Chapter Twenty
The knowledge of what Devon had to talk to Wren about nagged at him like a burr under his skin. It was only thanks to his training that he was able to hide it at all, but every minute he didn’t say something, he knew he was lying by omission to his mate.
Storm had gone through something similar when he met Pax.
His family was after his mate – and how fucked up was that.
The way the Fates worked boggled Devon’s mind at times.
But Storm had been working secretively with Cyrus, trying to keep his mate safe.
Pax had been aware that something was going on, and apparently had his own way of getting Storm to spill the truth. That had all worked out in the end.
Wren’s not anything like Pax, though. Devon liked Pax – he was feisty, had no filter, his love for donuts rivaled Python’s obsession with his cars, and he was full of confidence. In other words, Pax was the perfect mate for Storm, the same as Wren was perfect for Devon.
But I’m not being fair to him, and that makes me nothing more than a lump of shit! It was getting more and more difficult for Devon to hide his thoughts with every passing minute.
Their two days in Big Sky were simple and wonderful.
During their shopping trip, Wren found a wallet that he liked easily enough, but Devon could tell as they wandered around various clothing stores, his mate’s heart wasn’t in it.
Devon bought him a suit just so that he’d have one, which Wren was happy to thank him for, but Devon noted how tense Wren’s shoulders had been when he tried it on.
Wren did buy a pair of boots – black leather with a bunch of shiny buckles. “They hug my legs,” he said, showing them off. “My suit pants can go over them, and they’d look like regular shoes.”
It was on the tip of Devon’s tongue to say Wren could have shoes as well as the boots, but he held himself back.
He did buy Wren a coat. The weather had turned colder overnight, and while neither he nor Wren would feel the cold much, due to their animal spirits, Devon explained that fitting in was important in public, which meant wearing a coat when everyone else did.
It was a long pale blue duffle coat with sheepskin lining and Wren admitted the softness was nice.
Devon knew Wren wasn’t being deliberately difficult – he was just testing out what his new style would look like.
They were in a thrift store, looking over knickknacks and craft items, when Devon noticed Wren lingering over something for the first time that afternoon.
It was a soft pink cardigan – hand knitted by the looks of it and decorated with discreet embroidered flowers around the cuffs.
Wren’s fingers were trailing over it, up and down the sleeves and around the neck, although his fingers dropped the moment he saw Devon watching him.
“It’s soft,” Wren said, with a bit of a shrug.
“I like how it feels against my fingers.”
“It’s cashmere.” Devon briefly touched the cardigan.
“You’ve got a good eye for fine things. With something like this, you’d have to handwash it.
You’d never want to put something like this in a dryer.
The best way to dry it would be to lay it out on a towel and let it dry naturally, otherwise the fibers will tighten, and it’ll shrink. ”
He reached for the hanger, taking it off the rail, checking the sizing label. “I’d really like to buy this for you. Would you wear it if I did that?”
“Only at home.” Wren’s cheeks were bright red, and he was looking over both shoulders as if worried about being overheard. “That would be all right, wouldn’t it? If no one can see? I can tell it was made for a woman to wear.”
“You’re going to make Flint so jealous when he sees you wearing this.
” Devon grinned, even as he was thinking, I’ll protect my mate’s right to wear this wherever he damn well pleases.
The Alley was a good start. “You know he’s going to want one, and I’m fairly sure this is a one of a kind. Oh, look. Should we get this, too?”
Removing the cardigan from the rack had revealed a pale pink waistcoat that was finely embroidered all over the front with red roses on green vines.
The back and lining were almost the same shade of gray as the suit Devon had bought for his mate.
“This would add a bit of your personality to that rather boring suit, don’t you think?
” Wren’s bright smile was answer enough.
Wren trusts me, and I’m abusing that trust. Devon hated the way that made him feel, and his bear wasn’t happy with him either.
By the evening of the second day, Devon’s guilt had reached a boiling point, and he was ready to snap.
They were curled up on the bed in their hotel room, ostensibly watching a movie, although only Wren was paying attention to the television screen.
