《Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur)》


 Chapter 1

    #CHAPTER 1: Results


    Iris POV


    Pregnancy Test Result: Single Live Intrauterine Pregnancy


    Species Test: 99% Probability Human


    Alone in the doctor''s office while she got me some medicine, I read the simple lines of text several times before they truly made sense.


    I was carrying a child.


    I looked at the second line again, a smile breaking out across my face. A human baby born of me and Arthur, my fated mate.


    I had to tell him right now.


    I dialed his number with fingers that shook slightly, d I was already sitting down. A bubble of happiness swelled up from my heart, and I released it with augh. The phone, however, went straight to voicemail, meaning his phone was off.


    Swallowing my disappointment but all too aware that Arthur tended to avoid


    distractions while at work, including just ignoring my calls, I tried to keep my voice cheerful.


    "Arthur, it''s Iris. I know you''re busy, and I wish you good luck with the candidacy, but I have some news for you. Great news."


    I pressed my lips shut. Voicemail was not the way I wanted to tell him. News this good needed to be told in person.


    "Anyway, please give me a call when you hear this. Love you."


    I hung up and wrapped my arms around myself tightly. I felt ready to explode. If it were a normal day, I would hop in my car and drive to Arthur''s office.


    But it wasn''t a normal day. Arthur was meeting with election officials and members of his party to see whether his bid as a presidential candidate would be epted. A powerful alpha werewolf since his birth, he''d been working toward this goal his whole life, and there was no question he would make an exceptional leader.


    This was no time for me to be pestering him, even if this were the best news of my life.


    But tonight, when he returned home with his good news, I would tell him mine. Our good news.


    The doctor returned with a smile and handed me a bottle. "Take two of these with food twice a day for your nausea."


    "Can you tell how far along I am?" I asked.


    "Four weeks. I''d like to see you and your husband back here next week so we can go through your schedule for the next nine months."


    "He''s not my husband yet, but I''m sure he''ll be fine with that."


    She opened a folder and studied some pages in a failed attempt to hide her look of disapproval. "He''s human, I presume?"


    "No, an Alpha werewolf," I said. She looked up in surprise. "We''re fated."


    Her smile looked more genuine now that she knew I wasn''t some "human living off the system" but a future mother fated to mate with a socially prominent werewolf. This was providence working its magic.


    "Such a rare and lovely match! Tell Brett to arrange that appointment, but call me if you aren''t feeling better with the medicine."


    I kept smiling as I walked to my car. Arthur would be so happy, and I knew he would be a wonderful partner in this pregnancy.


    Although I was human and Arthur was of course a werewolf Alpha, lending him the highest possible social status, I had always believed that we could handle any judgment or prejudice our still somewhat hierarchical society might throw our way. Because we love each other. Despite our pr opposite upbringings, fate had ns for us, drawing us irrevocably and irresistibly towards each other. Besides, things were changing. Even fifty years ago a human-werewolf rtionship such as ours, fated-mates or not, would have been seen as aughable embarrassment for any Alpha. Though progress was slow, it was tangible, as humans began to prove themselves worthy of more than just positions of subservience.


    Yes, both humans and werewolf-sses alike still preferred to mingle mainly amongst their own kind, Alpha''s being particrly notorious for this, but I had always chosen to focus on the progress, rather than the challenges humans still faced in our society.


    On the drive home, I started to think about our wedding ns.


    Arthur and I had been together for a year now and moved in together six months ago. It''s quite a long engagement for fated mates, but as a human, I''m fine with taking it slow. Now with the child, I guess we had to think about getting married. I pulled up in front of our house and looked it over with new eyes. It was a two- bedroom. Would we need to get a bigger ce now?


    But then, if Arthur were to be the next Alpha President, we''d be living at the President''s Residence in the capital for the next ten years, twenty if he were re- elected. It was enough to make me giddy.


    I set my purse down and went into the kitchen. I made myself a cup of herbal tea. No caffeine or alcohol for me for a while. I realized I was humming the Beatles'' song "Penny Lane" andughed.


    "You''re in a good mood," a familiar and beloved voice said from behind me.


    With a little squeal, I turned around, cup in hand. Arthur looked magnificent in his dark gray suit that set off the width of his shoulders and the trim lines of his waist and hips. More than that, he looked happy, his face uplifted by one of his rare deep smiles.


    "You got it?"


    He gave a little bow. "You are now looking at thetest and greatest candidate for Alpha President."


    I set down the cup and ran to him to wrap him up in a hug. Heughed, a rare event, and kissed me so deeply my toes curled. When he raised his head, I smiled into his face and wondered if our baby would inherit his dark hair and even darker green eyes.


    "Your voicemail said you had news as well?" he asked.


    I nodded, and it felt like I had champagne in my blood. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the report. Looking puzzled, he took it from me and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the page, and his smile disappeared.


    I noticed his body going stiff and his dark brows pulled down in a frown. He looked


    at me, and his expression was shuttered.


    "You''re pregnant?" he asked tly. "With a human fetus?"


    "Well, yes, but don''t call it a fetus. It''s our baby, our perfect little baby."


    He looked back down at the test results, and now his eyes were hard and cold.


    "Arthur?" I asked, my whole body going cold. "What''s wrong?"

 Chapter 2

    CHAPTER 2: A New Reality


    Iris POV


    I waited for an answer, but Arthur just looked at me, his expression going from cold to unreadable. I was going to insist he say something when someone knocked loudly on our door. Arthur turned and opened the door wide, smiling his professional smile as several people came through.


    I recognized some of them from articles and TV interviews where they''d been discussing Arthur''s possible candidacy, but others were strangers. They were all obviously, though not ostentatiously, wealthy, and they were all alphas, except two beta males who acted like assistants to their alpha bosses.


    Feeling the pressure to be a gracious hostess, I stepped forward and weed them all to our home, but they only made the briefest eye contact with a few nods and then seemed to forget I existed.


    "So, you''re the human?" one of them asked with that haughty but not quite insulting disdain I was so used to from alphas. He was about Arthur''s age but not quite as tall and sporting well-coiffed light brown hair.


    I said something about my name, but no one seemed to notice that either.


    "Why don''t you go upstairs and have a rest?" Arthur turned to me, and I was hoping he would use the moment to introduce me properly, but instead he said, "We can continue what we were talking aboutter."


    I wanted to protest, to point out that as his future wife and mother to his child I had every reason to remain with these people as they discussed Arthur''s future. But Arthur''s eyes had gone cold, not the ones that I familiar with, and with reluctance I agreed, stepping back from a part of Arthur''s life I had never truly realized before excluded me.


    Yes, I thought as I climbed the stairs with what felt like lead in my shoes, my life with Arthur had always been private, but I had never thought he was ashamed of me or wanted to hide me from the other people in his life. Had I been na?ve? Those alphas hadn''t treated me with the respect one would give to a housemaid.


    I went into the main bedroom to change out of the suit I''d worn to the doctor''s and put on my jeans and paint-sttered smock, which made me feel better right away. My canvas was as I had left it, washes and waves of bright colors that would be the background to the field of wildflowers I was painting to celebrate my recent BA in fine art.


    Growing up, I''d always known I wanted to paint. The only true obstacle was money, but I''d worked hard and received several schrships to get through college in four years.


    It took a little longer than usual, but eventually I was lost in my art, what Arthur liked to call my "other-world trance." The brush was an extension of my body that allowed me to soar and dance.


    I was painting in oils, which I ground and mixed up myself, and the images on the canvas wereing together just as I wanted.


    I breathed in the smell of linseed oil, which I knew some people found harsh, but it was an old friend to me, like an actor and the smell of greasepaint, I supposed. It was the one area of my life where I had found praise and appreciation even from betas and alphas.


    I found myself wondering if any of the Alphas downstairs liked art before sternly telling myself I didn''t need their approval.


    I found it much harder to concentrate than usual. I''d been given two great pieces of news with the baby and Arthur''s candidacy, so why was I feeling so alone, so far removed from my mate? I scowled at my canvas. The joy I was trying to show wasn''ting through; the lines looked uncertain and confused.


    I painted undisturbed until the sun went down, powering through until I was a little happier with the painting, if not with my situation in general.


    Painting in artificial light had never worked for me, even when my subject was abstract. I crept down to the kitchen and made a sandwich, listening to the murmur of the alpha''s voices in the living room, then went back upstairs and looked over the canvas I was prepping before giving it a good sanding.


    I went to bed alone, feeling cold and unsettled. Muchter, well past midnight, Arthur joined me, his body a little damp from his nightly shower. Still mostly asleep, I rolled over then and put an arm over his chest. He responded immediately, chuckling softly, and held me back tenderly.


    I was half asleep, so it was not a good time to discuss our baby, but I felt my fears dissipate somewhat as he kissed my chin, my forehead, and then my lips. His warm hand ran over my shoulder and around my back, and again I was pleasantly overwhelmed with the sensation of the way my fated mate just fit against my body and, I presume, my soul. He pulled down the strap of might nightgown and kissed my shoulder, then down to my beasts, which he bared to the cool air of the room and his own warm breath.


    I shivered, and I felt him smile. But even as I responded to his touch, I wondered how real this was.


    I was still feeling that ambivalence the next morning, but I waited Arthur and I both had a little coffee before I asked, "Are you ready to talk about the pregnancy now?"


    "Yes, we do need to talk," he said, "but I have to get to the office."


    "I see. This evening, then?"


    He shook his head and looked at his watch. "I have an alpha gathering and fundraiser this evening after work at the Waldorf, so don''t wait up for me."


    "The Waldorf?" I repeated, smiling at him with gritted teeth. "Sounds like fun. I''ve never been there."


    He shrugged and then drained his coffee. "Alphas only, likest night. You wouldn''t have anyone to talk to."


    I wanted to say he could introduce me to his friends and then I would have many people to talk to, but instead I pressed him for at least some feedback about our child.


    He took his briefcase off the counter and checked inside. "If you want to keep it, I''ll cover all expenses, of course."


    "Expenses?" I asked, deeply disappointed and not bothering to hide it.


    He looked up then. "Children are expensive, and my child should be raised with care and respect. You''ll need to step up for at least this year while I campaign."


    "But we''re fated mates," I objected. "Shouldn''t we get married when we''re having a child?"


    He looked at me sternly. "Voters will not like a human Luna."


    My mouth opened in shock. "That is so discriminatory! You told me you would be running on a tform for human-wolf equality!"


    He looked like he restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "There''s a big difference between championing for people''s rights and shoving a human Luna down their throats."


    "What did you just say?" I leapt up from my stool and stood there.


