Chapter Seventeen
It was just after lunch the next day. Wren was wandering around outside, enjoying being out in the fresh air, after a sexy morning with Devon. Wren’s cheeks were still flushed thinking about it.
They’d had a shower before breakfast…together.
Wren wanted to put Devon’s cock in his mouth, the same way Devon had done for him the night before.
Kneeling with Devon’s body protecting him from the water spray, Wren tried his best, even though he couldn’t get it all in.
His mouth was stretched as wide as it would go just to get his lips around the head of it.
But then, just as Wren was savoring the unusual taste, Devon wrenched his cock out of his lips, pumped it twice before his spunk splattered all over Wren’s face.
Apparently that excited Devon even more than he had been. Wren was picked up, shivering as his back hit the cool tiles, and then his cock disappeared in Devon’s mouth, while he was being held up in the air, and the spunk was running down his cheeks. That was fun.
It was after, while they were snuggled up on the couch digesting breakfast, that the phone rang.
Devon ignored it. It rang again. Wren started to get edgy.
Clearly someone wanted to speak to Devon.
Finally, when it rang a third time, Devon grunted something about having to answer it, and as Wren was dressed by then, he decided being outside would at least give his mate some privacy.
Although how much privacy could someone have when they were claimed?
Wren had been thrilled Devon could speak in his head, although Devon explained during a quiet moment that he couldn’t hear all of Wren’s thoughts, which was probably a good thing.
My lovely Bear would be bored in five minutes.
But Wren could sense Devon in his head, he was lurking there in the back of his mind.
And while it was a comforting thought, Wren could also tell when Devon was getting agitated – like now.
Maybe someone’s telling him he has to go off and do another job, Wren wasn’t sure how the assassin business worked, but he imagined that Devon would have to do his part the same as anybody else.
The Alley was quite quiet because Storm and Pax had apparently gone off to do a job.
Pax explained that Storm never liked to go on his jobs without him.
Apparently some jobs could take more than a day, and it wasn’t good for mates to be away from each other for any length of time.
“It’s fine,” Pax had said happily. “I can make myself invisible, so no one ever knows I’m there, and most times Storm just has me waiting in the car. It never takes him long to do what he needs to do, and between you and me, I prefer not to see the gory stuff.”
Wren and Devon hadn’t talked about that side of their lives yet. Maybe that’s why he’s upset, Wren wondered. Maybe Devon doesn’t think I’m ready for it, and he’s not ready to go off without me.
He reached up, touching the scar that was resting underneath his sweatshirt - the pale blue one this time. At least, if he does have to go for a bit, I’d still be able to feel him in my head.
Flint was busy in his greenhouse, and Wren wandered in that direction.
“Your plants are looking beautiful,” he said, leaning against the frame of the door.
Flint had on a big floppy yellow sun hat, even though it was quite cloudy overhead, and had teamed that up with a pair of overalls in a bright green gingham.
“I like doing things with my hands,” Flint said. “It’s incredible watching things grow.” He glanced over with a friendly smile. “You smell different. I take it you and Devon have finally talked about all the things you were worried about and claimed each other now?”
Wren’s cheeks were hot, and it wasn’t entirely from the heat in the glasshouse. “We did talk, and then did some things,” he admitted, not sure how much was polite to share. “And then we bit each other.”
“I’m so glad.” Flint must have sensed his discomfort because he turned back to the plants.
“What was that like for you? You had quite a busy day, being able to shift into all those different creatures, which I must say was super cool. No disrespect to my snake, but there have been times when I wished I could shift into something a little bigger. It would make it a lot easier to stomp on some idiots when they don’t respect me for who I am. ”
Wren could understand that feeling. “It’s all a bit surreal in a way,” he said slowly.
“My life has changed so much, although Devon says that’s normal when a shifter meets their mate.
It was only a matter of days ago and I was scrubbing Michael’s apartment with a toothbrush and now…
now, I could laze around in bed all day.
We only got dressed because Devon was hungry.
Although it’s just as well we did because then the phone wouldn’t stop ringing. ”
“That’ll probably be Cyrus,” Flint said, turning over the dirt in a large pot. “He’s about the only one that calls any of us to be honest.”
“It might be about a job then. I’m not sure what’s going on,” Wren admitted. “Devon just said he needed to take that call and I thought I’d give him some privacy.”
“But you are feeling all right, aren’t you?” Flynn persisted. “You’ve genuinely gone through a whole lot of learning in the past week. That can’t have been easy for you.”
“Is it weird then, that I’m feeling really good?” Wren thought about it. “I feel more settled, not as anxious, more content.”
“Ah, so the myth about the magical dick is true.” Flint grinned, showing his teeth. “I’ve always wondered if that was the case with mates.”
“I don’t think it’s got anything to do with dicks. I mean, not that Devon doesn’t have...” Wren coughed and trailed off as Flint laughed.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m just teasing.
That’s just the sort of thing some people say, especially with fated mates.
They have this weird ass idea that all you have to do is have claiming sex and then all your troubles mysteriously disappear.
