#having heart palpatations this feels so painful aha

[thegirlisuedtobe]

if i have to think one more second about how much danny loves rebecca i might die

[angstymarshmallow]

Part one: home sweet home (cal lowell x mc) NS*W

[a little note: so after yesterday’s bloodbound chapter and a couple posts following its release. I think I want to do a crossover series with both nightbound and bloodbound. This is the beginning of a set up and if it doesn’t happen, at least I’ve got this fic out of it aha. NS*W Warning: in case you aren’t comfortable with this level of intimacy. Usually, I like to wait awhile before tackling strong intimacy between new pairings because I need more details to work with and to set the mood and flow of their relationship. But I’ve set up a precedence that this happens lots of months of later and hope this confidently portrays that. Whatever happens, this is the start of something for sure. so let’s see where this leads us].

[summary: months after hunting down the bloodwraith, Wren (MC) has moved in with the Lowell brothers. There’s a new routine to their domestic life as Wren balances being a nighthunter and finding where the rest of her life fits in New Orleans. With Cal at her side and an uncertain future, she must be willing to fight for him to stay - or lose him in the process].

[words counted: 5226]

Warm, almost too warm. 

But those are familiar hands that travel up the side of her hips – not some strangers’. They are rough and calloused. They are soft even as they attempt to rouse her gently awake. 

She makes a soft noise of protest and jumps slightly at the sudden intrusion. Today’s supposed to be her day off, she ought to sleep in.

But the warm body beside her is persistent and nudges her with a firm gesture, his touch sending her heart into sudden palpations. It always takes more than a second to adjust to his heat. He runs far warmer than she does and even without blankets, being too close sometimes was like pressing her face against the heater in her office.

His fingers glide higher as does her alertness to his presence as he traces feather-light touches across her arm. She’s tempted to open her eyes, but feigns ignorance a little while longer – relishing at the feeling of his touch; knowing he’s the only person she’s ever felt comfortable enough for moments like this. His fingers find purchase across her shoulder blades where he’s able to massage out kinks after a long week of hard work.

When his fingers finally meet her lips, she nips them playfully.

There’s a slight rumble in his chest at this gesture. Laughter floats inside the room and her own throat bubbles with its penchant for happiness at the sound of his early morning growl. When she can delay no longer and her eyes flutter open, her heart does a little flip at the warm look of fondness in return.

He bumps her forehead with his, “morning beautiful.”

Instead of bumping him back as was their customary routine for the past several months, Wren cocks her head and grins instead. She maneuvers herself out of his embrace, hands pushing to sit up in bed despite the look of confusion across his face.

His eyebrows lift quizzically and his lips pause as if to question her until she moves fluidly to lie on top of him. Sitting up right again, she straddles him by the hips and pulls a handful of her hair away from her face. “Morning yourself.” She quips back, running her fingers down the fine hairs across his expansive chest. God, she never gets tired of touching him.

“You’re always the best sight to wake up to.” His fingers drift to grip her waist; nails tightening a little – almost with enough pressure to break the skin.

“I know,” she responds without missing a beat. She gives him a look of appraisal. “But you’re not too bad yourself, have I mentioned how much I love how warm you are?”

He laughs. “Only about a dozen times.”

“Only?” She allows her gaze drift down the length of his body; admiring every smooth skin and muscle in sight.

“I think we’ve both lost count at this point.” When her eyes meet his wide-brown eyes again, there’s amusement staring back at her.

“You know, we could both use another reminder.”. As if to drive her point home, Wren trails a finger down his chest and grins in delight at his sudden shiver. She doesn’t take her eyes off him as her fingers travel lower, until they’re able to brush past the waistband of his boxers.

Cal hisses. Suddenly all the amusement from his gaze fizzles and dies out. “I could never say no to an early appetizer,” he responds huskily. His eyes darkening in a way that lets Wren knows they won’t have any time for breakfast.

Without waiting a beat, he flips her over – pinning her beneath his massive frame.

Wren squeals. A pitch of breathless laughter bubbles up her throat as she wrestles back for control.

She’s got the legs for it, but he has everything else. She tries to buff his attempts at staying on-top, shimmying and using her slight height difference to her advantage and just for a few seconds, she’s able to reverse their positions. Hands and legs mingle, intertwining in a way that speaks volumes for how comfortable and accustomed they’ve grown around each other in the coming months of co-habitation.