    He waved at me, using the motion to check his watch. "Look, I''ll easily be able to give you a million dors for raising the kid," he said, lingering slightly on the human ng for "child." "That''s more than you''ll need."


    I almost threw something at him. "This is about your fatherhood to our child, not money."


    "Look, I have to get to work, and I''ll be working a lot more for a while. You tend to things as you think best." He stood and grabbed his briefcase, and my anger just kept me standing there to watch him walk out of the kitchen. I heard the door to the garage open and close.


    In a sort of fog, I cleaned up the tes from breakfast. What was happening? Was I the mother of his child, his fated mate, and his future wife, or not? And if not, what the hell was I?


    I sat on the sofa in the living room, unable even to gather myself enough to paint. Nothing made any sense, and everything I had thought my life was wasn''t real. I was too stunned even to cry.


    There was a brisk knock then, and I walked robotically to the front door, wondering if Arthur had forgotten something. A tall, beautiful alpha woman stood there.


    "Hello?" I asked her. "May I help you? Who are you?"


    "Oh, I''m Selina," She said with a polished smile, "Arthur''s fianc¨¦e. I came to see who I''ll be sharing my husband with."

 Chapter 3

    #CHAPTER 3: Phone Call


    Iris POV


    "What?" I asked, though I wasn''t any more shocked than I had been before opening the door.


    Life had lost its context. This was just something on top of what had already urred.


    "May Ie in?" she asked even as she strode past me with a whip of blond hair and whiff of expensive perfume. I watched from behind as she walked to the sofa, her long legs impably cased in ck velvet pants and her top covered in wispyyers of purple silk. She set herself down.


    "Do you have any coffee?" she asked.


    "You''re going to marry Arthur?" I asked as I pushed the front door closed.


    "Yes, and soon." She looked smug. "At first, of course, when I heard he had some human lover he adored, I said no way, but then the situation was exined to me, and well, being Luna isn''t something one just turns down, is it?"


    She frowned and looked at the armchair that so perfectly matched the sofa. "Aren''t you going to sit down?"


    I walked over to the chair and sat. My feet felt a little numb, and so did my fingers.


    "So," she said the second I was in the chair, "he''s told me you''re pregnant, so obviously we need to talk about that. Also, do you have some sort of career you''re pursuing?"


    "I think I need to talk to Arthur before you and I talk further," I said.


    "Call him," she said with a shrug.


    It was difficult to retrieve my phone from my pocket and dial Arthur with my numb fingers, but I managed it. It went to voicemail.


    "I need to wait for him to see my number and call back."


    Selina snorted, looked at me with pity, and then pulled out her phone, which I saw she put on speaker after dialing a number. It rang twice.


    "Yes, Selina?" Arthur''s voice asked, and my stomach sank. It was clear which of us Arthur took seriously.


    "Honey," she said, smiling at me in triumph. "What time are we going to see the engagement dress and rings tomorrow?"


    Arthur sounded a bit impatient but replied, "Ten-thirty."


    "I''ve already booked the seaside mansion for the engagement party."


    "Do whatever you want," he said, and I could see the expression easily on his face. "I''m hanging up."


    She made a little-girl face and spoke in a slightly higher voice. "Haven''t you told your little lover about this yet?"


    "Her name is Iris."


    Selina raised her eyebrows at me as if to say I should be happy he admitted it. I didn''t care.


    "And I told you, she doesn''t need to know."


    "Aren''t you afraid she''ll leave you once she finds out?"


    "She needs my money." Arthur''s response was quick and certain. "With student loans and a child on the way, how could she leave?"


    Ah, I thought, and I found myself nodding as some things started to make sense, not the least was his offer of a million dors to meet my "need." That was evidently how he really saw me: not a future artist he was helping to meet her goals but just some gold-digging parasite. Did he think our child was a parasite too?


    Selina was still talking into the phone "About the child, I''ve thought it over. I don''t want Iris to give birth before our wedding. It would be a scandal."


    "Forcing a woman to have an abortion is illegal, even a human one." I noticed his tone was angry. He was probably worried people would find out and it would hurt his campaign. "Be careful you don''t end up in jail."


    So. Numb throughout my body now, I tried to make myself ept that Arthur didn''t want the child, and his only concern was avoiding legal trouble. I opened my mouth to tell him I was there and had heard every word, but Selina just made a kiss-kiss noise into the phone and ended the call.


    "Well, I can''t force you, it''s true," she said to me, "but you really need to scrape that thing out of you before it causes Arthur trouble. Besides, that my husband will have a human mistress is bad enough; I don''t need a child in the mix."


    She flung her hair behind her left shoulder, a well-practiced move. "Well, Arthur obviously doesn''t want to be the viin here, so as his fianc¨¦, I will, but not heartlessly." Sheughed with a little trill.


    "You''ll be living with us, I suppose, so the best story will be for you to be my assistant. I have one already, but another would be helpful." She shrugged. ¡°So, while I get a contract drawn upplete with NDA, get the fetus aborted and name your price."


    OK, even as a human facing an alpha, I had my limits about being humiliated.


    "I''ll take a billion dors at the end of the week to start, and then we can discuss my sry."


    Selina looked at me as though I''d peed on her shoe, which actually would be quite satisfying.


    "I can''t get a billion dors together in a week!"


    I told her, "Then you can''t afford my child or afford me as your assistant."


    "This is ridiculous," she announced, standing and flinging the strap of her Channel purse over her shoulder. "I''ll have Arthur deal with you." In a few long strides of her legs, she left, mming the door shut behind her.


    Or rather, she would have, but I caught the door and called after her, "But don''t worry, I just want to talk to Arthur one more time. If Arthur really just wants to keep me as a mistress, I''ll leave soon."


    She didn''t bother to answer, probably thinking I was saying I''d leave to bargain for money.


    I didn''t want money. I didn''t want some alpha woman smiling while she destroyed my life. I wanted an exnation, a conversation. I wanted to know my rtionship with my fated mate wasn''t going to end so poorly.


    But then Selina paused and turned with an even bigger smile than before. "You should attend the party this evening. There, you can talk to Arthur all you like." "Arthur said it was alphas-only."


    Sheughed. "There will be plenty of your rank there, trust me." Then she executed a perfect runway turn and walked toward a red sports car parked on the street.


    I remembered the party would be at the Waldorf, so I didn''t have to ask anyone for the address.


    Alone in the house, I bathed and shaved my legs and spent way too much time on my makeup. I had a very nice party dress in a red so deep it looked almost ck, off the shoulder with a full skirt, a ssic. I put it on almost defiantly, trying to find more strength inside.


    I was going to a party, and I was going to enjoy it, damn it. I slid into my best shoes and called for an Uber.


    The Waldorf was aze with lights and sparkling people. I went to the front door with my chin up and walked through the lobby refusing to make eye contact with anyone. At the door of the ballroom itself, however, I was stopped by a hotel employee dressed in red and ck.


    "Excuse me, miss," he said. "Humans require an alpha escort beyond this point."


    That strength I had stoked up inside drained away. Even dressed to the nines, I was being rejected out of hand. I stared at his polite but distant eyes. He was an omega, it was easy to see. I wanted to touch him to see if he flinched from being sullied by a mere human like me.


    This is Arthur''s world, I thought, something I had never thought before during all our time together. He thinks I have no ce here. Maybe he''s right.


    "Iris?"


    A familiar voice called my name from behind me, and I turned in surprise.

 Chapter 4

    #CHAPTER 4: Invitation


    Iris POV


    My friend and former senior ssmate Brian Eldridge was standing there in a tuxedo, his salt-and-pepper hair, which was usually a sort of disheveled halo around his head, had been neatlybed, and his typically paint-smeared hands were clean and with shiny, recently manicured nails.


    "Brian?" I asked.


    He smiled at me and then looked beyond me to the hotel employee. "She''s with me," he said with authority.


    I was surprised again. Brian was an alpha? People at the university assumed


    Brian was a beta, and he didn''t correct them. But then, he might have faced some pushback on that; alphas rarely went into the arts.


    It wasn''t "powerful" enough for them.


    He held out his arm for me now, which I took. "You look lovely tonight, Iris," he said.


    "You clean up nicely yourself," I said back with a smile as he led me inside the room, which wasvishly decorated and absolutely teeming with party-goers. Selina had been right: many were obviously not alphas.


    "What brings you to this boring all-alpha shindig, my dear?" Brian asked.


    "My fated mate is here," I said firmly. Selina might marry him, but I had been chosen for him. I still had that.


    "Who is that?" he asked in pleased surprise.


    "Arthur Daven."


    Brian stopped in his tracks and looked at me with aplex mix of emotions. "Presidential candidate Arthur Daven?"


    "The same." I gathered myself, waiting for him tough or look at me with pity. He did neither, saying, "I see."


    I waited as people near us danced and drank and traded favors.


    "The party tonight is in celebration of Arthur''s candidacy as well as to announce his engagement to Selina Willford," Brian said, and I wondered if my shattered life were showing on my face.


    This time I was the one who said, "I see."


    He was obviously picking his words with care. "It''s well known in the Alpha circle that Arthur and Selina have been engaged since they were fifteen."


    I nodded and somehow kept my expression pleasant. Fifteen. That means this isn''t because of his presidential run or his corporate ns.


    Then came an even worse thought: Arthur was engaged when we met. All the alphas knew, but I was never important enough to tell.


    No wonder he had been so resistant to our rtionship when we first met. He must have been so disappointed I was human. He had probably thought he was doing me a favor making me his bed-warmer.


    Brian looked away from me, and I saw Selina step up on the little stand where the small band had been ying. The music stopped, and she smiled out over the crowd.


    "Thank you all so much foring tonight," she said, her powerful alpha voice easily reaching out to the crowd. "As so many of you know, Arthur and I are here not just to thank you for endorsing his candidacy for Alpha President but also to join us in celebrating our official enouncement for our formal engagement celebration, which will happen next month on, of course, the full moon."


    There was wild apuse and hearty congrattions all round. I watched as a smiling Arthur stood with Selina, champagne in hand. Confetti fell, and the crowd cheered. I had never seen Arthur look so happy.


    I couldn''t believe noter than this morning I had thought our child would bring Arthur and me together in marriage. He had never intended to be with me. I felt a stabbing pain in my heart followed by another in my stomach.


    I felt a wave of dizziness pass through me, and I remembered I had eaten nothing since breakfast that morning. But the pain in my stomach intensified, and I was unable to stop the ckness that filled my eyes.


    When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My bed was in a private room, I saw right away, and there was arge window to my right through which I could see dawn breaking.


    On my left was a figure it took me a minute to recognize, wanting it so desperately


    to be Arthur. But it was Brian who sat there, still in his tuxedo.


