Page 77 of Awakening the Beast
Without a word, I grab Wren’s hand, pulling her away from the weird vibe whirling around Vivienne. I don’t stop until we’re exiting the restaurant, stepping out into the rainy night air.
It's the day after that strange dinner with Jasper’s mom, and it keeps annoying at me like an itch I can’t scratch. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much, but it is. When I talked to Wren about it, she agreed, saying maybe she’s still unwell, but I don’t buy it. She’s not insane—she knows exactly what the fuck she’s doing.
Sitting behind the massive desk in the center of my dark, gothic office, I slump in the leather chair, thoughts spinning. And, funny enough, my mom’s sitting across from me.
“She said that?” she asks, disbelief clear in her voice after I had explained the bizarre encounter.
I nod silently, and my mom scoffs sharply, looking off to the side. “She’s clearly still not right in the head. I can’t believe they let her out when she’s still unstable. Poor Jasper.”
I lift my brow, rubbing my chin in my fingers, studying my mom as she takes a shaky sip of whiskey. She’s pissed off, I can tell.
“I want you to stay away from her, Arlo.” Her eyes flicker to mine as she leans forward in her seat, her tone dead serious. “She’s nothing but trouble. Always has been. Do not trust her.”
I cock my head to the side, considering my mom’s words as I run my tongue piercing over my bottom lip.
“I think I need a holiday,” she admits, and slumps back in her chair with a sigh. “I’ve booked flights to travel across Europe next month.”
I mull it over and she’s probably right—she's been through some shit since my father’s death, and then mine. She deserves some peace.
“It’ll do you good, mom,” I finally answer.
She meets my gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips, her eyes gentle for the first time in what feels like years.
“I’ll be back in no time,” she assures me.
Just as I’m about to respond, the door suddenly bursts open, slamming against the wall. My eyes dart to it, and there stands Wren—her gun in hand, her gaze burning with fury. I just stare at her, unblinking, as she fixes me with an evil glare.
“Savannah? When were you going to tell me?” she barks with anger.
I exhale a huge breath, tilting my head back against the chair, already exhausted by this argument.
“Wren,” I groan, trying to warn her that I’m not in the mood for her bratty tantrums right now.
“Don’t 'Wren' me, bastard,” she snaps, her words sharp and biting.
My head tilts forward quickly, my eyebrow arching, shocked at her audacity to storm in the fuck in here and give me shit.My mom rises from her seat, but I can feel her rage simmering beneath her composed exterior.
This is about to escalate fast.
“You’re seriously not threatening my son?” my mom cuts in with disbelief, her eyes flashing to the gun in Wren's hand and I roll my eyes, not surprised she'd take the defensive.
Before I can respond, Wren aims the gun at my mom and my brows furrow, confusion and irritation rippling through me. What the fuck is she doing? This ain’t like her—disrespecting my fucking mom like this. Not in front of me.
“Give me a fucking reason, Carmella,” Wren growls, her tone carrying that dark, raw energy that only the Elites possess. It drives me insane in the best way, but right now? It's about to make everything fucked. Shit I can’t be bothered to deal with.
My mom turns toward me, gesturing at Wren with growing frustration. “You need to fix her, Arlo. She’s clearly not made for this if she’s just waving a damn gun around. Disrespecting you like this.”
“Shut the fuck up, Carmella!” Wren yells in response.
My patience cracks as my gaze flashes to Wren with fury.
“Wren!” I warn again, but she just turns the gun on me, pointing it squarely.
My brows shoot up as I lock eyes with her, feeling the intensity in her gaze, and I don't look away, instead, my jaw tightens with irritation.
“Mom, get out,” I say in an eerily calm tone, keeping my eyes fixed on Wren.
“But—” My mom protests, shocked.
