Page 12 of Awakening the Beast
Everything feels like a blur as I take the seat close beside her, resting my arm on the bed. Voices murmur around us, and people move about, examining Wren, but my focus is locked solely on her. The way she breathes, the rise and fall of her chest, the sheen of sweat that makes her golden skin glow—I'm completely lost in her beauty. How can someone be in so much pain yet still look like a fucking goddess? Wren fucking Hayes, that's who.
To say I missed her is a fucking understatement. I thought I loved her before, but almost losing her showed me the true depth of it. I’ve felt that emptiness, and I’ll never let it happen again. I might have been broken physically, but mentally—without her or Cree—it nearly fucking destroyed me. I can’t even count how many times I forced myself out of that bed, yanking out tubes of my body like a madman, just trying to get to them. Sometimes, I wonder how I made it through that shit at all.
I get why this has shattered her. How could I not? I grieved for Bridge—I watched the woman I loved be lowered into the ground, but she never came back from the fucking dead. Wren’s shock and pain makes sense. I've been there, full of doubts and questions, but she’ll understand soon that I’m not going anywhere. I won't be leaving her again, and I’ll pull her out of her darkness, just like she did me. That’s what we do—what we’ve always done. That’s what our love is, no matter how fucking twisted and sadistic it might be.
As I watch her hand glide over her bump, her engagement ring catching the light, it hits me. We’ve got a lot to talk about—conversations waiting, things we need to set straight—but she’s right She probably needs some space right now, but from my own experience, I can’t help but worry that if I pull away too much, she might never come back from it. So, being the asshole I am, I smothering her instead, pushing too hard for her to accept my return. I know it’s a shitty move on my behalf, I've never been perfect or claimed to be, but it’s my fucked-up way of showing that I’m not going anywhere.
After a while, I hear a nurse mention something about our baby's heartbeat dropping, and my heart fucking drops with it. My head whips around as I try to catch every word of their hurried conversations about getting Wren down to the OR. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wren's head snap up, her eyes wide with fear as she watches the nurses.
I turn back to her, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’ll both be fine; I’ll be with you the entire fucking time,” I promise, reaching up to stroke her hair gently.
She squeezes her eyes shut, throwing her head back against the pillow, and I stand, my heart racing as they prepare to move her to the operating room.
As we’re wheeled into the OR, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely panicking inside. My mind is racing, and though I’m doing everything I can to stay calm, the worry is eating me up.All I can think about is her—our baby—and the hope that nothing goes wrong.
The anaesthesiologist gives the epidural, and slowly, I begin to lose all sensation from the waist down. It’s a strange feeling, but as soon as they set up the screen in front of us to block our view of the surgery, reality sinks in hard. I glance up at Arlo, my eyes watery. He stands beside me, dressed in blue scrubs, looking strangely out of place yet; powerful, like nothing could break him.
I catch him trying to peek over the screen, his curiosity betraying him. He’s not one to shy away from blood or gore; hell, considering what he does for a living and how executes his victims, this is almost second nature to him. But here, in this moment, it’s not about death or destruction—it’s about life.
When Arlo realizes I’m looking up at him, he meets my gaze and slowly takes a seat beside me, his elbows resting on the bed as he holds my hand to his lips. His presence feels steady, reassuring, like an anchor in the mayhem.
“I just hope she’s okay,” I whisper, feeling the emotion well up inside me. I close my eyes and turn away, trying to keep it all together, but it's hard.
He gently kisses my hand again, and when I turn back to him, his dark eyes are locked on mine. “She’ll be fucking fine,” he says with a raised brow. “Do you know who the fuck her parents are?”
I smile softly as I trace my gaze over his handsome face and my hand instinctively moves to the side of his tattooed neck, searching his eyes.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” I begin, my tone hesitant. “It’s just... it's going to take some time, you know? I’ve been so overwhelmed with everything.” I pause, struggling to find the right words. “It’s been a lot to take in, but honestly, I am so fucking happy that you got back home just in time. I was terrified I’d have to do this without you, Arlo.”
He leans in, resting his brow against mine and I slide my hand to the back of his neck and with our eyes close, and we share a quiet moment—just us, nothing else.
“I don’t want to hear you fucking apologize to me,” he says. “None of this, none of what you’re feeling, is your fault. It never has been, but I promise you, with everything in me, I’ll make it right. I don’t care how long it takes. What matters right now is this—us, in this moment, with our baby girl.”
When my eyes flutter open and he tilts his head, presses his tongue against my lips gently before capturing them in a slow, sensual kiss. We move together, our lips grazing over each other’s, the connection between us feeling electric, so real and powerful that it pulls me out of my panic for a moment. I’m lost in him, in us, until I feel a sudden tugging sensation in my stomach and my eyes snap open, reality flooding back in.
I rest my head against the pillow, eyes darting toward the screen separating us from what’s happening. My heart pounds as I mentally brace for what’s next. Time stretches on, and just when the anxiety seems unbearable, they finally hold her up for a brief moment. A sob bursts from my chest, completely uncontrollable, and Arlo turns to me, his expression shifting. I hear her cry—soft but strong—and relief crashes over me in waves.
Arlo’s grin is huge as he looks at me, leaning over to pepper my lips with kisses. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” he murmurs against my mouth, voice full of emotion. “You fucking did it, beautiful.”
I laugh softly through the tears streaming down my cheeks, soaking in the moment between us. Arlo stands and moves toward the nurses, taken away to cut the umbilical cord. I watch him from where I lie, feeling pride and love as he snips the cord.My heart aches to hold her, to feel her close, and I anxiously wait, my eyes following every movement.
Finally, the nurse brings her over and my breath catches as they lift the sheet, placing her tiny body on my bare chest. The warmth of her skin against mine makes me melt completely. She’s so small, so perfect, and already asleep. Tears fall freely as I gaze down at her, unable to stop myself from taking in her soft skin, the long lashes that frame her little eyes, and the dark hair that already seems so thick.
Arlo leans down beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders as we both look down at her in awe. I turn my head to meet his emotional eyes, and we share a soft, smiley kiss, the happiness between us deep. Then, he leans down and presses a tender kiss on her head, sealing the moment.
“She’s perfect,” Arlo murmurs. “Did you ever think of a name for her?”
Our eyes lock, and I nod slightly. “I did,” I say. “But now that you’re here, that decision is totally yours too.”
His chin raises slightly in curiosity. “What did you have in mind?”
I lower my gaze to her, stroking her damp hair softly with the tips of my fingers.
“Lumi,” I answer quietly. “In Latin, it means light of life or glow. I thought it was perfect, knowing she would bring light back into my life.”
A small twitch of a smile plays on his lips, his eyes easing. “I think it’s perfect. I can already see her as Lumi,” he says with a nod of approval.
“There’s a middle name, if you’ll accept it,” I continue, feeling the weight of what I’m about to say and his brow lifts in silence, waiting for me to go on. “I was going to call her Lumi Bridget Hayes.”