    His kind eyes watch me struggle fully awake.


    "What happened?" I asked.


    "You fainted, my dear girl," he said gently.


    My face flooded with heat. "In front of everyone?"


    He shook his head. "You were very graceful, and a caterer helped me get you out


    of the room. Considering all the celebrating, I don''t think anyone really noticed."


    "Well, I have that," I said faintly.


    Brian looked at me in concern. "I had to say I was family to stay with you, and the doctor told me about your pregnancy. She also said you were dehydrated." He nodded to the IV hooked up to my arm.


    "I see," I said. I was saying that a lot. I shook it off. "Thank you so much for your help."


    "I confess, I was more than a little concerned when you said Arthur is your fated mate. Did you really not know about Selina?"


    I shook my head.


    "So." He sighed. "You''re unmated, pregnant, and, if you''re like me, awash in student loans."


    I nodded and felt my stomach churn with anxiety. Tears were forming in my eyes, and everything just seemed so bleak, even hopeless.


    The silence was getting unbearable when Brian spoke. "I think you should leave Arthur."


    I stared at him in shock.


    "I know your ns after graduation were to hold your first off-campus exhibition,"


    he said next. "I told you I would help with that, and I meant it."


    "I don''t understand," I said, starting now to feel numb. "You''ve changed your mind?" Was I not worth his trouble now?


    He looked surprised. "No, I still mean it. I just, well, are you thinking you''ll be keeping the child?"


    I straightened my spine. "Absolutely."


    He nodded, looking more serious than I was used to from him. "I guessed as much. Surely, though, you realize that with the scrutiny on Arthur now, your status as his fated mate even as he marries an alpha will probably get out?" "Yes." He was right to look serious. I wiped at my left eye as a teardrop welled out.


    "So, let me help you properly," he said. "Yours is a rare and priceless talent, and Ordan is a great country in many ways, but its insistence on keeping obsolete traditions even as politicians give lip service to wolf-human equality."


    Was there some hope in all this after all? "What are you thinking?" I asked.


    "I''m one of four children," he said, "so the family business hardly rests on my shoulders. Bo''Arrocon is a smaller, less wealthy country than Ordan, but it''s a wonderful ce to live and has an amazing art culture. I''m moving there to join an art incubator program."


    He smiled, warming to his topic. ¡°Each month, artists receive a modest but quite livable stipend to support their work with the goal of a major exhibition in two years, and they wee humans and all wolf sses without prejudice." "Sounds wonderful," I said honestly.


    "You, my dear, would shine there. I know it."


    "Me?"


    "Yes." He nodded and took my hand. "I''m leaving tomorrow. I went to the partyst night in great part to say goodbye to some friends. I''m turning it into a road


    trip, seeing the sights, and it will take about three weeks."


    He smiled. "Come with me."


    "Me?" I asked dumbly.


    "Yes."


    I tried to take in what he was saying. "Just go?" I asked. "Tomorrow?"


    The mere idea of leaving Arthur created a physical pain in my chest, and now I was crying in earnest. Brain held on to my hands and murmured, "It will be all right."


    "But I have nothing nned or sorted, and my paintings are still at the school." Lying there looking at my friend, I couldn''t think of a better n, but I also didn''t want to burden Brian with my troubles.


    Brian smiled at me with openpassion. "If money is an issue, I have some I can lend you. You''ll pay it back with no trouble once you start showing your work. And I can get your paintings professionally packed with mine and delivered to us." He shook his head. "But you can''t stay with an alpha like this just because you haven''t nned for this and you loved him. Growing up as an alpha, I''ve seen a lot. You will definitely regret it if you chose to stay now, and soon." "Thank you," I whispered, well aware my face was wet and swollen from crying. "Yes, please, and thank you so much."


    I had actually already been invited to the program by the Bo''Arrocon Art Foundation a few months ago, but I had turned it down, not wanting to be away from Arthur. Lying there looking at my friend, I felt I didn''t want to burden Brian with my troubles, but I also couldn''t think of a better n.


    He looked happy, and, even better, he looked proud.


    The dawn turned into proper morning as I got discharged from the hospital and


    had Brian drive me home. The second I saw the house, I realized Brian was right; just thinking about this home with its happy memories was killing me.


    As Brian said, the paintings at my drawing studio would be packed and sentter together with Brian''s. I just left the unfinished ones where they were. I thought about the confused and cautious lines on my current canvas. I wouldn''t made never seeing that work again.


    I packed up the best of my supplies and some clothes.


    I realized I was leaving the house as though I were guilty of something, so I pulled


    out my phone and called Arthur. Of course, he didn''t answer. I saw on my news feed that word had already broken about Arthur and Selina''s engagement, describing them as a perfect match.


    Feeling even colder inside, I sent a text: Let''s break up now.


    I looked around my-Arthur''s bedroom to make sure I hadn''t left anything important behind. The sense of loss was almost overwhelming, but I knew this


    was the right thing to do. The alternative was uneptable.


    My phone rang. It was Arthur.


    It was the fastest he''d ever called me back after a missed call.

 Chapter 5

    Arthur POV


    I woke up in my office lounge, my neck stuck to the leather and my whole body cold. My mouth tasted like stale champagne and way too much small talk.


    A gentle knock on my office door got me sitting up on the couch. "Come," I said.


    My assistant, a solid beta named Jose, entered my office and smiled. "Congrattions, sir. The news is buzzing about your engagement to Selina Willford. You''re being called the perfect couple!"


    I smiled and thanked him, all the while silently cursing Selina for deciding on her own to tell the world about us. She''d kept the news of our betrothal to herself for years, but she couldn''t have waited a couple days so I could break the news to Iris?


    "I''ll bring you some coffee," Jose said before turning to walk out.


    I was going to tell him to bring a pot when he suddenly came back, holding my personal phone.


    "Sir, I rejected Iris''s call earlier, like usual, but I think you need to take a look at this...."


    I always had Jose filter my personal calls when I was working. If he thought it was important, it must be.


    I started to feel a little uneasy. What had happened with Iris?


    I grabbed the phone from him, and my heart sank as I saw the message from Iris: Let''s break up now.


    "What the hell?" I growled, hackles raising. Was this some sort of joke? Break up?


    I quickly called her back, but the phone went to voicemail. What was Iris thinking? What was she doing?


    I ended up grabbing a cup of coffee from Jose''s hand as I rushed out of the office. "Get my car!" I called back to him.


    I made it outside and waited for the car to be pulled around. Standing there, I dialed Iris again and again ended up with voicemail.


    "Iris," I said into the phone, "call me back immediately. I''m on my way home now."


    The car arrived, and I got behind the wheel with a low growl. I couldn''t drive in a panic. It was bad enough I was being seen in a formal shirt and tuxedo pants in public in the morning. I looked like I was taking a walk of shame.


    No, I told myself, there was no way Iris really wanted to break up. I wasn''t going to marry her, true, but I was still rich and powerful, and she needed someone to help with that baby she was insisting on having.


    No, she would be there at home waiting for me, and when I got there we would talk. I would make her see reason, offer her more money, and everything would be find.


    I said it aloud in the car: "Everything will be fine. I''ll exin, and it will all be fine."


    Money. I knew that was the key. Iris had many wonderful qualities, and she was by some cosmic joke my fated mate, but I knew money was her top priority.


    We''d met at a restaurant when she''de to my table and asked if I wanted something to drink to get lunch started. I''d looked up and known, and she''d done pretty much the same. Fortunately, I''d been dining alone.


    In those early days when we were getting to know each other, I''de to the restaurant often enough to be a "regr," often getting kidded by other servers about my rtionship with Iris, who had told me she was an art student.


    About two weeks in, I''d been sitting at my usual table waiting for her when I heard her talking in the passage between the kitchen and the dining area. She hadn''t known I was there yet, and they were all congratting her on nding" such a catch. Many of them had artistic careers, mostly actors, and they were talking about how I could support her.


    To my difort, she''d agreed,ughing about how I would give her a secure future so she wouldn''t have to starve for her art. The servers had allughed until the manager came over and told them to stop congregating in the passage and get back to work.


    Iris had emerged then, tray in hand, and shot me a casual smile of greeting when she saw me sitting there. I knew my ce in her life then and though it was almost as disappointing as when I''d realized my mate was human, I just left without saying anything.


    At home, however, I''d realized her desires to be secure financially were reasonable. Rtionships could be transactional; it was just my reaction that was excessive. I even realized I should have been relieved because Iris wouldn''t mind that I was marrying for political reasons as long as I kept her bills paid.


    Knowing money controlled Iris meant I only needed to give her enough to keep her. I didn''t think about children, particrly that she would have a human fetus, but that just meant more money.


    All would be well, I told myself, and my shoulders rxed a I pulled into the driveway of our house.


    But the moment I opened the door from the garage into the foyer, I knew something was wrong. To begin with, the house was empty with no other heartbeat but my own. Next, there was a staleness to the ce, as though it had been deserted.


    I walked into the living room where something tiny on the coffee table caught my eye. I picked it up and saw it was a SIM card. Had Iris left this? Had she done it so


    I couldn''t trace her location?


    Had she really, actually left me?


    My phone rang, and I reached for it eagerly, but it was only Selina.


    "Yes?" I asked her.


    "Why aren''t you here?"


    "Where?" I was looking around to see if anything were missing. I decided to check upstairs.


    "At Tiffany''s, of course. We''re supposed to be choosing the engagement ring, remember?"


    "What did you say to Iris?" I demanded.


    "What?"


    "She''s gone. You did this. What did you say to her?"


    "Well, didn''t have to say much. I just gave her some money and told her to end


    the pregnancy and nevere back. She seemed happy to go."


    I stood halfway up the stairs. There was a watercolor hanging on the wall, a school project of Iris''s. "Happy?" I repeated.


    "Yes. She jumped at the money, actually. We signed a contract, and we don''t have to worry about her bothering us again."


    The watercolor blurred, but it wasn''t tears that filled my eyes, only fury. That gold- digger had taken the fastest route out of our rtionship despite my wealth, despite my care of her. Had she even hesitated before agreeing to leave?


    Had she ever really cared about me at all? Let alone love me, the way she kept insisting?


    Well, I wasn''t going to get any answers out of the damn watercolor.


    "I''ll be at Tiffany''s soon," I told Selina and ended the call. Then I dialed a new number.


    "Yes, sir?" Jose asked.


    "Iris has left. I need you to find her. I don''t care how much it costs."

