Plague is playing.

He grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white. "I've done terrible things. Things I can never atone for. This is my chance to make it right—at least as much as I can."

I grunt again.

Still not a full explanation.

But it's more than he's given anyone else.