Chapter Thirteen #2
“This particular store is not known for its bright clothes, but if you’re worried about looking a little dull, they do have a nice line of button-up shirts.
” They were a bit pricey because they were made of an exceptionally fine linen, but Devon wasn’t worrying about the costs.
“You could get a whole range of colors in the button-up shirts, which would look really nice when you and I went out together.”
“A button-up shirt’s not very comfortable to wear every day.” Wren stroked around his own neck. “What about clothes to be comfortable in around the house?”
“This store has everything for the man about town.” Devon clicked the leisure wear tab. “As you can see, they have sweatpants with matching sweatshirts, casual pants, even robes if you get chilly in the evening. Don’t they all look smart?”
“Is that how you want me to look?” Wren looked up, and Devon was shocked to see how sad he looked. “You’ll only be happy if I’m wearing things like that?”
He pointed at a gray sweatshirt that came with a matching pair of sweatpants. They weren’t anything special, but they were good for just lying around the house. Devon had quite a few pairs of them.
“I was only thinking that you can get some clothes that will help you feel more confident when you’re out and about.”
“What’s wrong with the pink sweatshirt and the rainbow sneakers?”
Wren seemed genuinely upset, and Devon still couldn’t understand why.
He sat back in his chair. “I didn’t know you wanted to wear things like that all the time.
I hoped you’d like the opportunity to get dressed up so that we could go out for dinner, or just explore so many places around here, or anywhere really.
I am really keen to take you places when you’re ready, and I simply felt you’d feel more comfortable in more professional-looking outfits. ”
“Professional clothes. Michael used to say things like that.”
Devon felt as though someone had stabbed him in his chest, and he wasn’t sure what hurt him more – the comparison to Michael or Wren’s flat tone. But Wren wasn’t finished.
“You told me I could be me. That I could make my own decisions. But you’re dangling taking me out in front of my face like a carrot I can never quite reach – just like Michael did.
You tell me, ‘I’ll tell you about the claiming when you’re ready, Wren,’ which is you deciding when I am ready.
‘I’ll buy you clothes,’ but they have to be these ones that have no color and would make me look just like Michael used to look when he wanted to go out at night.
I’m telling you my decisions, and you’re not listening to me, just like Michael.
Do you know how I ended up with Michael in the first place? ”
Where’s that coming from? I was just trying to do something nice for you. Devon shook his head. “You’ve never mentioned it, and I didn’t want to pry.”
“My grandparents didn’t like pretty things either.
But I did. I always have. I loved pretty things so, so, much.
My grandmother had one really soft and pretty shawl.
It was a lovely pale pink, and she used to wear it to church on Sundays.
I used to dream of touching that shawl and how it would feel on my skin.
I wanted to touch it and stroke it, so one day, when they were out, I put it on.
That one time I put it on, and my grandfather caught me looking at myself in the mirror in that gorgeous shawl. ”
Tears were pouring down Wren’s face. “He knocked me to the ground and tore that shawl away, tearing it into strips as he was yelling about how I was possessed by the devil... How boys couldn’t be pretty, and how I was sick.
He beat me so badly I could barely breathe, and before I could heal he’d called the pastor, yelling about how I was out of control.
Two men came and dragged me away, and a week later I was at Michael’s. ”
Wren’s chest was heaving, and his cheeks were drenched in tears.
“You said you’d accept me as I am. You said there was nothing I could say to you that you wouldn’t understand.
” He pointed at the computer screen. “Instead, I find you’re just like them – just like Michael, just like my grandparents.
Drab colors, so-called grown-up clothes.
I’m twenty-five years old, and I’m already a grown-up.
A grown-up who wants to wear pink and pale blue, rainbows and sparkles.
Warm and soft clothes that feel nice on my skin.
Why is that wrong? Am I truly sick for thinking like that? Are you going to sell me off now, too?”
Running over to the door, Wren wrenched it open and ran out of the house, his sobs ringing around the alley.
Gob-smacked, it took Devon a moment to move, but the moment he was out of the chair, his bear was one step ahead of him.
His clothes ripped to shreds as he shifted, pushing his bulk through the door as he chased Wren through the houses. Wren was heading for the trees.
He'll get lost or hurt. Devon roared, begging for Wren to understand that he needed Wren to stop, to come back to the house. Wren looked over his shoulder and screamed as he kept running, and Devon realized too late that Wren hadn’t met his bear before, but he couldn’t stop. His mate was getting away.
Levi and Calvin came running out of their house, and Flint came running out of his. And they were all running after Wren, too.
But by the gods, Wren was fast. Maybe it was something to do with his animal side getting closer to shifting, or maybe it was sheer panic that was propelling Wren’s legs so quickly.
Please stop. Please stop. Of course, the words weren’t coming out right – his animal side was in control, so all he was doing was growling.
It didn’t help that Levi, Calvin, and Flint were all running with him – there was no way Devon wanted to explain how he’d upset his mate so badly.
He still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but it was Devon’s problem to fix.
Levi tried to stand in front of him. “Devon, stop. You have to stop, man. You’re scaring him.” Devon bowled him over as he ran past – he didn’t have time for that nonsense - and then Calvin was shifting because Levi was on the ground, his bull chasing Devon down.
Devon ignored them all. He just wanted Wren. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Wren, please just stop!