His eyes dance with sparks and like firecrackers, they come alive as soon as he dives for her.

She tries to dodge, feinting left and then right. But at the last second, he goes for her preferred side, knocking them both towards the other side of the bed. “Cal!”

Damn.

He’s done it again.

Smirking down at her, Cal doesn’t say the words out-loud but Wren hears them loud and clear in the back of her mind. He always wins. “You’re a cheater.” She says, shooting him a small glare. She’s caught between the pillow behind her lower back and his hands that keeps her wrists together while braced against the headboard.

“I think the term you’re looking for is innovative.”

She snorts. She would have thwacked him with a pillow had her hands been free. But in their compromising position, all she can do is playfully pout up at him. “One day, I’ll win.” She swears it, somehow, she’ll take him completely off-guard.

“I know you will.”

He’s humoring her with that kind of answer. Wren is under no pretenses that he isn’t the stronger adversary – she knows he is. By the very definition of his genetic makeup, there’s no way she can hold even a small flame to his overbearing candle. Still, she appreciates it all the same that he’s always been forthcoming and sweet, despite their difference in physical capabilities.

Plus, it’s not like she isn’t enjoying the view. There’s an…undeniable level of sexiness and excitement whenever she’s pinned beneath him. She’s got a good look of his biceps flexing as he keeps her trapped underneath him. And It also didn’t help that he was looking at her like that.

There’s a hungriness to it, like she’s really his first appetizer of the day.

Cal licks his lips and the gesture rises the temperature in cheeks her at least a few degrees. “So, what do you think?” She tilts her head to one side, giving him ample cleavage down her chest. “Am I appetizing enough for us to forget breakfast completely?”

His response is lost in a growl as he grounds his hips into hers’.

Wren lets out a shaky breath.

Cal drops one of her wrists to drape his hand down the silkiness of her robe. “Breakfast doesn’t even come close.” With exaggerated slowness, he pulls the knot at the front of her robe free and runs his fingers against her bare skin.

Heat pools at her belly and goosebumps erupt across her flesh at the sudden raise in temperature.

“Nothing else does Wren.” He leans closer, inhaling the scent of her skin. “You smell like heaven.”

Never being particular proficient at flowery words, Wren tangles her fingers in his hair as he presses soft kisses across her shoulder. “You trying to sweet talk me?”

“Is it working?” She can practically feel his grin poking into her shoulder.

“I’ll tell you when it does.” She answers without missing a beat, “till then – don’t let me stop you.”

Instead of responding, Cal leans back enough to push the material from off her shoulders. The gesture exposes her almost completely to him and his eyes rake over her with almost a pride and possessive air. His heated stare makes her toes curl. “You’re so beautiful,” he says the words with a sort of reverence that makes Wren’s heart lurch. He reaches for one exposed nipple and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger.

She hisses out a breath.

He repeats the action to other nipple and Wren nearly arches off the bed. “I always love how responsive you are,” his hand slides lower until they delve between her thighs. She’s already slick with enough excitement that three fingers are able to easily slip inside. “How you’re always ready for me.”

He dips his head low enough to capture one of her nipples, cutting off whatever response she might have had to his words.

She closes her eyes and frees her other wrist from him to drop them to his head. Her fingers twist inside his hair, pulling him closer – urging him on as he switches between licking her swollen areola and nipping it with enough force to make her moan and writhe underneath him. She goads him on with her hips, thrusting against his fingers, intent on finding her own release at his relentless torture of blurring pleasure with pain. “Cal, I –”

“I know.” He picks up his pace, swirling his thumb across her swollen clit until her hips are practically slamming against his palm.

“Fuck.” She yells the word, throwing her head back when the wave of pleasure finally hits, finally crashes with such ferocity that it overrides all other senses and sends her spiraling out of control. Small tremors wrack her body. Despite how sensitive she feels right after the last of her euphoric nerves have been wrung out, Cal doesn’t remove his hand. Instead his fingers drive back into her; building with increasing tempo, into such a frenzy and only stopping once she’s fallen apart.

She squeezes her eyes shut, swearing as she comes apart, more fiercely than the first time.

When he retrieves his hand, Wren is panting hard enough to drone out the rapid sound of her own heart, beating as wildly as it does inside her chest. It’s incredible how good he is at making her come, even after all of these months – all it takes is a little bit of coaxing and she’s always felt putty in his very capable hands.