Wren had been right about the bed – the mattress was extremely firm, and Devon missed his pillows.
I have to say something. Just spit it out, ask the questions, get those damn answers, and then I can cuddle my mate close, wipe away any tears, and we can move on with our life together. Just do it already!
“Hey, is everything all right? Didn’t you enjoy the movie?”
“Huh?” Devon looked up and saw the credits rolling up the screen. “I think I’d seen it before,” he said quickly, grabbing the remote and turning the television off. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I couldn’t watch it.” Wren looked down, but then it was as if he’d made some kind of decision, and he moved from being snuggled under Devon’s arm and sat upright, his legs curled under him.
Devon was struck by how guarded Wren seemed to be.
“This might sound weird – I don’t know if it’s normal or not – but my animal side is restless.
He’s telling me we’re in danger and he wants to come out and fight. ”
“Fight who? Where are these feelings coming from?” A deep pit started opening up in Devon’s stomach.
Wren hesitated and then said quietly, “Our mating bond.”
“Shit.” It was just three simple words from someone Devon could pick up one-handed, but those words punched him in the gut, snapped his chin with an uppercut, and if he hadn’t already been lounging against the headboard, Devon would’ve been flat on the floor.
“Am I reading things wrong?” Wren sounded so nervous. “Is there something wrong with my chameleon?”
And there was the revival slap Devon needed. “There is nothing wrong with your chameleon,” he said quickly, reaching over and taking one of Wren’s hands. “Don’t ever think that. Our animal sides are the truest part of who we are. They don’t play games. They don’t lie. They’ll never hurt us.”
He inhaled shakily and then said in a rush, “Your chameleon is picking up my worries through our bond. I promised Cyrus I would talk to you about when you were taken, the people who raised you, and details like that, and I’ve been hiding that from you because I didn’t want to see you upset.
I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I should’ve talked to you about it when it first came up. ”
Wren was silent, his eyes scrunched shut. Devon wasn’t sure if he was blocking out Devon’s words or thinking about something else entirely. Even their bond, the awareness Devon had of Wren in the back of his skull, was frozen, as if Wren wasn’t sure of their connection anymore.
“Is this about you thinking I’m frail and weak again?” Wren asked after the longest two minutes of Devon’s life. His eyes were still closed, and Devon could barely see his mate breathing.
There’s no way of answering that without getting me deeper in the shit. “I was being protective of you. The agency I work for was hounding Cyrus about interviewing you about that snake, and I didn’t want you anywhere near them.”
“The people you work for?” Frown lines appeared on Wren’s forehead. “Can’t they be trusted? I thought you were all the good guys.”
“The only people I trust in the entire world are you and the men who live in the Alley. I’m not saying the agency personnel don’t do any good.
I know they do. Many people, hundreds of them, are taken out every year.
People who the courts have set free, people with crimes so horrific that jail would be a vacation for them.
People who kill their victims before anyone can raise the alarm, leaving them to hurt innocents over and over again.
The network is huge – worldwide. They have resources I could only dream about, if I was that way inclined. ”
“Then why…?”
“They have no heart. They believe that the snake had to have had contacts with other people who were all involved in the same horrific crimes against children he perpetrated against you.” Devon wished Wren would open his eyes.
“They think you can give them information to help find those other people the snake was connected to.”
“I know how long it takes to scrub the four walls, floor, and ceiling of a standard bedroom with a toothbrush. I’m not sure how much that information would help, though.”
Noooooooo! The flat tones, the defeat and despair.
Everything Devon wanted to avoid for his mate.
“I told them you wouldn’t know anything.
I told them you never left the house and that snake would never have confided anything important to you.
I told Cyrus over and over again, that they should just leave you alone.
That they should check his apartment, check his phone, check whatever, but to leave you alone. You’ve already been through so much.”
“Did they check the snake tank in his bedroom?”
“What?” Devon vaguely remembered Wren mentioning it before. “The one you thought that used to have a snake in it? Was it still in the apartment?”