18. A New Home

18

A NEW HOME

They pulled up in front of a stately home on the outskirts of Cartfalls, right on the edge of the forest.

It wasn't intimidatingly huge like Blade's mansion. In fact, it was a smaller house, a two-story single family home with a large lawn full of wildflowers, pretty French windows looking in, and a pebble-lined path leading up to the double front doors.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Wren asked for the umpteenth time.

Fang took Wren's hand and sank his teeth lightly into Wren's wrist, making him gasp. "I have space here for you, for as long as you choose to stay."

"And... And the price?"

"No price."

Wren wasn't sure what he felt about that. He liked it when Fang made him take off his clothes; he liked it when Fang pushed open his legs and studied him thoroughly.

Fang was watching him carefully. "You don't like that deal?"

Wren squirmed. "It feels too good to be true when there's no price."

Fang huffed. "Well, you don't want to discuss what happened on the night of your heat."

Heat surged through Wren's face. "N-no, not yet."

"What if I said your unconditional stay is because of that?"

Wren bit his lip, his heart thumping. Truth be told, he really didn't have anywhere else to go. He had no money, and even though he could crash with Joey, or maybe even Quinlan, he wasn't as comfortable with their alphas as he was with Fang. And his friends were in such tooth-rotting love that Wren didn't want to be a third wheel under their roofs.

"I'll stay," Wren said quickly.

Fang huffed again. "You should know that you're free to come and go as you please, but for your and her safety, it's best that Steffie remains out of sight."

Wren nodded. "I've been keeping her safe for two whole months."

"You'll get meals and a bed here. Until you decide to move in properly, we'll stash your things in the garage. You can stay as long as you please."

Wren nodded again.

"Any questions?"

Wren hesitated. Before he could answer, the front door burst open and someone yelled, "Boss Master! You're home to whip the house into shape!"

Fang sighed, pressing his face into his palm.

Wren understood how he felt. The butlers could be... overwhelming at times. So he reached across the center console, lightly grasping Fang's forearm.

Fang met his gaze, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Thanks, Birdie."

"You can count on me, too," Wren blurted.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Fang's smile grew. It made him look younger, and even more charming. "Well, I guess it's time to properly introduce you to my staff."

"Your staff? More than one?"

"Just the one." Fang jerked his head toward the rapidly-approaching man.

Hector bounced up to the car with a fluttering rainbow handkerchief. "Oh, how incredibly touching! Boss Master is finally finding love after all the years he spent in aching loneliness—"

Fang's arm shot out. He grabbed Hector around the throat, eyes narrowed.

But Hector only smiled. "Ah, you show your adoration in such strange ways." At Wren's uncertain look, Hector flapped his hand dismissively. "Boss Master won't hurt me. I know too many of his secrets."

"So I should silence you," Fang grumbled.

"I'm sure Wren would love to hear about the time you wore your boxer-briefs dipped in strawberry sauce—"

"Strawberry sauce?" Wren blurted.

Fang sighed deeply and shoved Hector away from the car. "Get Steffie and head into the house, Birdie. I'll unload your things." He hesitated. "But if you have some energy you can spare... This place needs warding."

Maybe Fang would be more willing to share his strawberry sauce story if Wren helped to make his home safe. Wren nodded, wrapping Steffie into her spelled backpack before heading for the front door. "Let me set Steffie down first."

"Of course." Fang grabbed the travel crib and followed him.

"Ah." Hector trailed after them. "Boss Master is completely whipped."

Fang glared. Hector beamed.

"You hardly know me," Fang growled.

"Is this an invitation to get to know you better?" Hector waggled his eyebrows.

"Fuck off," Fang said. "I only hired you because I didn't think you would be this much of a traitor."

Hector cackled.

The moment they stepped into the house, Fang studied the place, sniffing and cocking his head as though listening. But he relaxed after a moment, leading Wren upstairs to a series of bedrooms. Wren stared at the paintings of forests on the walls, the wallpaper covered in simple drawings of leaves. Fang paused at a room next to a set of double doors.

"Your guestroom," Fang said. "I'll move your things up here in a few minutes."

"Okay." Wren glanced at the double doors. "Um, that wouldn't happen to be your bedroom, would it?"

Fang's gaze darkened. "If it is?"

"Nothing." Wren blushed. "I won't... hear sounds?"

"Do you want to be hearing sounds from my room?" Fang took a step closer, looming over Wren in a heady, breath-stealing kind of way.

"Maybe."

Fang's mouth curved in a tiny smile. He set up Steffie's crib next to the guest bed, and headed back out of the room.

Except he paused at his own door, opening it to leave it ajar. "You may look around in there, if you'd like. Feel free to ask any questions."

Wren stopped breathing. He'd never even considered that Fang would give him access to somewhere so intimate.

But he had to do the wards first—he had to make sure Fang's home was safe.

Steffie looked up when he set her in the crib. "I'll be back soon," Wren said. "I can't take you along with me right now. It's not safe for you out there."

Thankfully, she didn't scrunch up her face and start crying.

Fang had left the floor by the time Wren stepped out of his guestroom. Wren stared at the double doors and fidgeted.