Breaking her train of thought, Wren watches as Cal raises his fingers; still glistened with her excitement. One at a time, he clicks them completely clean.

Her stomach flips.

“You taste better than any meal.”

Smirking, she sits up as he makes space for her. “We haven’t even gotten to the main course yet.”

“We’ve skipped breakfast then?”

Grabbing his arm, she stops him from standing. She knows his intentions are to always leave her satisfied. But she knows the telltale signs of what he wants and she’d never deprive him of that. Her fingers tip toe across his bicep, and she hauls him back to bed. “Fuck breakfast,” she almost snarls the words as she settles on top of him again. “Or better yet, fuck me.” Her tone is adamant as Cal breaks out into a grin. Her fingers drift to his back, raking lightly as pushes her hips against his with purpose.

“But I like taking my time with the main course.” Cal teaches, ready to steady her waist but Wren bats his hands away.

“We don’t have the time for that.” And I don’t have the patience for it. She adds silently. “Besides, I know that’s not what you really need.”

Need is a strong word, but there’s no denying the tenseness in his body when it comes to sex. He’s never completely lost control when he’s been with her – but there’s been close times, when she thinks the intense and force can almost be too much. Still, he practices restraint and knows how to keep them on the edge. Always on the edge.

Instead of waiting for him to make the first move, Wren retrieves her hands and does it for him. She guides him backwards when he tries to sit, until his skin makes contact against the softness of their mattress again.

His eyes crinkle at the corner. He makes no move to stop her from taking control; simply watches as she straddles him properly this time by hooking her legs on either side of his muscular thighs. Hands splayed across his chest, she leans into him, and stares directly into his eyes while slowly sinking onto his shaft.

Immediately, Cal’s entire body tenses. A vein strains on and pulses from his neck. It’s only for a moment, but there’s a barely containable urge he’s ignoring – not reaching for her. Not taking control. His muscles flex with effort and a low, guttural sound escapes his throat.

Wren barely has enough time to bite back her moan as she makes the subtlest of shift with her hip; tilting them to place enough pressure for a soft buzz of pleasure to slowly overwhelm her. Her lackadaisical pace won’t sate her for long.  She clenches her hands into fists as she does another roll; inciting a small moan from the man underneath her.

His cheeks are flushed, his eyes heavy with need. She knows he’s fighting the urge to take control of their pleasure and she’s touched that he’s leaving their pace up to her. Her fingers scrape alongside the soft patches of his chest hair while her hips drive her forward.

He’s meeting her stroke for stroke now; bringing his hips with just enough force to draw out a heady moan from her lips. The fingers by her waist digs into her skin, but Wren doesn’t care. When they’re like this – only skin and sweat, the only thing mattering between them is how much they want each other. How much they need each other. And her need to have him to have him won’t be satisfied until she’s left panting and over-exhausted.  

“So good baby,” She half-mutters, half-says after taking a ragged breath. Hard and fast are words that drill into her mind as she finds his hair and fists a bunch of it to fit through her fingers.

He’s moving faster and this time she’s the one struggling to keep up – until her entire body wracks with enough convulses for her to throw her head back and cry out his name. “Cal!” She continues to shudder from the last of her pleasure before Cal flips their position.

His eyes are hot and hungry – she feels it all the way to her toes how much he wants more. Growling, Cal slips back inside her slicked heat – uttering something close to gibberish once he has his rhythm going.

There’s almost a roughness to his lovemaking as Wren wraps her legs tightly around his hips. He pulls them up farther until they’re able to rest across his broad shoulders before he continues to pound wildly into her. His pacing turns erratic – almost too quick for Wren to follow as the headboard clatters roughly against the wall.

“Fuck, fuck fuck –” Wren’s sentence breaks off into a scream of pleasure as Cal continues to thrusting with such wild abandon that another wave of brilliant pleasure threatens to drown her completely.

His cry of release comes shortly after hers’, his entire body going rigid before he buries his head between her shoulder. His wet hair tickles her skin, but Wren runs her fingers through his hair as the last of his orgasm is masked against her skin in a soft cry of reverence.

After a few seconds, he pulls away with enough space between them to press his forehead against hers.