 Chapter 6

    #Chapter 6: Five Years Later


    Iris


    Five years have gone by since that fated day. Five years, and hardly a day has passed that I haven''t thought about it, about the pain that I felt in my chest I drove away from that house and the way my tears blurred the streetlights all around me.


    But life goes on.


    It''s been two years since Ist set foot in Ordan, the city I used to love, but now I''m back. I only came back for my exhibition at the Ordan Modern Art Gallery- otherwise, I probably wouldn''t bother. This city smells like heartbreak to me now, and if this exhibition didn''t mean so much to me, I would have declined the offer. I''ve only been here out of utter necessity over the past five years. But I couldn''t turn down this opportunity.


    The Marsiel Gallery is arge and brilliantly designed space, and since getting my degree five years ago I''ve dreamed of one day showing here. And now here I am, watching as the staff hang another of my over-sized canvases right where I''ve indicated on the pristine white wall.


    I''m happy. My paint-stained overalls are covered in dust and dirt and there''s a hole in my favorite yellow sweater now from carrying artwork, but I can''t help but smile.


    That is, until someone mentions him.


    "The Alpha President and his fianc¨¦e still aren''t married," I hear one of the gallery assistants say to another in passing, and my smile immediately fades.


    Arthur.


    Just thinking about him sets my heart racing, although I feign indifference. I don''t need to hear about his life, his fiancee, or his kingdom.


    "I could use a snack," I say suddenly. "Anybody else want something from the machine?"


    "A Coke sounds good," one of the assistants says, and I tak everyone''s orders and refuse offers of money, saying I''m happy to treat. Walking away, I hope they''ll pick another topic of conversation before I get back.


    Even now, five yearster, I still hate him. And what makes me hate him even more is that I still fucking love him.


    He''s my fated mate. Of course my heart still flutters whenever I think about him, even if I want to wring his neck for the way he treated me.


    When I first ran away with Brian, I tried not to look at Arthur''s face on the news, but I looked anyway. Brian even tried to stop me a few times, telling me that it wasn''t good for my mental health. But over time, I realized that I couldn''t help it. I told myself that I was just curious about the political climate in Ordan, but Brian and I both know that was a lie.


    I just wanted to see if Arthur would take back the things he said. If, in some show of true love, he would turn to the camera and say, "Iris, pleasee back. Please. I''m so sorry. I love you."


    He never did, of course. He never even mentioned me in any of those interviews.


    With a sigh, I make my way to the vending machines. I pick out an orange juice and a cookie for myself, along with everyone else''s orders, then pile everything into my arms and begin heading back to the main area.


    That''s when it happens.


    Fate always has a funny way of manipting the situation, doesn''t it?


    As if on cue, my foot catches on a wet floor sign, and I go pitching forward. Before


    I can stop myself, all of the snacks I''m carrying go flying, the orange juice in particr rolling across the floor and running into a perfectly polished ck loafer.


    I don''t need to look up to see whose foot that shoe belongs to, but against my better judgment, I do anyway.


    He''s standing in the center of a group of people who have now gone silent, and slowly bends down to pick up the juice.


    I almost consider running away, right out the front doors and all the way over the border to Bo''Arrocon without looking back. But I don''t. Not because I don''t want to, but because my body won''t let me.


    Because there, now staring at me with those dark green eyes and that ck hair falling into them, is Arthur.


    I can''t tell if he''s surprised or resentful. Maybe both. And I feel the same.


    Before I can get away, Arthur notices me. "Iris," he says in a light tone of voice. He picks up the juice and holds it out to me.


    "Is this what you left me for?" he asks, those green eyes flicking over me. His voice is somehow even deeper than I remember, and he has stubble across his sharp jaw that wasn''t there before Devilishly handsome, as they say. Emphasis on devil. "Orange juice and a sweater with holes in it?"


    There''s a bitterness in his voice that cuts deeper than I care to admit.


    I frown and yank the juice away, although the way our fingers brush isn''t lost on me. I tug my cardigan tighter around myself, as if that''ll somehow keep his gaze from burning straight through me.


    Of course, I know I don''t exactly look like a model right now. My chestnut brown hair is in a messy braid over one shoulder, I''m not wearing a lick of makeup, and I have dark circles under my eyes from the early train ride into Ordan. It''s not the vengeful meeting I had nned in my head.


    But somehow, I manage to keep myposure-maybe because my mind has finally won out over my heart and I just want to fucking leave.


    "I left you for more reasons than orange juice and sweaters, Alpha President," I grind out, emphasizing thosest two words, before promptly turning on my heel and striding away.


    I''m not even sure where I''m going. I''m fully aware that the only thing in the direction I''m walking right now is the storage room behind the gallery, and that I''ve just left the snacks all over the floor. But I don''t care; I just want to get away.


    Arthur''s gaze follows me the entire time, and I swear I can feel it even after I''ve turned the corner.


    Once I''m out of sight, I lean against the wall and take a deep breath, shutting my eyes and tilting my head back. I clutch the orange juice to my chest, suddenly feeling like I''m about to pass out.


    I didn''t want to see him ever again. I shouldn''t havee back here. And yet, no matter how much I hated that interaction, I almost wish it wouldn''t be ourst.


    But that''s just my heart talking again.


    My heart, which I buried in stone five years ago.


    Suddenly, my phone buzzes. It''s a text from Brian, telling me that he''s passing by and can pick me up. I happily agree and tell him to meet me at the gallery entrance, and I''m d to see that Arthur and his gaggle of admirers is gone as I scurry toward the front door.


    But it''s not Brian''s car that I see pull up when I step down to the sidewalk, inhaling the cool night air.


    It''s a sleek ck sportscar. A really, really expensive one.


    And when the window rolls down, who else would it be except for fucking Arthur?


    "Get in, Iris," he says with all the calmness of someone who''s discussing the weather.


    I frown and fold my arms across my chest. "Piss off."


    He sighs like he''s talking to a grumpy toddler. "Come on, Iris. You''ve been living like this for five years now-poor, struggling, and alone. It''s time toe home now."


    Despite myself, I can''t help butugh. So he still thinks that I''m nothing more than a gold-digging whore. And beyond that, he seems to think that I''m living paycheck


    to paycheck, struggling and all on my own with no one to care about me.


    Well, he''s dead wrong. And he''s about to find out, because Brian''s car pulls up to the curb behind him. The back door opens, and a little boy with brown hair and big blue stumbles out.


    I grin, turning to him and crouching, holding out my arms. He flings himself against


    me.


    "Mommy, we missed you so much, so we came with Daddy!"


    "And I''m so d you came, kiddo," I say, ruffling his hair. Arthur''s sharp inhale, of course, isn''t unnoticed.


    "Mommy?" Arthur blurts out, climbing out of his car. "Daddy?" And then, here''s the kicker: "We?"


    I don''t have to answer him, because a momentter, Brian gets out of the car. He helps a little girl out of the back seat, holding her against his chest as he strides up to us.


    "Iris, darling, sorry to keep you waiting."

 Chapter 7

    Tris


    Arthur looks like he''s about to explode in the subtlest way possible. You would think that after five years apart I wouldn''t be able to see his telltale signs of frustration, but I can still locate the infinitesimal twitch of his jaw like I can locate the freckle on the back of my left hand.


    "You left without a word,¡± he says, his voice low and dangerous, ¡°aborted my child, and had kids with him? They look the same age as our kid would be! How soon did you-"


    "Enough," I say, holding up my hand to stop him. I don''t want Emily and Evan to hear him speak like that. Surprisingly, he goes quiet, probably because he doesn''t want to make a scene in front of children either.


    But truthfully, Arthur has no fucking idea about what happened over the past five years. These aren''t my kids, and that''s not my


    husband.


    When Brian took me back to Bo''Arrocon five years ago, one of the first things he did was introduce me to his husband, Stephen.


    Yes, that''s right; Brian is gay. One of the gayest, actually. I knew that from the start. And Emily and Evan are their twin children,


    born through surrogacy around the same time my little boy was born.


    Brian and Stephen, the kind souls that they are, took me in when I left Ordan. They were there for me all throughout the pregnancy, gave me a ce to live, helped me get back on my feet. I love Brian, but not in a romantic sense. And while I am Emily and Evan''s godmother and they like to call me ''Mommy'', they''re not mine.


    Over time, I became more financially stable on my own as an artist and was able to get my own apartment when my actual son, Miles, was about six months old. But Brian and I are still as close as ever, and I spend a lot of time with the whole family.


    That''s why they''re here: to support me during my exhibition. Brian is an Alpha who lived in Ordan for many years before he


    moved to Bo''Arrocon, and as such, he still has properties and vehicles here in Ordan.


    So actually, I''m staying with him and the kids while I''m here, which is why he''s picking me up.


    But of course, I''m not going to exin that to Arthur. After the awful things he said and did, it''s far too delicious to let him think


    that this is my happy little family-which, technically, it is; just not in the traditional sense-so I decide to let him stew over it.


    "My life now is none of your concern," I say with more calmness than I expected.


    Arthur stiffens. I sh Brian a meaningful nce, and it only takes him a moment to figure out what''s going on. We''ve been


    friends for long enough that we can practically have entire conversations with our eyes at this point.


    So Brian ys along, and for my sake, he doesn''t tell Arthur the truth. Not that we''re lying or anything-we''re just... selectively omitting the truth. Arthur doesn''t deserve to know the truth anyway, in my opinion.


    Arthur looks like he''s about to say something else when Evan, who''s still clutching my leg, pipes up. "Mommy, who is this?"


    #20 Bonus


    "He''s handsome," Emily says, wriggling free from Brian''s arms and sidling up next to her twin brother.


    Evan wrinkles his nose. "I guess so. Is he our uncle or something?"


    I exchange nces with Brian, who looks a little peeved by now. "I guess it''s... something like that," I say, although the thought of having any rtion to Arthur almost makes me gag.


    Arthur is silent for a moment longer, his green eyes sweeping back and forth between the four of us. I can''t tell if he''s angry, stunned, or just downright jealous. But finally, he seems to settle on jealousy, which is pretty riching from him.


    "So you''re the one who stole my fated mate," he growls, swinging toward Brian now. "What kind of a man-"


    "Mommy, why are they angry?" Emily whispers, tugging on my sleeve.


    That seems to shut Arthur up. Even he doesn''t have the guts to start shit in front


    of children. Brian scoops the twins up, one on


    each hip, and shoots Arthur a disdainful nce.


    "Watch your tone around my children," he says calmly before turning to me. "Are you ready to go, darling?"


    I nod and turn to leave, eager to leave this whole situation behind me, but Arthur stops me with a hand on my wrist. "Wait. Can


    we talk?"


