Wren sees Easton’s movement before Steele even has a chance to catch it. Maybe it is from her lower position as she has not moved from her seated position. Easton’s feet turn before the rest of his body so she can easily anticipate his next move.
Wren’s palm presses firmly on the firm surface of the stage and she blinks for a second longer than usual, composing herself. As she opens her eyes, she looks at the handsome face of Easton, which is twisted in fury, his canines are drawing blood on his own face, his silver gray eyes are focused on her and she watches as his claws swipe swiftly through the air toward her. Wren doesn’t show a flicker of emotions, there is a collective gasp from the crowd as time seems to slow down and they can see it all. The gasp is matched by Steele, it rings in