Closing her eyes, she simply listens to his breathing; finds a rhythm in it until her own heart returns back to normal. Then opening them back, she utters a soft noise of happiness as he nuzzles her cheek. “You’re definitely better than any breakfast.

She hears the rumble emanating from his chest as he laughs silently. “I think I’m inclined to agree.” He slid his hands down her back, running faint circles there as she kisses him fondly on the nose.

The gesture makes him growl, and one of his hands reaches to tilt her chin up before his kiss lands softly on her lips.

His kisses are warm. If she’s ever to touch the sun – the only thing she’d be able to compare to is this, and all her nerves have gone alive with the urge of wanting more again. She responds just as eagerly, pressing her body impossibly closer to him, burying her fingers in his hair to pull on them.

He moans.

And something hard touches her thigh.

He breaks off first, cheeks flushing and eyes dark with desire as he swallows back hard. “We should probably get going.”

A mischievous glint is in her eyes as Wren dips in between them to cup him.

He hisses.

“Really?” She asks playfully, massaging the tip of his cock with her thumb. “I don’t think he agrees.”

“He has a mind of his own.” Cal flexes his hips against her fingers. “He’ll get us both in trouble.”

“I like trouble.” She whispers, licking her lips. “Let me take care of him.”

Before he’s able to respond, Wren pushes him back; her fingers urging him to lie down wordlessly as she crawls and ends up between his legs.

Cal doesn’t stop her. His eyes watch her every move, as she stops his hands from reaching for her.

With practiced slowness, Wren takes him into her mouth.

The effect she has on him is instant. Cal’s entire body freezes for a moment and he groans in pleasure as her tongue darts across his tip and down the length of his shaft. “The things you do with that mouth should be illegal.” He pants, now breathless as she takes more of him between her parted lips.

She winks, then switches her attention solely on his pleasure. She knows he likes how deeply she can take him and today she’s feeling particularly risky to take more of him than she’s ever thought possible. The back of her throat tickles, and her eyes water a little as she tries to fit more. He’s so big. And she loves every part of him, she loves knowing she can make him unhinged – with a flicker of her tongue and sucking to throw his head back.

His hips move as she pulls slightly back and together, they’ve found their own rhythm again before Cal’s hands reach to cup the back of her neck. His breathing ragged, he guides her on his cock; letting out another curse when she draws more of him inside her mouth.

The second his orgasm hits, he thrusts as much as he can inside her; being careful to drop his hands to her shoulders and places enough pressure to leave marks of their lovemaking behind. He shudders once and then a second time, but she doesn’t move away.

She takes every bit of his pleasure inside her own mouth, only breaking contact when she’s able to swallow most of him. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and grins impishly up at him.

“You’re a goddess,” Cal suddenly decrees, reaching for her. He gathers her inside his arms; their bodies still slick with sweat as he nuzzles her neck. “I love you.”

The words make her freeze for a second – as they often do when he says them with such sincerity and abandon. He always says it so freely, with such completeness while Wren has yet to do the same. She knows she has deeper feelings for him than anyone else; but they’ve always been too complex for her to tear apart and explain. He’s been patient with her but she wonders if his patience will run out, when her answers have always been the same.

Silence.

Wren forces her body to relax in his arms and plants a kiss on his mouth the moment he tries to search her face. It’s better she stops him from saying anymore. It’s been such a good morning and she doesn’t want to start an argument. “We should really go,” she says smoothly, changing the subject. “Donny’s still waiting for us downstairs.”

There’s a moment where he doesn��t react. A moment when his eyes glance worriedly at her before looking elsewhere. She swears she notices a flash of hurt inside his dark chocolate yes but it’s gone by the time he nods and rolls away from her. “Let’s go.”

-

They’re going to be late.

By the time Wren and Cal are dressed to meet Donny downstairs, he’s already dressed in familiar denim and jacket. His hair is even smoothed back, away from his olive face and ready to go for once without Cal’s insistence.

His backpack is slung across his shoulder and he meets the flush of Cal’s cheeks and Wren’s casual stare with one of impatience. He doesn’t state the obvious, which Wren is secretly grateful for because they’ll cross that bridge when they get there. But Donny may be seventeen, but he isn’t stupid. “No time for breakfast.” He says the words a-matter-of-factly as he checks the time on his slim wrist. “I gotta go now.”

