Page 154 of Bound

Wren tried to keep from rolling her eyes—honestly, she did. But the way his smile grew, she knew she hadn’t been successful. “Wouldn’t it be more pleasing if I bought something for you?”

Braum shook his head adamantly. “Not just something. I want to get you a gift. Out of all these stalls, there must have been something you’ve wanted. Wished you could have had, was impractical.”

Wren’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You want me to pick something frivolous. For you to buy me just because.”

He drummed his fingers against the counter and stood up straight. “Now we understand one another.”

Not at all. Because that seemed a silly sort of thing to do. The market was for necessities.

Or... had been.

When she was young and with her mother, and coin did not stretch too far.

This was new. And she could either be stubborn or she could bend. A little.

To keep that smile on Braum’s face, because she liked the way it made her stomach tighten when she saw it.

“And what if I cannot come up with anything of the sort?”

He leaned forward ever so slightly. “Indulge me. Please. Unless you’ve more custom?”

He glanced about, as if invisible mothers were standing behind in a queue.

The trouble was, she did know where she would go. What she’d pick.

And he must have seen it in her eyes because he was suddenly in the stall with her, taking up her hand and pulling her free of its confines. “Come along, then.”

Too observant, her Braum. Frustrating to the extreme.

Except when it wasn’t.

She still made a great show of huffing and slowing her pace, which he matched as he smiled at her too often every time he glanced down at her.

The walk wasn’t far. Never had been.

They were neighbours after all.

She’d seen Firen a few times since that horrid incident when she’d introduced Braum. The smiles were forced, and Wren hadn’t known what to say—not when she wasn’t willing to admit even to herself what Braum truly was.

She was sorry for it. Sorry for a great many things.

Sorrier still when she saw Firen’s anxious look between the two of them as they approached, her eyes landing on their entwined fingers before she glanced to Wren instead. “I...” she began, but Wren shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she offered. “I’m sorry for how I behaved that day. For hurting you. You were only being truthful.” She swallowed, and if her heart beat a little faster, it was because she was glad. “This is my mate, Braum. And we’d like to buy one of your chimes for our tree.”

“Oh!” Firen’s hands went to her mouth. And if her eyes grew misty, then so did Wren’s, so it was all right. And if they hugged, it was because they had something to mend between them.

She did not even grow jealous when Firen embraced Braum as well.

???

Wren couldn’t sleep. She wanted to. Or... thought she should want to.

Merryweather was asleep in her yarn basket downstairs, too cosy by the hearth to bother making the trek up to the loft.

Wren did not sleep well without her. That was all.

Having a man in her bed—a mate in her bed—did not change how she felt about Merry and her company. Not at all.