Awakened Flame (Dusk Series - Book 6)

Chapter 41 - Wren (Part 2)

Wren woke with a hell of a headache, and he turned over in some sort of cot. His eyes snapping open to the empty stone wall ahead as the events of the night prior flooded his mind. Remembering how he'd left Ghost had him sitting up like a spring board, his eyes roving the room for the only man who would dare touch him without fear of Tala's wrath. Ghost would do anything for Talamayas, even tear out his own soul if it meant Wren's return to his master's side.

No matter how well Vice had filled the role of Talamayas' sword and shield, he was a docile man, scarred by years of imprisonment and abuse, and deeply loving of those who cared for him. Ghost even more so without Stone to ground and balance him.

Doing this to him would have crushed Ghost.

Wren had cried and begged him to stop by the end, collapsed in terror and pain, and
Ghost had been all alone. Fear pumped adrenaline through Wren as he got up and searched for Ghost, hoping that there was anything he could do to fix this. What had he been thinking when he'd asked Pyre to torture him? Pyre would have never been enough, but Wren had not known that without his memories. Wren had accidentally forced Ghost into the position of torturing him, but it did not change the consequences. Getting his memories back was not worth Talamayas losing Ghost.

It didn't take much searching to find Ghost, but Wren froze dead in his tracks when he did. Ghost was there, certainly, on a bed in nothing but his sleek body suit, but his arms were wrapped around Pyre Cinder, and his mouth was nuzzled against his cheek like they were lovers. It drove heat through Wren's face to see them so intimate, followed by a chill of confusion and dread as he tried to unscramble that puzzle. Pyre was asleep flat on his back, but he had a hand under Ghost's neck and wrapped around into his hair. Did he know he was holding a vampire in his sleep? Even if he did, Ghost was not one to cling to others, none except Talamayas and Wren himself.

The scene was so unreal that Wren just plopped onto a chair next to their cot and dropped his face into his hands as he calmed his rapid heartbeat. At the least, Ghost was here, sleeping soundly and safe. Wren had feared he was still in that cell, shaking in a corner and panicking because he had no one to go to for comfort. It wasn't like he could seek any from Talamayas after he'd tortured his mate. Tala would have asked why he was upset, and Ghost would have felt obligated to tell him with the way they were completely open with one another.

That was not a conversation Wren wanted to hear.

"Are you going to cry some more?" The brusque nature of Pyre's cold voice lifted Wren's face to find him conscious on the bed.

Ghost shifted, threatening to wake, but Pyre ran his hand though his hair in a soothing roll until Ghost pulled himself closer, wrapped the man tightly in his arms, and rested his lips on his pulse. Like that, Ghost settled back into sleep, and Wren was left staring at the same ruthless eyes Pyre had always had. There was no kindness in them, no understanding as far as vampires went, and Wren was wondering if he was hallucinating at this point.

"Thank you for caring for Ghost," Wren managed despite none of this making sense. Whatever was going on didn't really matter as long as Ghost hadn't withered alone.

"Didn't do it for you," Pyre spat, like touching Ghost was an affront to everything inside of him. It should be with what Wren remembered of him. Cinders were not ones to have any relations with vampires short of taking their heads. They had completely rejected the idea of an alliance, and Blaze was the one who had kidnapped him with Riff.

"Well, thank you anyway," Wren ground out, fully understanding how Kopje could have hated him so much without his memories. He'd been just as much a dick as Pyre was now. "I did not expect you of all people to care for him."

"I don't," Pyre said, his eyebrows crunching despite his fingers trailing Ghost's hair as he roused more from their voices.

Ghost lifted himself as he woke, but he slumped forward and rested his forehead on Pyre's chest for a moment. A shallow inhale of breath had Ghost smelling his master and swinging around to sit and face Wren. Before their eyes met, Ghost dropped his head in an overly formal bow Wren was used to.

"Have your memories truly returned, Master?" Ghost's voice sounded fragile as he awaited Wren's condition.

"Yes, Ghost. Thank you. For everything you suffered for my sake." The words had Ghost squeezing Wren in a bone creaking hug not a moment later, and Wren returned his affection by cradling him against his chest. Wren was happy to have his memories back and ready to return home.

The only thing that spoiled the moment were Pyre's dead mahogany eyes burning into the back of Ghost's skull. If Wren could growl protectively, he would, but he settled for helping Ghost sit back up as he stood from his chair.

"We'll get out of your hair," Wren said, glancing down at himself for the first time. Someone had put him in new mage attire, though it had no emblem to denote a house. It would suffice as long as it was not soaked in blood, and he didn't feel grimy despite the night prior.

"I washed and clothed you," Ghost said when he realized he was looking.

"Yeah, I had no interest in seeing a dick that small." Pyre smirked, and Wren grunted his disgust in his direction. Though they'd known each other in a time long past, the Cinders and the Songs had never been chummy. Diplomatically parallel but not friends.

"I wish I could say it's been nice," Wren retorted, his lips firm with displeasure, but Pyre seemed to love every moment of discomfort.

"And it will continue to be because I'm going with you." Pyre's words made little and less sense, less so when he dropped a large tote bag on Ghost's shoulder. "Carry that for me."

"I would be happy to." Ghost's enthusiastic response had Wren closing his mouth before he swore at Pyre for using Ghost like a pack horse. It seemed like Ghost liked Pyre. Another three bags ended up slung over Ghost's shoulders, but he was a vampire so they weighed nothing to him, and Pyre led them out of his hideout like he was in charge of them. It irked Wren, but he had clearly missed something over the last week if Ghost was skipping after Pyre like a puppy excited to be pet.

There was so much going on now that he needed to figure out, even with his memories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word Count: 1185