I always thought that was a load of crock unless the troubles were to do with the fact that your mate wouldn’t claim you in the first place. ”
Wren scrunched up his nose. “I can’t see how a dick can be magical. Sex seems fun, but I can’t see it being that good.” Although it’s not like Wren had a clue about things like that. He was only just coming to terms with being a shifter and having his first orgasm.
“It’s not so much the sex,” he added, trying to explain.
“It’s more that I can sense Devon in my head.
” He tapped against the back of his skull.
“It’s like…I feel like I’ve got someone with me, even when I’m on my own.
Devon’s in the house, and I’m out here, but I can feel him with me, and that’s really comforting. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, yes it does,” Flint said. “I think that’s one of the most endearing things about being a fated mate.
Whether you get a mind link or not, you still get that sense of connection because your animal souls are tied together along with your human souls.
So, it’s, yeah, I can see where that would be really special.
And I’m really glad that Devon’s presence in your head helps you. ”
“Even if I wasn’t Devon’s mate, it’s easier being here than it was at Michael’s.” Wren looked around, taking in the trees and the other houses. There were sounds of some hammering or sawing going on over in the workshop, and the faint smell of baked goods was in the air. “This is an amazing place.”
“Well, I’m glad for you,” Flint said. “I’m glad you’re here.
I’m glad that Devon was able to save you when he did.
And yeah, I think it’ll be really good for you that you’ll develop your own confidence the longer you are here.
You’ll get the chance to grow into your own person, and that’s a really good way to be. ”
“I hope so,” Wren said. “Did you want to meet your mate one day?” Wren thought Flint was attractive, and he was always so kind. Wren could imagine him caring for a mate.
“I’d love a mate. All paranormals hope to meet their mate one day.” Flint put down the little hand trowel he was using and wiped across his forehead with the back of his arm, before resting it on the trestle table. “I’m just not sure it’ll ever happen for me.”
The unexpected note of sadness had Wren coming into the glasshouse, standing shoulder to shoulder with his friend. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly. “Don’t all paranormals have a mate somewhere?”
“They do. Yes.” Flint nodded. “Well, except the really evil people in the world, but most of us have a mate out there somewhere. The thing is, I’m an anomaly, and there’s a good chance if I did meet my person, they would reject me.”
“Why would they do that?” Wren frowned. “I don’t understand. You’re a fantastic person and a true friend. Why wouldn’t anyone want you as a mate?”
“Thanks.” Flint ducked his head, but Wren could see he was pleased.
“I’m not being a Debbie Fowner, or all gloomy, but I don’t fit the look of what people imagine assassins will be.
When people think of an assassin, they think of people like Storm or Calvin, Levi or Python, or even your Devon.
You know what I mean - big, strong alpha types. Not like me at all.”
“I’m sure I heard Cyrus saying the other night that you’d done really well on the last job you went out on. The other men all respect you as well. If you’re getting the job done, why would you be worried that you’re not assassiny enough?”
Flint laughed. “Assassiny. I like that. But that’s the thing. Most people wouldn’t look at me and think ‘oh, yeah, that’s an assassin right there.’”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Wren thought about what Devon said about blending in when he went out.
“Definitely.” Leaning his elbow on the trestle table, Flint grinned.
“There have been so many times when I’ve been sent out on a job and I turn up at this bar, or somewhere like that.
The mark doesn’t see me as a threat at all and usually invites me to his room.
It makes my work so much easier than chasing people down.
But when people think of the word ‘assassin,’ a skinny little guy wearing green gingham, tending plants in a greenhouse is not the first image that comes to mind. ”
“I can’t think why not. I mean, what else would an assassin do in their spare time? Everybody has to have downtime.”
“True, true.” Flint nudged Wren with his shoulder. “When I think of my perfect mate, the person that I dream I’d want to be with for the rest of my life, I imagine one of those tall, big, badass people. But face it, what would somebody like that see in somebody like me?”
“You told me our mates are perfect for each other, and Devon said the same thing.” Wren gave Flint’s shoulders a quick hug. “Honestly, your mate will find you, and when he does…or she…”
“No, my mate will be a he,” Flint interrupted quickly. “I really have no idea what to do with women’s bits.”
Wren giggled. “I’m not sure I would either. I’ve never seen them.”
“Me neither.” It was nice that Flint giggled with him.
“So we’re agreed. Your mate will think that you’re perfect the way you are, green gingham overalls and all.” Wren looked his friend up and down. “I would have gone with pink myself, but that’s because I’m a fan. But the green looks awesome on you.”
“I’ll make sure I send Devon the link to where I got them,” Flint said. “We can be twinsies, ooh, and we could get a pair for Pax as well. Then we three could be the Gingham Gang – that sounds like an outlaw band right there, doesn’t it?”
Wren wasn’t quite sure what an outlaw gang was, but sharing laughter with his friend was fun, especially when he could feel through their connection that Devon was getting more and more irate. I do hope everything’s all right.