    The feeling of his hand on my exposed skin nearly makes my knees give out, although I''m not sure if it''s from terror or residual lust from our fated mate bond. Brian stops, ncing over at me as if to ask if I''m okay, and I hesitate for a moment.


    "You owe me that much," Arthur says, his voice quieter now. Calmer, like he''s trying to control himself.


    I sigh, ncing around. It''ste, but there are still people lingering around the gallery, having gotten wind of the fact that the Alpha President is here. If I strut off now in a huff, it might cause issues in the media-and I want my exhibition to go well, so I figure I should just let Arthur have his way.


    "Two minutes," I say, holding up two fingers. "And not a second more."


    That muscle in Arthur''s jaw ticks again, but he acquiesces. I tell Brian to take the kids to the car and follow Arthur around the side


    of the building, toward an alleyway. Hopefully, I don''t get murdered. Although, despite everything, I know Arthur isn''t that type.


    Unless politics have really changed him that much, which is... possible, I suppose wryly.


    Once we''re alone, I fold my arms across my chest and turn to face him. "What do you have to say?"


    "Did you get married, abort my child, and have twins with him that quickly?" he blurts out. "Or are they-


    "None of that concerns you," I cut him off. "The clock is ticking, Arthur, Say what you have to say now before I change my mind."


    "Come back to Ordan with me."


    Theugh that slips out of me is immediate and has no humor in it whatsoever. "Come back with you?" I scoff. "What do you


    want me back for? You''re about to get married, aren''t you? Or have you already gotten so used to her that you want my body


    back?"


    +20 Bonus


    Arthur''s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, he just stares at me incredulously. And then heughs, and it''s then that I know I hit


    a nerve


    "Yes," he says, taking a step closer to me. "Sleep with me one more time, Iris. Name your price. And if I''m satisfied, I''ll pay extra


    and keep you around long-term."


    Even now,


    after five years, hearing these words makes my heart bleed. So he does only want me for the physical sensation of sleeping with his fated mate. When I left, I hadn''t given myself to confront him; but hearing him say now that he only sees


    s me as


    a potential concubine of sorts-even more so the fact that he even thinks so low of


    me as if I would actually be interested in that


    sort of thing-feels like a knife in my chest.


    "I don''t want to be your mistress," I growl, turning away to leave.


    Suddenly, strong hands pull me back. The cold bricks of the building press into my


    back, firm fingers holding my wrists against


    the wall.


    The next moment, he kisses me.

 Chapter 8

    Iris


    The kiss is warm, familiar, and entirely consuming.


    And for a brief, fleeting moment, I nearly fall into the abyss of it all-the way his lips mold so perfectly to mine, the press of his


    hands against my waist in the spots where they once fit like puzzle pieces, the rough thrust of his tongue onto my mouth.


    He knows my body better than anyone else. Better than me, even, He can y me like a fiddle, plucking the strings in all the right


    ces to get the perfect melody out of me.


    Arthur''s hands skim across my sides, finding all the spots that used to set me on fire. He knows what he''s doing, and he''s doing it


    damn well.


    And for this split second, I let it happen. The memories of what we once shared threaten to drown me. We are fated mates, after


    all, bound by something primal and unyielding. Once upon a time, we were lovers who dreamed of forever, who whispered of a


    future filled with love.


    But that was before. Before his betrayal. Before the walls I''ve since built around my heart hardened into steel.


    Before now.


    Suddenly, reality pierces through the haze of heat and longing. Just beyond the alley, I can hear the chatter of people walking by. My colleagues are probably packing up by now after a long day at the gallery.


    The juxtaposition of what we once had and what we are now hits me with devastating rity.


    We''re fated mates, and yet here we are, hidden in an alley like criminals, engaging in something sordid and forbidden.


    This isn''t love. This isn''t redemption. This is desperation, anger, and lust tangled together.


    Before it can go further, I press my hands into his chest and shove him back. It doesn''t do much, because he''s a werewolf and I''m not and therefore he''s far stronger physically than I could ever be, but he pulls back just enough to meet my gaze.


    "Stop," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Behave yourself, Arthur."


    His green eyes glint with something dark and frustrated. "Behave myself?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "You can''t deny it, Iris. I can smell your arousal. Stop lying to yourself."


    My stomach twists at his words. Of course, he would use that against me. Of course, he would reduce everything that I feel, everything that he did to me five years ago, to nothing more than a reaction of our bodies.


    Maybe he knew that when he kissed me. He thinks he can manipte me now, use the fated mate bond to his advantage, but it won''t work. I''m different now than I was before.


    "You''re insufferable," I spit out, giving his chest another shove. This time, he takes a single staggering step backwards, giving


    174


    +20 Bonus


    me just enough space to wriggle away and put more distance between us.


    But Arthur closes the distance once more in two long strides. His towering frame looms over me, his shadow casting long across the bricks. His lip curls, revealing gleaming white fangs, the same fangs that used to make me shiver whenever they grazed my


    skin.


    But I don''t cower or shiver or give in to his tactics. Because, like I said, I''m different now. And I know what he is now: a


    maniptive, lying prick.


    I hold my chin high.


    "Come back to


    your price."


    "he says, although his tone isn''t genuine. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Name


    I stare at him in incredulity as he rifles through his wallet for a rather sizable stack


    of cash. We were well off before, as Arthur is from a wealthy family, but handing


    out cash like candy? Arthur was never so arrogant.


    "I don''t need your money," I blurt out, the words like venom.


    He hesitates, his green eyes flicking up to me. "Why not?"


    His words, so simple and yet so loaded, send another jab of pain through my chest. So this is what he thinks of me, still, after all


    this time. He thinks I''m a gold digger, just like his fiancee said. "Do you think I''m that desperate for money?" I scoff.


    "Aren''t you?"


    I want to p him, but I don''t. Instead, I lift my chin a little higher and say, "Regardless of what you seem to think, Arthur, I''m living a perfectly happy life. I have a beautiful family, and a thriving art career. I''m content without your money." Arthur''s eyes narrow, a sh of something unreadable crossing his face. But I''m not finished. After what he did to me, I want to


    twist the knife just a little bit deeper.


    "And what about you, Alpha President?" I hiss, my breath spraying hot across his neck as I dip my voice to a near whisper. "Are you content? Or should I offer you to be my mistress instead?"


    That seems to strike a nerve. Something low and dangerous rumbles in Arthur''s throat, and he ms his palm into the wall above my head. His chest heaves, nostrils re, eyes begin to glow that unnatural werewolf green that I once only saw whenever I made


    him climax in our old bed


    "You really are heartless," he growls before pulling away and storming off.


    Only once he''s out of sight do I let out a breath. I clutch at the small heart-shaped locket around my neck, confused. Me? I''m the heartless one? He''s the one who thought he could use me as his human mistress, a gold digger unworthy of being his queen.


    But it''s no matter. He''s gone now, and I hope I won''t see him again.


    Back in the car, Emily and Evan are buckled into their car seats, swinging their legs. I try to maintain an illusion of calm as I climb into the passenger seat, although Brian notices my expression immediately.


    +20 Bonus


    ¡°Everything okay?" Brian asks quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to alert the children.


    I nod, although the motion is stiff and disingenuous. Suddenly, my phone buzzes, and I pull it out to see that it''s a FaceTime call


    from the babysitter back in Bo''Arrocan. I swipe to answer. I can''t help but smile when I see my son''s scrunched up face shoved into the camera, taking up the entire screen.


    "Mommy!" Miles'' tiny voice cries out, so loud that it res through the speakers.


    "You have to hold the phone further away, kiddo," the babysitterughs in the background. The phone zooms out, and I can see my son''s big smile, his dark hair mussed and his big green eyes wide with excitement.


    "Hey, bud," I say with a genuine smile. "Say hi to Uncle Brian and your cousins,"


    "Hiii!" Miles beams, to which Brian, Emily, and Evan echo in a chorus. "I miss you, Mommy."


    His words make my chest tighten a little. I wanted to bring Miles with me to Ordan, I really did, but I just can''t bring myself to


    take him here. I told myself that it was just because I would be busy and wouldn''t


    be able to care for him, but I know that''s not


    really the case.


    I don''t want him to meet Arthur.


    Ever since I left Ordan, I only ever viewed Miles as my child. Not Arthur''s. He


    wasn''t there during all of the important parts, and


    he never will be. I didn''t want Miles'' spirit to be crushed by a father who only


    values Alpha werewolves, who will only ever think


    of him as the half-blood son of a gold digger.


    And I n to keep it that way.


    "When are youing home?" Miles asks, cocking his head in that adorable way that he picked up from the twins.


    I take a deep breath, brushing my fingers once more across the small locket at my throat-the locket that holds a picture of him.


    "Soon, my little wolf," I say, hoping he won''t see the tears shining in my eyes. "I''ll be home soon.


    Support

 Chapter 9

    Arthur


    I searched for Iris for five years, and today, I finally saw her.


    At first, I felt a mixture of heartache and longing. Finally, I found my fated mate.


    But the longer I watched her today-her smile, her ease with the man and the children-the more the ache turned to anger. How


    can she look so at peace when she has torn my world apart?


    My chest tightens at the memory of her defiant face in that alley. I''ll admit that the anger took hold of me then, and I couldn''t help but mock her for leaving me for money.


    And then I tried to offer her more than whatever that bastard could give her. But for some reason, she refused. And she looked like


    she wanted to kill me.


    Now, as I sit in my studyter that night, the confusion consumes me. And so does the anger.


    Æ·


    The thought of her having children with someone else cuts deeper than I expect.


    Judging by their age, she must have moved on


    almost immediately after leaving me and aborting our child.


    My jaw clenches at the image of her in someone else''s arms. And that man- Brian, is it? There is something familiar about him,


    something that makes my instincts bristle. I am her fated mate, and yet she has the audacity to take the money another man


    offered her and cut ties with me?


    She could have had everything: status, a wonderful,rge home to live in, money, a child with me. But she throws it all away,


    aborts the child, for what? Ackluster life with some man who could never make her happy the same way I could?


    In the alley, I impulsively kissed her. I couldn''t help myself. As a top Alpha,


    women have always thrown themselves at me, and


    yet I had to resort to extreme measures to get a kiss from Iris. I guess I thought it would remind her of what we once had, what we


    could have now if she would juste back.


    But she rejected me. And now the kiss just feels all the more bitter.


    My jaw feathers and I use my Mindlink to contact my


    v Beta,


    Ezra


    "Yes sir?¡± Ezra''s voice echoes through the pack bond. Once, our people lived in packs, and each Alpha had the ability tomand


    his legions through the Mindlink. Now, that''s a skill only reserved for the Alpha President, although mates can Mindlink each.


    other.