“Sorry pal,” Much to Wren’s chagrin, Cal at least looks apologetic. She’s trying to appear nonchalant by the whole thing – werewolves do have a much better sense of hearing than humans, and neither of them ever fuck quietly so –

Clearing his throat, the older Lowell brother grabs his keys as they head to the front door. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises, “I can take you out to lunch.”

“You told me you had a full schedule today,” Wren speaks up. She doesn’t mean to interfere; Donny still hasn’t quite dealt with how abruptly she’s moved into their once bachelor pad, but she doesn’t want Cal to overwork himself. “I’ll do it. We’ll have fun, won’t we Donny?”

Donny doesn’t respond right away; he snorts and rolls his eyes until a sharp glance from Cal makes him speak. “Yeah…it sounds fun.” He checks his watch again.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Cal frowns. “You’ve still got some time before school starts.” He wrestles his jacket across his broad shoulders until Wren steps up behind him to help.

“It’s the start of football season, remember?” Before he’s able to answer, Donny shakes his head. “Of course, you don’t remember.” He snorts. “Anyway, I need to get there early if I wanna make practice.”

Cal winces, guilt etched across his smooth features before he dropped his younger brother’s gaze. “I’m so sorry Donny, I completely forgot.”

The door swings open and instead of responding, Donny ambles through it – his stiff shoulders spoking volumes for how upset he is. “Don’t sweat it, let’s just leave.” He calls over his shoulders.

“See you later Donny!” Wren calls after him but apart from a wave, he doesn’t say goodbye.

Cal gives her a parting kiss, cupping both her cheeks. “He’ll come around.”

Not trusting herself - to speak, Wren nods. Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying for months. But she isn’t looking for a fight. “I can pick him up after school too,” she offers. She understands how busy his schedule has been lately – apart from the station, he’s had a whole set of new wolves to deal with that came seemingly out of nowhere.

“Thanks,” He shoots her a grateful smile. “See you later.”

Wren watches him go, her heart heavy for a man she’s known for a little more than half the year. The three little words he’s said to her this morning is still on her mind. It still clings to her even as she tries to shake them off. She watches them go; her hands stuck on doing nothing else other than waving goodbye and it isn’t until the car disappears around the bend that she drops the hand back to her side.

It’s a conversation she knows will come up later – it always does. But for now, Wren is left alone with the safety of her own thoughts as she closes the door behind her.

There’s a lot to do around the house before lunch.

-

By the time lunch rolls around, Wren is in the parking lot of Donny’s school texting him. Her music on full blast humming along the lyrics of Queen’s don’t stop me now, despite the parking lot littered with students leaving school for lunch.

A minute passes by, and then another but there’s no response from the younger Lowell. She waits another minute before digging for her phone again and uttering a curse as she types a barrage of messages.

Dude, you know ignoring me isn’t going to work – right?

I’m just to keep spamming you messages.

H

E

L

L

O

Donnyyyyyy –

Okay, maybe ignoring her is definitely working because Wren can’t sit still long without wanting to do something. Turning down her music, she gets out of her pick-up truck with a huff and leans against the ford door. “This kid,” she mutters, pressing dial and wedging the phone between her ears and shoulder.

She listens for the ring.

Once. Twice. Three times before it immediately goes to voicemail. Uttering a soft curse, she tries again – except this time, it doesn’t ring and goes directly to voicemail. “Seriously, Donny? Seriously?” She leaves him a shrew message, stating that she’ll be waiting for a few extra minutes if he changes his mind.

Although, some part of her hopes he’ll give her the chance – she knows he won’t. It’s been like this for a while. Getting to know Donny, was like getting her teeth pulled at the dentist. He makes it hard. He has walls higher than hers’, and the little bit she does know about him took a lot of prying and space. He’s stubborn. More than that, he’s trying at almost every turn to completely shut her out.

God, he reminds her too much of her younger self.

Sighing, Wren pockets the phone before opening back her door and sliding in. She gives it another minute or two; tapping her fingers to the beat of another hit by Queens until the end of the song. Then as We are the Champions blast her speakers, Wren reserves out of her parking spot – feeling more like a loser than anything remotely close to a champion as she leaves his school.

-

When Wren picks up Donny later that afternoon, he greets her with a subtle nod and a mutter before getting into the seat beside her.

