Climbing into my car, I start the engine and peel out of the alleyway, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Maybe I''m overreacting. Maybe Caleb really was just being nice to make up for spilling coffee on her.


    But that doesn''t exin the dress. That sapphire blue dress she showed me-l recognized the designer immediately. At least three thousand dors, if not more, Not the kind of thing you buy for someone you barely know, regardless of how bad you feel about staining their shirt.


    What if there''s something going on between them? The thought makes my wolf howl with rage. No. That''s impossible. Iris would never. She loves me. We''re mates.


    But Caleb is handsome, powerful, wealthy. And he doesn''te with all the political baggage I do. He could offer Iris a simpler life, one without constant public scrutiny and judgment while still providing all theforts a life with me could give her.


    Stop it, I tell myself. I''m being ridiculous. There''s a reasonable exnation for all of this, and I know Iris doesn''t care about money. But as for Caleb''s motives....


    I did identally put Selina in aa. She might not be his biological sister, but she''s still his sister in all the ways that matter. He might be trying to weasel his way into our rtionship. Maybe he wants revenge.


    As I''m pulling up to a red light, my phone rings, cutting through my thoughts. I check the disy and groan when I see it''s my father. Just what I need right now.


    "Hello, Father," I answer.


    "Arthur," Leonard''s gruff greetinges through the speaker. "Your mother and I just read that interview you and the human did."


    I wince. The interview hadn''t gone as smoothly as I''d hoped. Iris was nervous, stumbling over some of her answers, particrly when asked about her role as Luna. They just printed it today, along with the photographs of us, and she looked positively ufortable.


    "She''s not used to this," I reply simply.


    "Not used to it?" My father scoffs. "She''s not suitable for it That disy was embarrassing. She could barely string together two coherent sentences about state affairs."


    "She''s an artist, not a politician," I defend her with a shrug "She''ll improve with practice. I was thinking of hiring a media trainer for her."


    "This isn''t about practice, Arthur," my mother''s voice cuts in, "It''s about suitability. And she is simply not suitable."


    I pinch the bridge of my nose. "We''ve already had this conversation-"


    "And we''ll continue having it until you see reason," my father interrupts. "This human is going to ruin everything you''ve worked for. Everything our family has built."


    "The polls are already showing a drop in your approval rating," my mother adds, as if I don''t know that. "The traditionalists are turning against you, and even the moderates are concerned. A human Luna is one thing, but one who can''t even handle a simple interview?"


    "It was her first interview," I snap. "Give her a chance."


    "We''ve given her enough chances," my father says coldly. "That dinner was a disaster. She burned the main


    course because she was too busy painting? What kind of mate neglects her family duties for a hobby?"


    +25 BOWS


    I take a deep breath, trying to calm my growing anger. "Look, I know you''re concerned, but Iris is my mate. That''s not changing. So either you ept her, or-


    "Or what?" my father challenges. "You''ll cut us out of your life? Out of our grandson''s life?"


    The mention of Miles makes my wolf even more agitated. Don''t bring Miles into this."


    "He''s already in this," my mother says. "He''s the Alpha her. He needs proper guidance, not just whatever that human is giving him."


    "She raised him for five years on her own," I remind them. And did a damn good job of it."


    "Did she?" my father asks. "The boy can barely look people in the eye. Hardly speaks. Shows none of the natural dominance an Alpha pup should have by his age."


    I grip the phone so tightly I hear the case crack. "Don''t you dare criticize my son." I don''t tell them about his disability. It''s not that I''m embarrassed; I just know they''ll use it as even more ammunition.


    "We''re not criticizing Miles," my mother says quickly. "We''re criticizing how he''s being raised. Arthur, please. It''s not toote to fix this. Drop the human before it''s toote. For your sake, for Miles'' sake, for the sake of our bloodline."


    The red light turns green. I shove my foot down on the pedal, tires screeching on the asphalt.


    "This conversation is over," I growl, and hang up the phone without another word. As if I wasn''t already frustrated enough...


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