    I could never Mindlink Iris, though. She''s my fated mate, but she''s still a human, and thus devoid of many of the powers that we


    werewolves possess.


    "Find out everything about the man Iris has been cavorting around with. His name


    is Brian," I tell Ezra. My mental voice is colder


    than I intend, but I need answers. "His rtionship to her, his background, everything."


    +20 Bonus


    "Iris? You mean... Iris Iris?"


    I resist rolling my eyes. "Yes. Do I need to repeat myself?"


    "No, Alpha President," Ezra replies. "I''ll have a report tomorrow."


    With that, I close the link and sink back in my chair, the weight of the day pressing down on me.


    Selina''s name shes on my phone screen then. I hesitate before answering.


    "Arthur, darling," she purrs, her tone sweet and cloying. "Are we still on for lunch tomorrow? We need to finalize the wedding


    ns."


    The wedding. The agreement between her family and mine. I have been avoiding it for weeks, years even, hoping for rity. Seeing Iris today has only muddied the waters further. But I have no reason to break off such an arrangement for a woman who


    left me and built a life with another man.


    "Yes, I''ll be there," I say curtly.


    Selina giggles, oblivious to my mood. "Wonderful. I''ll see you at noon."


    The


    next day, I arrive at the restaurant, my mind still reying the encounter with Iris. It doesn''t help any that the restaurant is so close to the gallery where I saw Iris yesterday.


    Selina is already seated, waving at me with a bright smile. I force myself to return it, though my heart isn''t in it.


    "Arthur, you''re distracted," she says, leaning forward with a coy smile. "Thinking about our wedding night, perhaps?"


    I sigh. "Selina, let''s keep this professional. There''s no need for theatrics." And it''s true; Selina knows very well that our rtionship is purely for business and not love. We''ve never been intimate, and we never will be.


    Her smile falters, but she recovers quickly. "Of course, darling. Now, about the flowers-"


    Her words fade into the background as I notice someone entering the restaurant. Iris. She is rushing in, her cheeks flushed, her


    hair catching the light in a way that makes my breath hitch. She speaks briefly to the hostess, her voice too soft for me to hear,


    but I catch snippets of her words: "celebration... birthday... family."


    Family. The word twists in my chest. She smiles as she speaks, a genuine warmth that I haven''t seen in years. And then, just as


    quickly, she is gone, leaving the air charged with her presence.


    Selina notices my distraction. "Arthur, is everything all right?"


    "Excuse me for a moment," I say, standing abruptly. I walk to the front desk, my heart pounding.


    "That woman who just made a reservation," I say to the hostess. "What time is it for?"


    The hostess


    The hostess hesitates, ncing nervously at me. "Seven o''clock, Alpha President."


    +20 Bonus


    "Cancel all reservations for tonight," I order. "I want the restaurant for myself."


    The hostess''s eyes widen. "But, Alpha President, some of the guests..."


    "Do it," I say, my tone leaving no room for argument.


    I have never used my Alpha President authority to do something as trivial as rent


    out an entire restaurant just to get back at


    someone. But it isn''t just someone; It''s Iris.


    The hostess immediatelyplies. No one is going to deny the Alpha President''s


    request. Hosting an event for me would


    certainly boost the restaurant''s business, too.


    As the hostess hurriedly makes the changes, I hear an iing Mindlinking from my Beta, a persistent buzz at the back of


    my mind.


    "Well?" I call out mentally, knowing exactly why he''s linking me.


    ¡°Alpha President, I have the information you requested," he says. "Brian isn''t Iris''partner. He''s married... to a man. The children


    are his, born through surrogacy. Iris is their godmother."


    The air seems to leave my lungs. Not her children. Not her family. Relief and confusion war within me.


    "Understood," I say, closing the link. I turn back to the hostess. "Never mind. Leave the reservations as they are. And add one for


    me at seven."


    "As I return to my seat, I think about what tonight might bring. What on earth I am supposed to do. How many people will be with


    her? Undoubtedly her fake family, but anyone else? A celebration could have a crowd. Do I really want to do this with all those


    witnesses who will undoubtedly eavesdrop? What am I even supposed to say?


    Selina''s voice cuts through my thoughts. "Arthur, are you even listening?" "Yes," Ilic, forcing a smile. "Tell me about the flowers again. You said yellow?" Selina smiles and nods,unching into her spiel about daisies or roses or something simr. I really couldn''t care less. My mind is


    still whirring, counting down the hours until seven o''clock. SURPERISE GIFT: 3850 bonus free for you,activity time is limited!

 Chapter 10

    "Thank you, darling," she said.


    +20 Bonus


    Tony''s was a good ce for spotting political figures, and Selina and I went there often, so my arrival didn''t create much of a stir. Several people did find a reason to walk by our table, and I ended up shaking a few hands.


    Selina was in her element, and when a friend of hers stopped by for a little small talk, I took a moment to look out the window and realized we weren''t across the street from the gallery where Iris had been working the day before.


    "Arthur?"


    I saw Selina''s friend had left and my fianc¨¦ was staring at me.


    "Sorry," I said with a smile. "What was that?"


    "I asked if you had any preferences regarding the catering."


    "We''ll be using my personal chef. I''ve told him to present me with a menu, and I imagine he''ll have preferences about the wait


    staff."


    "I''m assuming we''ll be having an open bar," she said.


    "Naturally."


    The waiter came up with our food, which I only vaguely remembered ordering.


    "What shall we have for our first dance?" she asked me, smiling coquettishly, which I found annoying.


    "Considering this is a business arrangement, there''s no need to flirt with me." She pouted. "Maybe I want to flirt and you just happen to be there."


    I chuckled. "Maybe."


    We nailed down a few more details, deciding on a live band instead of a DJ and debating cake vors. Selina excused herself to thedies'' room, and I went back to looking out the window.


    I didn''t even why I kept staring. But as soon as Iris emerged from the gallery, I


    realized whom I was expecting to see. To my surprise, she rushed into the


    restaurant. She didn''t see me, but I could hear as she went to the hostess''s stand and made a


    reservation for the evening


    "We''re celebrating children''s birthdays tonight," I heard her say. "We''ll need a table for five."


    So, Iris was having dinner with her family, and the image that sprang to my mind filled me with envy. I saw her leave the restaurant with a wide smile on her face, and my envy turned sharply into jealousy.


    I went to the hostess''s stand and asked for the owner, whose name was Frank, not Tony. He came up to the stand and asked how


    he could be of help.


    "I''d like to book the restaurant for tonight," I said.


    "Certainly, Alpha President Table for how many?"


    +20 Bonus


    "Not a table, the whole restaurant," I exined. "You''ll need to cancel whatever other reservations you have."


    He looked like he wanted to object, but instead he just nodded and conveyed instructions to the hostess. I knew he was thinking


    that hosting an event for the Alpha President would be great for his business.


    I squashed a niggle of difort. I didn''t usually y my Alpha President card for something as trivial as a reservation. In fact, I


    was aware that spoiling Iris''s ns was more than a little childish. I was about to tell Frank to forget it if it were too difficult


    when my phone rang.


    When I saw Jose''s name on the screen, I held up a finger to the owner and stepped aside to answer.


    "What is it?" I asked.


    "Sir, Iris no and Brian Eldridge are not in a romantic rtionship. In fact, he''s married to a man named Liam Cartier, and the two children are theirs through a surrogate. The family lives in Bo¡¯Arrocon and has for many years."


    "I see. It seems likely Iris has been living in Bo''Arrocon as well."


    "It would exin why I''ve been unable to find her, sir."


    "Good work, Jose."


    "Thank you, sir."


    I ended the call and went back to the owner, who told me it looked like I''d just heard some good news.


    "Yes, Frank. In fact, I''ve had a change of ns. I don''t need to book the restaurant, but if you would, I''d like a reservation for a


    table."


    "For how many, sir?"


    "Just one."

 Chapter 11

    Iris


    The morning sun filters through the curtains, warming my face and pulling me out


    of a restless sleep. For a moment, I linger in bed. But it''s not a restful state that I''m in; rather, my mind keeps reying the events that urredst night in that alley.


    Arthur''s words, his usations, and most of all that kiss haunt me. My mind is warring between frustration and longing. Maybe it''s because I can still feel his mouth on mine if I shut my eyes, if I run my fingers across my lips. I want to throttle him, but I also


    want to throw myself at him..


    But I don''t have time to dwell on the past, because my phone suddenly buzzes on the nightstand, jolting me fully awake. When I answer, the enthusiastic voice of the gallery curator greets me.


    **Iris,


    s, congrattions! Your exhibition is a hit! Almost all the pieces you marked for sale are reserved, and there''s a lineup of galleries and museums wanting to coborate with you. This is huge!"


    Hearing those words sends a rush of relief and excitement through me, temporarily blotting out the pain ofst night''s unexpected interaction with Arthur. I jolt upright, clutching my locket. It feels like validation for all my years of hard work, all my


    years spent channeling my struggles and pain into my art.


    "Thank you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can''t believe it."


    "Well, believe it," the curator replies, and I can hear her smile through the phone. "You deserve this, Iris. Your work is fantastic."


    After hanging up, I take a deep breath and smile for what feels like the first time in days, tears of joy in my eyes. This is what I''ve fought for these past five years- starting from scratch, enduring sleepless nights, and bncing motherhood with my passion.


    All of it is finally paying off. Right away, I want to celebrate.


    A knock at the door brings me back to the present. Brian''s voice follows.


    "Iris? Are you up? The twins want you to join them for breakfast."


    "I''ll be right out," I call back, throwing the covers off of myself. I pad to the wardrobe and pick out afortable outfit, then


    make


    my way out to the kitchen.


    At the small, sunlit breakfast nook in the kitchen, Emily and Evan are already giggling over their pancakes, their little faces


    lighting up the room brighter than the sun streaming in through the skylight. Brian is pouring coffee, and his partner, Liam, is


    trying to coax the twins into eating some fruit.


    The sight fills me with a warm sense of belonging. I wish Miles was here, but I still can''t help but smile.


    "Today is a big day for you," Brian says as he hands me a steaming cup of coffee. "Also, don''t forget it''s their birthday today." He


    nods toward the twins.


    "How could I forget?" I grin, ruffling Evan''s hair. "What do you two want for your big day?"


    +20 Bonus


    "Cake!" Emily deres, her lips smeared with pancake syrup.


    "And don''t forget presents," Evan adds with an impish little smile.


    Brian chuckles. "I think we''re already covered on both of those fronts. But Iris, you''ve been working nonstop. Let us treat you to dinner tonight."


