Page 46 of Cuddles for the Bear
Me?That’s what Wren meant to say, but when his mouth opened, a huge scream came out of his mouth.
“Again,” Devon urged as the sound ebbed away.
Wren screamed, and then he screamed again. It was as if there was a huge hand on his chest, pushing at his lungs, forcing out the sound. But with each scream, it also felt as if a huge weight he didn’t know he was carrying was falling off his shoulders. Wren was so relieved he screamed again.
Words fell from his throat, pushed up by the pressure on his chest. “I hate what they did to me. I hate that no one cared. I hate that people blindly followed that…that ASSHOLE and let me go without a second thought. No one wanted me. No one cared. No one asked what happened to me. I don’t know where I came from. I don’t know what happened to my parents, and I probably never will. I can’t miss them because I’ve never seen them – maybe they don’t care either. No. One. Did. Until you.”
Wren turned, facing his precious mate who was watching him, listening to him, being there for him when no one else had been.“You came. You saved me, but all I can think is that if you’d been one hour later, or a week later, I’d already be dead – either by that snake shifter’s hand or my own. Just thinking that, thinking what that would’ve done to you, kills me inside. I was being so selfish, but I…I…couldn’t see a way out, and then you came. You came.” Tears streamed down Wren’s face. “You’ve made me so happy, and I love you so much. Now the pastor’s dead, I should be dancing in the middle of the road, but I can’t stop crying! Why is this happening? WHY?”
“You’ve been holding yourself together for so long, babe. You’ve been strong, telling everyone you’re fine, and for the most part, you are. You laugh, you smile, you love, you’ve made friends, and you’ve become your own person. But part of what makes you uniquely you is someone who was abused, who wasn’t cared for the way you deserved to be, and you’ve got every right to feel sad and angry about that.
“That’s where the tears are coming from, babe, why you want to scream to the stars. That pain and hate doesn’t belong inside of you, which is why you want to get it out.”
“What happens when I do that?” Wren rubbed his chest. “I feel so empty and achy now.”
“I can help with that.” Devon stepped closer, and Wren sighed as his mate’s arms held him against a firm chest. “Your last tie to that past life is now gone. You’re free to move into a happy, bright, and positive future, filled with a mate who loves you and who will care for you always. You have a found family and true friends who will always look for you if you’re not around.”
“I know I have that. I do. That’s why I don’t understand this ache inside.” Wren nestled against his mate’s chest, closing his eyes as he focused on the steady thump of Devon’s heart.
“That’s where the healing begins, my precious love. You will heal and be stronger than ever, I promise you that.”
“I do wish…” Wren couldn’t put his thoughts into words, or he’d be crying all over again.
But it seemed Devon knew what he couldn’t say. “The Fates are never wrong, precious. They cut things a bit close with you and me, just as they did with Storm and Pax, but I was always meant to love you, and I have from the moment I held you in my arms that first time. Back when you called me Bear.”
“I still call you Bear in my head,” Wren admitted. “You meant so much to me even before we met.” Lifting his head, he noticed Devon was still watching him. “There were days when it was all I could do to wait until I had the apartment to myself, so I could check my messages. Does it bother you when I say things like that?”
“No, babe. Anytime you want to talk about your past, just do it. This” - Devon’s finger wiped away the last of Wren’s tears – “What you’re going through is how people process trauma. Your pain will always be a part of you – we can’t wash away our past. But over time, that pain does get less, until you barely think of it at all. Never hold back from talking to me anytime you need to. I will always be there for you. Always.”
“I wish I understood why it happened now,” Wren mumbled. He was starting to feel better, so screaming was probably a good idea. “I’ve been with you for weeks. We’ve been happy. I’ve had so much fun. Why didn’t it happen before?”
“I’m no psychiatrist, but I think, when we were back in the vampire’s house…”
“I wasn’t worried about you killing the pastor.” Wren popped a hand over his mouth. “Oh, was I not meant to say that? I know he had to die, and that wasn’t my decision, that was someoneelse’s, but it didn’t bother me, what you did, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I hadn’t actually thought about that.” Devon chuckled. “What I think happened is that when you heard the pastor – how condescending and completely unbothered he was about you being there…”
“Oh, yes! Yes!” Wren pulled out of Devon’s arms, looking up at his mate. “He was so damned smug, and did you see all his things? Poor people paid for those things. He didn’t care about them. He didn’t care about what hell he’d sent me to. He was just so…so…so…”
“He was an absolute asshole.” Devon nodded. “And now he’s gone, and you and I are here, about an hour’s drive from a lovely hot bath, room service, and a king-sized bed. I’m looking forward to enjoying them all. What about you? Are you feeling any better, or did you want to scream some more?”
No, Wren didn’t need to do that. He had everything he needed standing in front of him. “I want you to kiss me, and then you need to carry me back to the car, because my legs feel like noodles now. If I nap on the drive, then I’ll be awake to enjoy all those things and more. Should I be asking if that will work for you?”
“You already know it does.” Wren found himself swept off his feet, and as Devon kissed him, something settled in his heart.My bear, my home, my love.
Always, my precious Wren. Always.
Epilogue
At Cyrus’s workshop – POV Cyrus.
“Hey, babe,” Python called out from the back of the workshop. “I seriously think we need to build another shed. We’re running out of parking around here.”
“We don’t need any more parking.” Cyrus chuckled as he wiped the grease from his hands. “There’s plenty of parking in front of the workshop for customers.”
“That’s customers. What about me and my cars?”
“What about you and your cars?” Cyrus’s chuckles turned into laughter. It was a common complaint from his car-obsessed mate. “You already have seven vehicles, and admittedly there’s not a lot of space left in the alley outbuildings for more of them, but why would you want any more anyway? You have a different car for every day of the week.”
