Wren was used to predators. He worked with them daily. Eerie was something else entirely.
“Sit.” Eerie pointed to an empty chair by the window. Reluctantly, Wren folded himself into the chair, immediately getting attached by brushes and combs and pots of gunky, slimy stuff Eerie slapped all over his face.
He was pulled and turned and twisted and manhandled until he wanted to scream. He was shoved into Teddy’s clothes, forced to wear matching shoes they’d taken from Echo, and then positioned in front of a mirror to pretend he liked whoever the fuck it was looking back at him.
The person looked polished and neat. And human. His cursemark was covered with makeup, and his new contacts covered the glow from within. He looked normal. And he didn’t know why, but it was just wrong to see himself like that.
It felt wrong to look like he could have what he so desperately wanted, when it had already been taken from him earlier that day.
“WREN, WE’RE GOING!” Teddy called from downstairs, and Wren put a lid on his spiraling emotions, rushing toward the door to unlock it.
“Thanks for the help! Hope this never happens again.”
He sprinted down toward where the rest of the team were gathered, running through the plan for the evening once again. He paused halfway and took them all in.
Trace was dressed in all black but completely casual. Teddy was in tight jeans and a short-sleeved button-down he must havegrabbed from elsewhere in the house, and Wren had to stop himself from just going to him like a man possessed. Teddy had always been beautiful. Wren knew that. But he had never seen this version of him, and it made him ache.
Because he was supposed to be his friend. Because Saint stood next to him looking like he belonged on Teddy’s arm more than Wren ever could.
Saint was in flowy black pants with a wraparound shirt open at the chest, exposing tan skin. A polka-dotted belt, cuff, and collar draped around him, a string of large pearls resting at the base of his throat.
His hair was slicked back and done up in small curls, and his makeup was so elaborate he looked like a different person. No. He looked exactly like the person upstairs.
“I fucking hate this,” Saint whined, tugging at the pearls.
Teddy chuckled. “Quit complaining. You look beautiful.”
Wren felt bile rising in his throat. Teddy hadn’t even noticed he was there, too busy staring at Saint.
“I look like Eerie,” Saint grumbled.
Trace scoffed. “Hate to break it to you, man, but you always look like Eerie.”
“Fuck you,” Saint said, squirming more. “How the fuck does he do this, every day, on purpose?”
“He’s not all there.” Trace turned around and spotted Wren. “But we’re all here now, so let’s roll.”
“No, Wren—” Teddy started.
“Is right here,” Trace said, moving out of the way, and finally, Teddy found him.
Wren immediately felt hot as those eyes skimmed him. His earlier plea had clearly not had any effect because Teddy looked at him the way he wasn’t supposed to. The way he’d agreed he wouldn’t. Every inch of exposed skin at each vulnerable point was examined—neck, sides, naval and everything in between. Hefelt like a creature lying belly up, begging for notice, care, and attraction.
Wren knew what desire used to look like clouding those eyes, and he saw a tantalizing glimpse of it surfacing under a storm he couldn’t name.
Wren took the last few steps before he fell down them, and Teddy met him as he reached the last one as if drawn by a magnet. With the height of the step, they were face-to-face, and Teddy was looking at him like he was seeing him for the first time.
His gaze settled finally on where Wren’s mark was covered, his eye no longer pale green and luminescent.
“How?” Teddy asked, reaching up as if ready to touch his cheek.
“Don’t,” Wren begged softly, because he knew he’d shatter if Teddy touched him there. Teddy curled his fingers into a fist before he could touch, coming back to himself. He took a step back, seemingly feeling the pressure of all the other eyes in the room.
Trace cleared his throat into the awkward air. “We should go.”
“Yeah. You’re not going to get me to do this again anytime this century,” Saint said.
Sable bounced toward Wren as he was exiting the house, and he leaned down to hug him around the neck.
