"Alright," I finally agree. "I won''t tell anyone, but only for a few days. This is too big to keep from my mate for any longer than that."


    Caleb smiles, looking relieved. "Thank you." He nces down at my coffee- stained blouse and winces. "I''m sorry about that. Let me make it up to you."


    "It''s just a stain," I say with a shrug. "It''ll wash out."


    “No, I insist.” He stands, checking his watch. "Do you have ns for the rest of the afternoon? Let me take you shopping."


    I blurt out augh despite the situation. "Shopping? Really?"


    "Yes, really," Caleb says, looking oddly adamant. "Consider it my first act as your protective older brother."


    "I don''t need new clothes," I protest.


    "You do, actually," he counters. "For what''sing next. The media scrutiny is only going to increase, and you need to be prepared."


    I hesitate. "I have my son with me."


    "Bring him along," Caleb suggests. "I''d like to meet my nephew properly."


    The word ''nephew'' hits me hard. If I''m truly a Willford, then Miles is not just Arthur''s heir, but a Willford by blood as well.


    An hourter, after picking up Emi and Miles, I find myself in one of Ordan''s most exclusive boutiques. Miles is surprisingly patient, upied with a tablet that Caleb produced seemingly out of nowhere. Emi stands discreetly near the entrance, alert as always. She doesn''t know why Caleb is doing this, other than the fact that he ruined my shirt. I wonder if she''ll report this to Arthur.


    As for me, I''ve been extremely quiet since Caleb gave me the results. I feel like I''m in a daze, my mind turning foggy from the force of the revtion. I can''t even think straight, and all I want is to go home andy down for hours so I can process all of it.


    I''m a Willford.


    Not just a Willford, but a werewolf.


    What the hell is happening?


    "That stylist of yours did you a disservice, by the way," Calebments as he sifts through a rack of dresses, snapping me out of my reverie. "I saw the magazine spread and those clothes they put you in were all wrong for your coloring and body type."


    "Really?" I ask, surprised. "She seemed to know what she was doing."


    "That''s the problem," Caleb says, holding up an emerald green gown against me. "She knew exactly what she was doing."


    I frown. "You think it was deliberate?"


    "Politics is a dirty game, Iris," he says, his expression darkening. "And you''ve walked into the middle of it."


    "Those women at the g," I say slowly. "They were Selina''s friends, weren''t they?"


    "Yes," Caleb confirms. "But Selina had a lot of supporters at all levels of Ordan society, including within Arthur''s


    425 BOTS


    staff."


    "You think someone on Arthur''s team might have..." I trail off.


    "Tried to make you look worse on camera? Absolutely." Caleb selects another dress, this one a deep sapphire blue. "And the women at the g may have been employed by someone, not just acting in anger over Selina''s ident."


    "That''s a serious usation," I say, although I can''t help but wonder if he might be right. The attack had seemed awfully coordinated, like they''d fully nned out exactly how to corner me and humiliate me in the worst way possible.


    He holds up the blue dress. "This is more your style. Strong and elegant, but with an artistic edge. You need to cultivate your own image, not be subjected to their styling. Don''t let them strip you of your personality."


    I take the dress from him, running my fingers over the luxurious fabric. It is beautiful, and nothing like what the stylist picked for me. It''s actually something I would wear


    "Try it on," Caleb encourages. "Along with these." He passes me a few more items-a sexy, low-cut top, a pair of sleek trousers, and another dress in a rich burgundy.


    In the dressing room, I slip into the blue dress, surprised by how perfectly it fits. The cut entuates my curves without being too revealing, and the color makes my eyes pop. I step out to show Caleb.


    "Now that," he says with satisfaction, "is how the Alpha President''s mate should look."


    I turn to the mirror. "This... feels a lot better," I admit, meeting his gaze in the reflection. "Thank you for your input, Caleb. I''m sorry if I''m quiet-it''s a lot to process. It still feels surreal, like I''m walking in a dream."


    He merely shrugs. "Like I said, we''ll talk more in private tomorrow." He pats my shoulder. “In the meantime, rest and give yourself time to think. And remember what I said..."


    Caleb leans close, giving me a meaningful look that makes my breath catch. "Don''t tell a soul," he instructs. "Not even your mate.”