    "Absolutely not," I say firmly. "Let me handle dinner. How about that Italian ce near the gallery? I''ve heard great things about


    Brian hesitates but eventually relents. "Fine. But only if we get to pick up the tab next time."


    "You''ve got a deal."


    Later in the afternoon when I have some downtime at the gallery, I hurriedly make a reservation at the restaurant, ensuring


    everything will be perfect for the twins. By evening, we''re dressed and ready, the kids bouncing with excitement as we pull up


    the venue.


    As we climb b out of the car, I smooth my hands down the front of my dress, taking a deep breath. I''ve picked out a sleek baby blue


    dress that falls just above my knees. My hair is swept up into a high updo, tendrils framing my face, and I''m wearing a pair of low


    ck pumps. I''ve even thrown on a bit of makeup, something that isn''t terriblymon for me.


    I feel like a million bucks. And I hope not to run into Arthur again, but if I do, I know I at least look good. Maybe now he won''t


    think I''m just a poor, practically homeless gold digger with no prospects.


    The warm, inviting atmosphere of the restaurant sets the perfect tone, too. We''re shown to a candlelit table in the corner, arge window overlooking the city below.


    Ordan has always been beautiful-I''ll give it that. As much as I''ve grown to love the quaint port city of Bo''Arrocan, I still miss the


    sights of the towering skyscrapers and cobblestone streets of Ordan, the perfect blend of modern and historical.


    So long as I pretend that Arthur doesn''t live here, I can enjoy the city that I used to love.


    I smile as Emily and Evan immediately start chattering about the menu, bouncing in their chairs.


    But of course the levity doesn''tst long.


    We''ve barely just settled into our seats when I feel a familiar presence. I turn to see Arthur entering the restaurant. My stomach tightens. Of all the ces in this city, why here? He seems to notice me almost instantly. His gaze lingers on our table, and then,


    of course....


    The bastard approaches.


    "Is this a birthday celebration?" he asks, as if he didn''t just try to


    hand me a wad of cash to leave my family behindst night. His


    eyes flick briefly to Brian and Liam before returning to me.


    The table falls silent. Beside me, I can feel Brian stiffen, that protectiveness of his taking over. But before he can say anything, I straighten my posture, meeting Arthur''s gaze head-on. "Yes, it is."


    #20 Bonus


    Arthur''s expression shifts ever so slightly, as though he''s pieced something together. I know then that he must have found out about Briss


    and Liam''s rtionship, about the twins. He says nothing more, just nods and returns to a table not far from ours.


    "Well, that was awkward," Liam mutters under his breath, attempting to lighten the mood.


    I force a smile. "Let''s not let it ruin the evening."


    We focus on celebrating the twins, enjoying the delicious food and their infectiousughter. But I can''tpletely ignore


    Arthur''s presence. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him sitting alone, asionally ncing in our direction. His mood seems


    markedly different from the previous night-calmer, almost contemtive.


    He must know the truth. And I can''t help but wonder if he''s going to try to use it against me in some way.


    As the waiter brings our food out, Emily leans over to me. "Mommy, why is the weird man here again?"


    "Just a coincidence, sweetheart," I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face.


    Liam picks up the conversation, steering it back to the kids'' favorite topic- presents. I try to focus on their excitement, but my mind keeps drifting. Memories of Arthur and the life we could have had together creep in, unbidden and unwee.


    Lost in thought, I reach for my bowl of soup, misjudging the distance, and tip it. The hot liquid sshes onto my leg, burning my


    skin, and I gasp in pain.


    Before I can react further, strong arms scoop me up from my chair.


    I look up to find Arthur''s face inches from mine.

 Chapter 12

    Tris


    Arthur whisks me away from the table before I can even protest. I''m not even sure if Brian, Liam, or the twins notice him taking


    me away-it''s as if I''m sitting at the table one moment, hot soup sshing across my leg, and the next we''re in the bathroom.


    Even though werewolves are supernaturally fast, Arthur has always been one of the fastest.


    "Arthur, what are you-"


    "Quiet," hemands, his fingers deftly pushing up the skirt of my dress to reveal my burnt leg. The soup must have been hotter


    than I expected, because my skin is inmed and already callusing slightly, and I wince as he turns on the faucet and runs cold


    water over it


    "You could''ve been more careful," Arthur snaps as he soothes the burn.


    "I don''t need you to tell me how to take care of myself," I grind out. But the way my fingers dig into his broad shoulder and the


    strained tone to my voice betrays me.


    Arthur''s jaw tightens as he looks at me, his piercing green eyes locking onto mine. "Clearly, you do."


    I want to argue, to tell him to back off, but I can''t seem to find the words. The proximity, the scent of him-familiar and intoxicating is too much, and the fated mate bond begins to take hold of me.


    I swallow hard and force myself to look away. I want him to be the one to let go of me first, as if that would make all of this easier,


    but he doesn''t.


    Instead, he shuts off the faucet and begins carrying me out of the restroom.


    "This needs ointment," he says simply.


    "Arthur," I reply, trying to wriggle free, "I''m fine. Just let me go back to my family." The mention of that word-family-just seems to make his arms tighten even more around me. He doesn''t answer, but I know it''s pointless to argue any further. He has already decided to take charge.


    With an ease that makes me both annoyed and flustered in more ways than I would like to admit, he whisks me out of the


    restaurant and into the cool evening air.


    "Arthur, put me down," 1 hiss, ncing around to see if anyone is watching. Of course, he ignores mepletely.


    I struggle weakly against his grip, but it''s no use. I''m not sure what he''s nning on doing, but I''m not sure how I feel about it. Does he think he can just spirit me away, force me to be his mistress? I almost consider calling out for help, but something stops


    1. me. The overwhelming sensation of the mate bond, perhaps.


    +20 Bonus


    Even if I try to run, I know I won''t get far. I didn''t expect this, but my leg really does hurt-it must be a third degree burn.


    But once we reach his sleek ck car, he just ces me gently in the passenger seat and opens the glovepartment, pulling


    out a small first-aid kit. He crouches in front of me, his movements precise as he unscrews the cap of a tube of ointment.


    "This might sting a little," he says, his voice softer now.


    "I can do it my


    do it myself," I say, reaching for the tube.


    He swats my hand away. "Stop being stubborn." I grit my teeth and look away.


    The cool ointment against my skin is a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch. Every brush of his fingers sends a


    ripple of emotions through me, each one harder to suppress than thest.


    As he''s smearing the ointment across my burn, the sound of my phone vibrating


    in my pocket breaks the tension. I pull it out,


    relieved to see Brian''s name on the screen.


    "Where are you?" Brian asks as soon as I answer. "You just disappeared."


    "I''m with Arthur," I say, ring at him as he continues applying the ointment. "It''s fine, really. Just finish celebrating with the


    kids."


    "Iris-"


    ¡°Brian,¡± 1 interrupt. "Please. It''s their birthday. Don''t let this ruin it for them.


    There''s a pause before Brian sighs. "Alright. But text me when you get home." "I will."


    The call ends, and I slip my phone back into my pocket. Arthur has already closed the first-aid kit and is putting it away.


    "I''ll drive you home," he says, standing and offering his hand to help me up.


    "I can call a cab," I reply, defiantly crossing my arms.


    "You can barely walk," he points out, his tone brooking no argument. "Just get in the car."


    I hate that he''s right. Reluctantly, I nod and give him my address.


    The car ride is silent, something that''s either a blissful reprieve or just making things worse. I keep my gaze fixed out the


    window, hoping to avoid any further conversation. I just want to get home and not have to look at him again.


    But even then, I find myself murmuring out a faint, "Thank you."


    Instead of answering, Arthur nces at me briefly before reaching for the controls on the dashboard. The music ying on the radio shifts to something softer, something we used to y during long drives together.


    It catches me off guard, and for a moment, I wonder if he''s done it intentionally. I nce at him, my heart thrumming in my chest, but he doesn''t pull his gaze from the road again..


    +20 Bonus


    When we arrive at Brian and Liam''s apartment, Arthur gets out first, opening my door and offering his hand to me again. I hesitate but take it, even if only because I know I can''t quite manage the stairs on my own right now.


    To my


    surprise¡ªand perhaps dismay-he doesn''t stop at the door. He follows me inside, his eyes scanning the space as if trying to piece together the life I''ve built without


    him.


    "Whose apartment is this?" he asks as he runs his fingers across an ornate ss vase on the hallway table.


    "Brian''s," 1 say, ncing at him.


    "You''re living here with Brian''s family?" he asks, indicating that he really has figured out the truth about me and Brian-that we''re not actually together, that I''m just the godmother of his kids.


    "It''s temporary," I say, limping toward the couch. "I''ll leave again soon.


    "Why?"


    "Because I''ll be leaving again soon," I reply, sinking into the cushions and avoiding his gaze.


    Arthur''s expression darkens. "Where did you go before? Are you nning to leave again?"


    "That''s none of your concern," I say, forcing a steadiness into my voice. "You''ve already done more than enough. You can go


    now."


    Arthur hesitates, his eyes fixed on mine. The silence stretches thin between us,


    and I''m not sure if he''s going to listen to me and leave or try to kiss me again. And honestly, I''m not even sure which I''d prefer.


    But then, as if on cue, my phone buzzes from the couch beside Arthur. My heart stops. The ringtone is unique-Miles''


    s'' ringtone and the name on the screen says, "My Baby Boy". All of the evidence Arthur would need to know that I''m lying about our son,


    that I never aborted our baby.


    I can''t let him know about Miles. Miles is my son, not his.


    Before Arthur can say anything, I rush over, reaching for the phone.

 Chapter 13

    Arthur & Iris


    Arthur


    The moment the phone begins to ring, Iris lunges toward it like her life depends


    on it. Her finger smashes the ''decline call''


    button, turning the screen dark before I can see the name lighting it up.


    "What was that?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.


    Iris lifts her chin defiantly, as if I''ve just asked her to tell me her social security number. "Nothing," she says.


    I stare at her for a moment in silence, unsure of what to make of it. She quickly slips her phone into her pocket, and the way her


    fingers tremble ever so slightly betrays her true emotions.


    Something is going on with her. She is not only lying to me, but she''s also acting tantly defensive.


    And for what? She was the one who took off out of nowhere, leaving our life behind so she could abort our baby. And she''s clearly


    living off the wealth of that Brian guy and his husband now. I can already see her true colors, clearer than any of those paintings


    of hers.


    She has nothing left to hide, and yet here she is, treating a simple phone call as if


    it might reveal her deepest secrets.