A quick decision made, he nudged open Fang's bedroom door, just to peek inside.

Fang's bedroom walls were painted a rich navy blue, and his bed was large, plush, with a soft-looking duvet the color of an evergreen forest, and wooden furniture decorating the space—his headboard, dresser, and nightstands all looked to be carved from the same sort of wood.

It was a really nice room, smelling like Fang and the forest. And Wren was so tempted to burrow under Fang's covers.

But first, the wards.

Wren hurried back to Fang's car, where he pulled out his ward-making supplies. Fang was lifting the heaviest boxes out of the trunk. "Um, do you have some rocks or bricks I could use?"

"They're in the garage. Take whatever you need."

Wren nodded his thanks and scurried away, pausing just inside the house when he realized he didn't know how to get inside the garage, since its large doors were still closed.

"Need help?" Hector popped up next to him with a grin.

"Yes, please."

Before Wren could say another word, Hector led the way. Wren couldn't help blurting, "Why are you working for Fang even though he doesn't seem to like you much?"

"Ah." Hector laughed. "‘Like' and ‘trust' are two different things. He doesn't have to like me to trust that I will do my job well."

He tipped his head to the side, as though listening. Then he grinned gleefully. "Such cruel words, Boss Master. To think I gave you an armful of candy for Yuletide when you were seven!"

Wren was glad, suddenly, that Fang had Hector around the house to help. "Did Fang say something?"

"He told me to keep my yapping mouth shut around you." Hector snickered. "But I have so many funny stories about him."

Wren wanted to hear those stories, a lot. "I need to set up the wards first."

"Please, go ahead."

In the garage, Wren found some bricks stacked in a pile. He gathered four and brought them to the grassy backyard, where he spread them around himself.

Could he really do this? Not all in one day, probably, because his magical reservoir was so shallow. But he could build upon the wards every day that he was here, strengthening the barrier until he could be sure Steffie and Fang were safe.

In his mortar, he ground up a bouquet of herbs for protection: sage, rosemary, bay leaf and cinnamon. When they'd become a fine powder, Wren dug a sterile knife into his wrist, letting his blood drip onto the herbs.

Fang was next to him in an instant. "You're using your blood?" he growled.

Wren startled. "I'm combining the spell with blood magic to make the foundation ward as strong as I can."

"Use mine." Fang held out the same elbow he'd offered the first time; his cut was now scabbed up. With the smallest incision he could manage, Wren cut Fang a little further down, holding his arm over the mortar to collect his blood.

"I don't really like to see you bleeding," Wren admitted. "I don't like seeing you hurt."

Fang raised an eyebrow. "And you think I enjoy seeing you bleed?"

Wren blinked, his heart stumbling. "I... had not thought of that."

Fang snorted. "Well, start thinking it."

They waited together for Fang's blood to pool in the mortar with Wren's. Wren found himself lightly stroking around Fang's wound to help ease the ache in any way he could.

"I appreciate your concern," Fang murmured, leaning in suddenly.

His kiss was soft, chaste, and it left Wren's lips tingling.

Fang gave him a crooked grin.

"O-oh," Wren mumbled.

"I have every intention of courting you, you know."

"Me?" It came out as a squeak.

Fang laughed. "Yes."

And he reached over with his other hand, slipping his fingers under Wren's shirt to brush his knuckles against Wren's belly.

Wren gulped. "Still not thinking about it."

Fang's smile turned indulgent. He glanced down at the red-filled mortar, nodding at it. "Is that enough blood?"

"For now, yes," Wren said. "You should save your blood so you're strong enough to fight."

"I want this house to be protected for... a long time," Fang whispered.

Wren didn't ask him to elaborate. He snatched up a wad of gauze and pressed it over Fang's cut, bandaging him up.

Fang didn't leave immediately, though. He caught Wren by his arm and patched him up, too, watching as Wren stirred the blood and herbs together.

When he was satisfied with the slurry's consistency, Wren dipped a fine-tipped brush into it. He began writing runes, small ones to fit on the bricks. Each brick held the same set of runes, spilling over the top surface to flow over every side.

"Will they wash off in the rain?" Fang asked when Wren set down his paintbrush.

Wren shook his head. "Magic will hold it all together."

"What spells did you write on there?"

"Protection. It'll keep out anyone who has any kind of bad intention. It'll keep out damaging forces, too, like missiles. It'll give you a warning when someone starts to attack the barrier, and I've also written some spells to camouflage its existence. And something to make it permanent."

"That's... a lot of spells." Fang looked impressed. Then, worried. "Is it going to drain you?"

Wren squirmed. "A little bit?"

Fang narrowed his eyes. "That was a lie."

Wren couldn't help wincing. "I want the best protection for Steffie and you. My wards are kind of basic, but with enough magic..."

"It doesn't mean you should kill yourself setting it up!"

Under Fang's fierce stare, Wren said, "I'll use the least amount of magic possible to activate them."

It made him uneasy to start a foundation spell with that little magic, but this was a huge undertaking. Wren didn't think he had enough power for even half of it.

"Fine," Fang growled.

Wren squeezed Fang's hand to reassure him. "I think the runes are dry. Let's set them up."

