Page 105 of Awakening the Beast
Her bottom lip quivers, but she nods, her eyes glistening with relief. I lower my head, gently running my nose along her jawline with a deep inhale, eyes closed, feeling the load of the day settling on my shoulders. Yet, beneath that heaviness, there’s a flicker of something new—something lighter, something good. I know, deep down, that this is the beginning of a fresh chapter, a chance to build something together from the ashes.
“You gave me my freedom, baby,” I whisper, as tears sting my closed eyes. “You shattered the chains that held me captive in hell for far too long. I don’t fucking deserve you.”
I feel it crushing me from inside, everything I’ve been through, what we've been through together, but now how we can move onward without the burden of all the bullshit.
I lift my head, her eyes connecting with mine, seeing the emotion and love we both share. I release her hair as I lean back again and she follows me, lying her body on my chest. I run my hands up her thighs again as she stares at me, those big brown eyes, glittering against the flickering flames, keeping me mesmerized and in this moment, everything else melts the fuck away. It always does whenever I‘m around her.
I lift my hand, sweeping my fingers through her soft strands.
“Thank you, Wren. For everything.” I say sincerely with a small smile.
“I didn’t want it to be like this….”
“But it is.” I interrupt, reassuring her. “We can’t change what happened. People did what the fuck they did, and no matter how much hurt it fucking caused, it’s now about moving forward. Together. It’s over.”
“I just feel horrible because you told me about my mom and…”
“Shhhh…” I hush, pressing my finger to her pretty lips.
When she stops explaining her actions, because I honestly don’t give a fuck. I know her reasons, she doesn’t even need to justify them to me. I know we didn’t tell each other things just to protect one another. It wasn’t ever out of fucking malice. I know Wren inside and out. Her intentions for me, for our family are only genuine. That’s all I need to fucking know.
I tuck her hair behind her ear, my head tilting to the side, eyes soaking in her pretty features.
“If you didn’t find out, it would’ve never stopped.”
I wrap my hands around her ass, dragging her closer to me until our lips are touching.
“You did good, my dark angel. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Her gaze eases at my words, her body melting against mine. She lays her cheek on my shoulder, running her palm up my chest and for a moment, we just breathe.
It’s been a couple of months since everything came to light, and to say things have changed would be the understatement of the century. The darkness that once hung over us has lifted, leaving behind a new sense of lightness. We’re finding our way forward, and it feels like we're finally getting somewhere. Arlo is still Arlo—stubborn, arrogant, and undeniably himself—but I can see it in him, day by day. He’s beginning to feel, against all odds,happier.
The aftermath of everything was as messy as expected. For weeks, Arlo was knocked back slightly because we had to continuously explain to countless people why Carmella was no longer in our lives, and although it wastough, most came to understand that disloyalty and deceit have no place in our family or our lives. It never will again.
Arlo is slowly starting to accept his new family. His real mom, Vivienne, even if it’s with small steps. Jasper and he are closer than ever, and thankfully, he is even finding more trust in my mom.
I’ve decided to step back from the world of the Elite. My role felt complete the moment I saw Carmella fall to the ground with Arlo’s bullet in her head. It was as if my welcome into this worldhad a purpose—to expose truths that might have never come to light otherwise, and to help Arlo. Now, my purpose there is done, I don’t really need to be there. I’ll always be ready to stand by him if needed, but for now, with how short and precious life feels, I want to be at home with the kids, embracing the role of being a mom.
I’ll always carry the wisdom that I learned though, and if anything should happen again, I know I can always stand beside Arlo with my head held high because I was built for it, I’ve played my part, but for now, I’ll watch him from afar, sitting on his throne like the king he always is.
I’m so fucking proud of him and to call him mine.
When I step out of the private car, the warm night air kisses my skin as I gaze up at the grand, historic building looming before me. Its dark, imposing facade matches with the glittery, black bag I clutch tightly in my hands. I take a deep breath and move forward, my heels clicking against the pavement. A man in a tailored suit opens the door with a small bow, and I step inside.
The interior is as magnificent as the exterior, with walls of black matte covered partially with antique paintings. The silence is almost ghostly, heightening my confusion. This is where Arlo asked me to meet him for dinner, yet the place is completely empty.
I pause in front of a massive mirror, adjusting myself before I see him. The black, sparkly dress fits snugly, with off-the-shoulder ruffled sleeves and a trail that sweeps elegantly across the floor. My hair is styled in a pretty updo, with two loosestrands framing my face. The diamond necklace and earrings catch the light, adding a touch of sparkle.
A flicker of movement catches my eye in the shadows, and I notice another man standing by a set of grand double doors, framed by an arch of black and white sparkling roses. My brows knit together in curiosity as I walk towards him, my tall heels clicking with each step. He offers to take my bag, and I hesitantly hand it over. In exchange, he places a bouquet of black and white roses in my hands, gently ushering me through the doors.
My confusion grows, but I accept the flowers and step into the room. The door closes behind me with an echoing thud, and I glance down at the bouquet, my nose wrinkling slightly.
But when I finally lift my gaze, I am struck speechless, a gasp leaving me. The huge, dark, gothic hall that stretches out in front of me is only illuminated by candles—every inch of the floor is a sea of sparkling light, except for a narrow path. The candles are of various sizes, their flames flickering softly. The path is scattered with black and while rose petals, leading my eyes to the end where Arlo stands, alone. As I hear low classical music playing in the background, my focus is now entirely on him.
Dressed in a sharp black suit, he stands with his hands clasped in front of him. His presence almost makes my knees buck beneath me. I swallow hard, my emotions surging uncontrollably. Tears well up in my eyes as I take in the breathtaking scene, overwhelmed by the beauty here. The ceilings are so high I have to crane my neck, noticing it’s decorated with a beautiful masterpiece of angels and demons.
Taking a steady breath, I keep my gaze locked on Arlo as I start walking forward. Each step is slow, my long dress trailing behind me and brushing over the rose petals strewn across the floor. His eyes follow my every moved with an intensity that makes my heart throb, his emotions perfectly controlled as always.
