Page 12 of Cuddles for the Bear
“I guess. It would be rude not to. I can eat the sandwich after, right?” Bear nodded, so Wren handed over his sandwich and leaned over, peering into the box Pax was holding out. “Is that chocolate?” he asked, pointing at one with dark-looking sprinkles on it.
“Perfect choice for your first time,” Pax said as Wren took that one, and he took another, handing the box to Storm. “You need to take a nice big bite,” he added. “There is no point nibbling a donut. You don’t get to the gooey bits in the middle if you do that.”
“You would eventually,” Storm chuckled as Pax took a huge bite.
Wide-eyed at the way Pax groaned, Wren quickly took a sniff, then opened his mouth wide and took a big bite. A rush of sugary sweetness, along with a tart chocolate undertone filled his mouth. “Hmmm. HMMM.” Wren chewed and quickly swallowed. “That is magic in my mouth.” He pointed at the half donut he had left. “Magic!”
“You get it. We’re going to be such good friends.” Pax popped the last of his donut in his mouth. “I know,” he mumbled around his mouthful. “I’ll leave the rest, Storm. I’m not that much of an addict. But you’d better be up early to restock my supplies when Gwen opens in the morning. She has twelve different flavors of donuts now. Twelve!”
That sounded like a lot, but Wren couldn’t answer as his mouth was full of donut. Storm left the box on the porch, and then he and Pax waved and ran off, back to their little house. For some reason, Wren had to double blink again as his eyesight blurred. “You have such lovely friends,” he said quietly, resting his cheek on Bear’s chest. “I wish I could stay with you forever and ever.”
That rumble sound came from Bear’s chest again, but all he said was, “I want that, too.”
“Hmm.” Wren closed his eyes, and that was all he knew.
Chapter Nine
Devon was glad that Wren had managed to fall asleep. The way Wren's body relaxed, the way he snuggled into Devon's chest, the tightness in Devon’s shoulders eased as he appreciated the moment. They were safe and among friends.Pax even shared some of his donut stash.Devon grinned at the idea. That was a huge sacrifice for the sugar-loving pixie.
His other friends’ gifts were just as thoughtful, from the sandwiches and hot chocolate Wren hadn’t had a chance to try, to the clothes from Flint. It was a good feeling, being back home, among the trees, breathing in the cool night air – such a far cry from where they’d been less than an hour before.
The memory of seeing Wren perched up on that ledge would be etched permanently in Devon’s brain for years to come. That tiny ledge, probably no more than six inches wide. The hellish long distance from the fourth-story window and the ground… Devon shook his head as if he could shake the image out of his brain, and his arm around Wren tightened just a little more.
Whoever said the Fates work in mysterious ways was right. It was tempting to chuckle, although the situation was anything but funny. If Devon hadn't been there in that moment, if Wren had taken that final step… Devon’s bear stirred and growled deeply, and as if recognizing their agitation, Wren pressed closer, his slender fingers wrapped around Devon’s lapel.
There’s a big difference between a step and a jump,Devon reasoned. Wren hadn’t wanted to jump off that ledge, or he’d have already done it while Devon was trying to convince Michael to let him be the one to enter the apartment. Something deep inside Wren had made him want to cling to life, even as his exhaustion was pushing him to do the unthinkable.He’s here.He’s safe. He’s ours and one day soon,Devon hoped,he’ll know it too.
Inhaling deeply, Devon took in Wren's scent. It was strange, unique, beautiful in Devon’s opinion, and it definitely stirred him in ways that really weren't appropriate given the setting. He shifted a bit in the chair to get more comfortable. The last thing Wren needed after what he’d been through was a nagging dick tapping his thigh.
Despite his bear being incredibly accurate at being able to identify different scents, Devon wasn't able to pick up the type of shifter that Wren was. The paranormal tinge to his scent was so slight, it would be easy to think Wren was human.
Michael said that he specifically bought a shifter.Was Wren’s scent stronger when he was younger?Devon sniffed again. He did get a touch of “other” in Wren's scent, but it was so deep, so faint, it was barely there.What type of shifter could do that?
Thinking back over what that asshole Michael had told him, it was logical to assume that Wren would have been on the brink of shifting if he had been sold at age fourteen. But where did he come from? Why was he being sold by people who knew he was a shifter, but they weren't his parents? Why was he sold at all?
None of that made any sense to Devon, and he had a sinking feeling in his gut, knowing he was going to have to have some long and probably uncomfortable conversations with his mate. That worry aside, because Devon hadn’t forgotten Cyrus had mentioned the agency would likely want to interview Wren as well, Devon focused on trying to work out what Wren was.
Devon studied paranormal types in his spare time. Although most of his assassin work involved taking out humans, there were increasing times when he and his friends had to deal with rogue paranormals as well. Devon lived by the belief thatknowledge was power, and he liked to go into any situation with the most advantages he could.
But in all that he knew about shifters in particular, Devon couldn't think of any breed that had the ability to hide itself from other shifters, especially their scent. There were cases where a shifter could use magical means – a potion, spray, or something similar – to mask their scent for a certain length of time, but that was external manipulation of an existing scent. Hiding a scent completely was virtually impossible. And yet, the more Devon thought about it, the more he had to wonder,is that what happened?
If Wren was a prey animal - the type Michael preferred – then it was plausible that if the animal half was on the verge of shifting, its fight/flight response might have kicked in. But in most shifters, that caused the animal side to shift prematurely rather than delay it.
There was another concern Devon couldn’t ignore. Wren implied that he didn't know anything about the paranormal world at all. On the one hand, that meant Michael hadn't shifted in front of him, which was a positive,and a huge assumption,Devon reminded himself. But if it was assumed that Michael never shifted in front of him, and Wren for some reason didn't know that he was paranormal himself...
Devon sniffed again just to make sure.
No, Wren was very definitely paranormal, a shifter of some sort. Not one that Devon had come across before.But what type of shifter suppresses themselves to the point of not going through their first shift?He thought about Pax, who had known that he was a pixie from birth, but had been told that because he was a pixie without wings, he was apparently an embarrassment to the whole pixie race. Devon couldn’t believe it when all thatnonsense came out. Pax was an incredible young man. He wasn’t born with wings because he was a rare omega pixie. Apparently the lore was that Pax wouldn’t get his wings until his mate had claimed him, which Storm had, and Pax learned to fly.
Devon studied his sleeping mate. The man had long lashes lying against the tired bruised skin under his eyes. He had a button nose and full lips that were open slightly as Wren’s chest rose and fell. Devon’s heart gave an extra thump.You’re mine, sweet Wren, even if you don’t know it yet. You’ll come to learn I’m not like Michael, I swear to you, it’s not that sort of “mine.” In this case, I’ll be yours just as much, if not more.
Which was all wishful thinking for now. Devon knew he couldn’t claim his mate until Wren understood what being a mate was all about – what being a shifter was all about, for that matter.
Sighing softly, Devon got the chair rocking again.We've always chosen to live in the moment, and this moment is a good one,he reminded his edgy bear. Seeing Wren on the ledge hadn’t done his animal side any favors either, although his bear was a lot calmer, now that Wren was in their arms.I hope things don’t get too messy before they get better for our Wren.
Thinking of mess, Devon sent out a mental thanks to Python and Cyrus. He had no doubt that Michael would already be dead by now.I wouldn't be surprised if Python turns up with snakeskin boots in the morning,he thought with a quiet chuckle. He’d rock for a little while longer, making sure Wren was getting a decent sleep, and then he’d take him inside and surround him with every soft cushion on his bed.A den within a den, that’s what we’ll do.There would be no more floor sleeping for his precious mate.
Chapter Ten