Immediately, she bites the inside of her cheek – her own frustration obvious as he reaches to switch the music. “Sorry kid,” she stops him with a flicker of her wrist. “Only passengers who actually want to talk to me, gets to change the music.”

“Since when?” He scowls, glancing at her.

“Since I said so.” She fires back, lifting an eyebrow. “But now that I’ve got you talking, how was your day?”

Donny turns away, peering out the window. “Fine.”

Ah, back to one-word answers. “Good, it would suck if it’s been a shitty day for a Friday.” She checks her rearview mirrors before cautiously backing out of the parking lot. “How did football practice go?”

For a moment, she thinks she’s gotten through some of his armor as his ears suddenly perk up and he sits a little straighter. Then as if remembering where he is, Donny shrugs. “It went okay.” He pauses. “There’s another tryout before coach makes up his mind.”

“You mind if I come to the next one? I’d like to see you in action.”

She thinks she sees a faint blush of embarrassment on his cheeks, but he isn’t facing her so it’s a little difficult for her to tell.

“If you’ve got nothing better to do. It’s only forty minutes.” He shrugs. “The last practice is on Monday.”

Wren nods, “I’ll have to move some stuff around but I’ll be there.”

“Don’t on my account.”

“Donny.” She’s losing her patience, she knows she is – but this kid, he doesn’t make it easy.

“What?” His response is almost as terse as hers’ an she lifts an eyebrow.

“Can you not be a sulky teen for just one second?” She says brusquely, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s Friday and we should go out! We should do something fun before Cal gets home.”

“Wren.” He says her name with such force that she takes her eyes off the road for a second to meet the hostility in his eyes. “No offense, but I’d rather stay home and wait.”

“Full offense,” she answers without missing a beat, “it’s Friday and who wants to stay home on Friday?” She continues quickly before he’s able to protest, “it’ll be my treat – where do you want to go?”

For a second it looks like he’s going to argue. His nostrils are flared the same way Cal’s are whenever he’s frustrated and his eyes have a look about them that makes her think he’d rather die than hang a second more with her. Then he shrugs and a smile lifts his features.

It unsettles her.

“Let’s go hang out to The Howlers. To hang out – with the pack.”

The request isn’t uncommon.

Since becoming alpha, Cal has a certain level of responsibility that has Donny more often than not lately, around the pack. But the funny feeling in Wren’s stomach as she slams the door close behind her and watches as Donny boards the steps of the dingy side street – towards the local werewolf hub deepens her indecision.

Wren does not get along with Cal’s pack. Ever since the scuffle with Octavia, her mysterious disappearance and Cal’s fight to claim the title – there’s been an uneasy tension whenever she’s stopped by, or been around anyone that isn’t a pup.

They don’t like her. Some of them even hate her. It’s that simple and yet complicated. Given their history with her, she gets it. She’s a part of the reason why Kristoff is dead, why after Cal challenged Octavia as alpha – he was unwilling to kill her and she’d hightail it to abandon them; swearing revenge. They resent her. Hell – some of them still resented Cal but no one will challenge him as alpha.

But it goes deeper than that, the pack’s tolerance of her existence isn’t one-sided.

Their latest fight was about her. Her place in the pack as Cal’s mate. She’s never claimed or alluded into wanting to be turned – to be as they are and to hunt and bleed as one of them. Whenever Cal brings up the subject, she quickly changes it.

It’s too much, too fast.

For her to make such a monumental decision when she’d spent most of her life alone, it’s too much of a price to pay. She doesn’t even know what next week will look like, let alone making a decision of that magnitude. And that’s a choice to last an entire lifetime.

That’s just it. She needs more time. Maybe more than a lifetime can give her.

“Well, aren’t you coming?”

Donny’s words snap her attention back into focus. He’s paused by the front door of the tall and dingy building, with two beefy-looking bouncers in shades flocking the sides of the entrance. There’s a look of disdain at her approach – they know who she is. But it’s the challenging look inside Donny’s eyes that has her moving again.

Alright you little shit. Two can play this game. She wets her throat, “I’m right behind you.” But deep down, Wren is worried. Deep down, something in her gut is telling her to run, because being here without Cal is pretty much looking for trouble.

Good thing Wren has never run away from trouble, from a good fight. She’s always willing to go toe-toe, and for Cal – she’s willing to go knee-deep into it.

-