Fang carried the bricks and leftover blood mixture. At the furthest corner of the property, they stopped. Wren pointed out the spot he wanted a brick to be buried.

While Fang grabbed a shovel, Wren trickled his magic into the first brick. One by one, the spells glowed a soft white.

Fang had already dug a hole in the ground, two feet deep, by the time Wren activated the last spell.

"Is this deep enough?" Fang asked.

Wren nodded and knelt next to the hole, carefully aligning the brick at the bottom of it. Then he stood back and let Fang fill the hole with soil.

They repeated the same process for each corner of the property. Just that Wren was panting by the time Fang buried the fourth brick. His insides felt as though they'd been wrung completely dry.

He was running out of magic. The past two days of driving had been surprisingly peaceful; he'd been able to store up some magic in his reservoir. But twenty spells were way beyond his limit, even with rest.

He looked at the blood mixture left over in the mortar, trying to reach the place inside him that Mom said had more power. "I have to line the perimeter, too."

Fang frowned. "Can't it wait ‘til tomorrow?"

"The cornerstones alone are not enough," Wren protested. "It needs—"

Fang wrapped his hand around Wren's wrist. "Look."

Wren followed his gaze and found his fingers trembling. He made a face, the unease in his stomach growing. "Setting up a barrier spell halfway leaves untied magic floating around. Someone could find out what we're trying to do, and take the chance to attack."

Fang narrowed his eyes. "I'll keep watch until you can finish it up."

"Not through the whole night!"

"That's why we have Hector guarding the place, too."

Wren sagged. "I just... I'd feel safer having the barrier up. It's best if this is an uninterrupted process."

Fang snarled, his eyes blazing. "Safety is important, but I don't want you throwing your life away. I won't risk you."

If Fang had threatened him for any other reason, Wren would've shrunken back. But this was Fang fighting over him, and... Wren hadn't had anyone yell at him for his own sake before.

"O-okay," Wren panted. "I just... I'm still anxious about this. Anxious about dangers that will probably not happen. It's mostly beyond my control, unless you... you overwhelm me with other things."

Fang's gaze darkened. "Like when I have you in my bed?"

Wren nodded. "It feels good when you take control and I don't have to worry as much."

Fang watched him for a long moment. "I'll remember that."

Wren cracked a smile. It faded when he glanced back at his mortar of blood slurry. If they stopped for today, the mixture would congeal and turn useless. "I don't want to waste this. It's your blood. Can I please just—"

"Is it going to drain you beyond repair?" Fang narrowed his eyes.

Wren bit his lip. "I don't know. I've never done such a huge spell before."

"Then no, you're not doing it."

"But your blood—"

"I have more blood that you can take another day. You're exhausted. For the rest of today, you're going to rest."

"But—"

Fang leaned in and kissed Wren, his tongue sliding demandingly into Wren's mouth. "No more for today." He pushed his tongue in again, owning and claiming Wren inside. Wren shuddered.

"All right?" Fang murmured against his lips. "We've had a long day of driving. Rest tonight, and when we wake up tomorrow, you can work on the barrier spell again."

"All right," Wren mumbled. It still didn't sit right with him, but the way Fang wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders—that helped.

Fang gathered the mortar and paintbrush. "Now, we're going back in. We've left Steffie alone for long enough."

"Steffie!" Wren's stomach clenched with guilt. He'd been so preoccupied with the barrier spell that he'd completely forgotten about her.

"Birdie," Fang growled. "You've had a long day. Cut yourself some slack."

He manhandled Wren into the guestroom, where a shaggy wolf was frolicking in front of the crib. Steffie giggled.

Wren froze. The wolf glanced at them and barked once, before it turned into a man—Hector.

"The poor dear was starting to sound sad," Hector said cheerfully, pulling on his pants. "I thought it'd help if I got her used to seeing wolves around."

"Wolves? Plural?" Wren blurted.

Fang scowled at his butler. "He probably means my parents. They have plans to visit."

But the way Hector waggled his eyebrows, it felt like Fang was leaving something out.

Fang set the paintbrush and mortar on a dresser, before pushing Wren gently onto the bed. Then he crouched in front of Wren and pulled off his shoes. "Sleep."

"It's still broad daylight!" Exhaustion had begun to seep into Wren's bones, though, slowing him down.

"Sleep." Fang drew the curtains—they were nice blackout curtains, and the darkness made Wren's bed seem even more welcoming. Fang scooped Steffie into his arms. "I'll watch the munchkin."

"Fine." Wren yawned widely, slumping against his pillows. Fang's house would be safe for a few more hours. When a familiar hand stroked up and down his back, his entire body relaxed, and his eyelids grew heavy.

He was asleep before he knew it.

Wren woke up some hours later with a rumbling stomach. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was; he panicked and reached for a lamp, flipping it on.

Bright golden light filled the room. He was in Fang's guestroom, and Steffie was in her crib next to him.

They were safe. That was good.

He turned back to the lamp to switch it off, only to freeze when he realized his hands were a shade darker than usual.

No, it wasn't that his skin had changed.

There was fur growing all over his hands.

He screamed.