    **You should go now," she suddenly says, gesturing to the door.


    I feel hot anger re through me at that, along with a twinge of disdain-more


    toward myself than her, shockingly. I feel like a


    fool, and a lovestruck one at that


    After everything she has done, after the way she threw our old life away like it was nothing but trash, I orchestrated a


    ''coincidental'' meeting at the restaurant just so I could see her. I''ve let my


    excitement over the fact that she hasn''t gotten married


    with children during our five years apart take hold of me, turning me into a witless puddle of nostalgia and longing


    But no more.


    I straighten my shoulders and smooth down the front of my suit jacket.


    "I thought this was the case, but I truly see what you are now," I bite out through clenched teeth. "Do whatever you want, go


    wherever you want; I don''t give a shit. Just keep out of my life from now on."


    And with that, I turn on my heel and leave.


    I try not to think about her amber eyes following me all the way out to my car.


    Iris


    #20 Bonus


    Arthur lets the door m on his way out of the apartment, sending a shuddering crash through the foyer that makes my shoulders stiffen. Even with human hearing that isn''t nearly as keen as a werewolf''s, I can hear his footsteps pounding all the


    way down the hall.


    Without thinking, 1 rush over to the window and peer out into the darkened street.


    I can see Arthur storming


    sports car, and then with a rev of the engine, he speeds off into the night.


    ing out to his expensive


    Only once he''s fully out of sight do I remember to breathe.


    With trembling fingers, I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the missed call from Miles. I''m d that Arthur hasn''t discovered Miles'' existence tonight, although that feeling is also edged with a touch of grief.


    If things were different, if Arthur was different, then Miles could know his father.


    But they aren''t. And he isn''t. And Miles will never know him-not if I can help it.


    I quickly redial the number. The babysitter answers after a few rings, which surprises me; Miles always answers when I call. Both my phone and the phone I leave in the house for emergencies have special ringtones for each other, so that we can always know


    precisely when the other is calling.


    "Miles is a little upset," the babysitter says with a sigh. "He thinks you don''t want to talk to him."


    The thought of my little boy thinking such a thing fills my heart with pain. I ask the babysitter to put Miles on the phone, and after some coaxing from both of us, his small voice echoes through the speaker.


    "Mommy? Are you mad at me?"


    "Mad at you?" I almostugh out loud at that notion. "Baby, I could never be mad at you. I was just... busy, that''s all."


    Miles hesitates, then says in a tearful little voice, "With a cherry on top?"


    My heart tightens at our code phrase. Once, when Miles was a little younger, he asked me to ''pinky promise with a cherry on top. It was an identalbination of the phrases "pinky promise'' and ''pretty please with a cherry on top'', but it stuck. And now we


    ery time we want to make sure that the other is telling the whole truth.


    stly, I''m not sure if I can say it. Because I''m not telling the whole truth.


    the smart boy that he is, immediately notices my hesitation. I hear a little sniffle


    and then the sound of footsteps pattering


    he background, and a momentter, the babysitter''s voicees through.


    "He''s just missing you and feeling a little insecure tonight," she says, which makes my eyes mist over with fresh tears. "You know how kids are, though. He''ll wake up in the morning and will have forgotten all about it."


    I tighten my jaw, because the babysitter is wrong. I know Miles, and I know he won''t forget. He never does.


    Before I can answer, a textes in from the Marsiel Gallery. I tell the babysitter to let Miles know I''ll be home as soon as possible, then hang up. The text contains the details on an uing seminar that the gallery is hosting in a few days, which I''ll


    be attending.


    +20 Bonus


    I''m both excited and a little guilty for attending the seminar. I''ve worked so hard for opportunities like this, pulling myself up by


    the bootstraps and working my ass off over the past five years. This seminar will be anotherurel to add to my CV, and I can''t


    wait. But it also means that I''ll have to be without my boy for three more days, a thought that doesn''t exactly fill me with joy.


    Once again, I can''t help but think that if things were different, Miles could be here with me now.


    Suddenly, the front door swings open again. Brian, Liam, Evan, and Emily sweep into the apartment like a tornado, as is


    customary for them. The silence is immediately filled with the sound of chatter andughter.


    "Mommy!" Emily practically screeches when she spots me, still standing beside the front window overlooking the street. "You


    missed our birthday cakes


    "One moment you were there, and then next you were gone," Evan adds.


    Emily furrows her small brow. "I could smell that handsome uncle''s scent. Were you with him? Is he your secret boyfriend?"


    My


    face reddens, and my eyes flick up behind the kids. Liam and Brian are watching me from the doorway, both of them looking more than a little disappointed.


    With a deep breath, I drop to a crouch in front of the kids and ruffle their hair. "I''m sorry I missed your cake," I say gently. "How


    about we make a cake of our own tomorrow? You won''t say no to two days of cake, will you?"


    That seems to satisfy the twins, and a few momentster, Liam whisks them away to get ready for bed. Brian and I are alone


    again. I sink down onto the nearest armchair, knowing I''m about to get an earful


    But I don''t. Not as much as I expect, anyway.


    "It seems Arthur cares about you, if he went to such lengths over a burn," he says


    quietly, ncing at the mark on my thigh. It''s


    really not so bad now, although it still stings.


    I purse my lips, knowing there''s about to be a big but after that statement.


    ¡°But,¡± Brian says, just as I suspected, "he''s engaged, and from what I hear, the wedding is supposed to being up soon. Don''t


    get involved."


    My mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and I''m not sure if I should feel offended or like I''ve just been read like a book.


    Maybe both. Finally, I manage, "I''m not nning on getting involved. Trust me."


    Brian narrows his eyes at me, clearly not buying it. But he doesn''t press further.


    But then, his phone buzzes, and he slips it out of his pocket. I watch as his expression goes from mild annoyance to utter shock, and when he turns to me and holds it out, I feel my stomach drop.


    On the screen are photos of me and Arthur from tonight.


    And the caption reads, "Is this human woman the mistress of the Alpha


    President?"

 Chapter 14

    Iris & Arthur


    +20 Bonus


    Iris


    I should feel angry when I see those pictures. I should feel vited and self-


    righteous at the obvious invasion of my privacy.


    But I don''t. Not really.


    Instead, I just feel... sad.


    Despite everything, I am Arthur''s fated mate. Even now, five yearster, the unshakable bond that grips our most primal urges is


    as strong as it ever was the kissst night and my body''s reaction to Arthur''s proximity tonight have only proven that.


    And yet, no matter what happens, I''m just his mistress. The other woman.


    Arthur knew that, of course, five years ago. He made it abundantly clear when he decided to get publicly engaged to a werewolf


    woman while having his human mistress hidden away at home, conveniently kept from the public eye.


    Because it wouldn''t look good for the Alpha President of Ordan to have a human mate and wife, would it?


    No, it wouldn''t. Ordan is still years behind Bo''Arrocan, and although humans have finally been given all of the same rights as


    werewolves, we''re still seen as ''lesser''. Not even our own fated mates will ever see us as equals. I learned that the hard way five


    years ago.........


    Which is precisely why, right now, I''m d that I left Arthur all those years ago when I found out what he really thought of me. 1 thought he wasn''t like the others, but I was wrong. Even now, he only sees me as a gold digger who he can manipte with


    money.


    Good riddance, I suppose.


    Brian, however, is more furious than I am. "You know what?" he huffs, puffing his chest out and nting his fists on his hips in


    that way he always does when he''s pissed, "I''m going to be attending the Ordan Alpha gathering in a few days. I''m gonna have


    words with that asshole."


    I jolt up from my chair. "Brian, don''t-"


    "No, I''m not gonna sit around and watch this prick ruin all of your hard work," Brian insists, his eyes shing dangerously.


    "You''ve made great strides since you left him, and his selfish actions are overturning it all in the span of a night? I call bullshit."


    I''m not sure how to respond; when Brian has his mind set on something, then it might as well be engraved in stone. But I must


    look panicked, because Brian takes a step forward and softens his tone, cing a hand on my shoulder.


    "Don''t worry, darling. No one will know it''s you. Besides, the paparazzi didn''t even get a clear shot of your face."


    Arthur


    +20 Bonus


    The Ordan annual Alpha gathering is one of the most prestigious events in the city. And 1, as the Alpha President, am at the head


    of it all.


    Normally, I don''t mind these gatherings. It''s really just all fanfare-shaking hands, making toasts, donating to obscure charities


    most people have never heard of beforehand. Selina and I know exactly how to smile and who to rub elbows with, what sort of


    talking points to push and which ones to avoid.


    All in a day''s work for the Alpha President.


    But the event this year is different. Last night, paparazzi photos of Iris and me together sparked online curiosity and outrage, and


    if there''s one ce that people are going to be talking about it, it''s the Alpha gathering.


    I already talked to Selina about it, of course. I told her that I just ''happened'' to run into Iris and assisted her with an injury,


    nothing more. I hoped that would be the end of it, but of course, nothing is ever over with Selina.


    Selina and I aren''t... together in that way. We both understand that our rtionship is for appearances and mutual benefit and


    nothing more.


    But I think she might be a little pissed. Maybe more than a little. She said she wasn''t concerned, but I can almost smell the


    annoyance on her skin.


    "Is it true that you have a human mistress?" someone asks, without a hint of remorse over asking the Alpha President such an


    invasive question.


    Before I can answer, Selina cuts in. Her gloved fingers find my arm, and she grins


    in that show-stopping, radiant way that she


    practices in front of the mirror for an hour before we go out.


    ?" Sheughs and waves her hand as if Iris is nothing more than a fly buzzing around her face, then tucks a


    ir behind one ear. "Yes, well, she tried to seduce my husband. But of course, it


    didn''t work. Our bond is


    it, my love?"


    ÈÕ


    Support


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 Chapter 15

    I bristle at the term of endearment, even more so when Selina lifts up on her


    tiptoes and kisses my cheek. The nearby onlookers


    coo at the public disy of affection, but I feel like retching.


    The moment I''m able, I pull Selina off to the side under the guise of dancing to the orchestral music and lean close to whisper in


    her ear.


    "You promised you wouldn''t make any statements," I mutter, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. To anyone else, it might look like we''re just whispering sweet nothings, when that couldn''t be further from the truth. "That you would brush it off


    as me helping a stranger and nothing more."


    Selina tilts her head, her eyes flickering with something bordering on malicious. "I said I''d consider it. Not that I would."


    I feel my jaw feather with annoyance. But before I can say anything more, a voice cuts through the crowd.


    "Alpha President."


    1 look up to see none other than that Brian fellow striding toward me. His expression is nothing short of thunderous. "You," I say, pulling away from Selina and offering him my best smile. "I''m sorry, I seem to have forgotten your-


    "Don''t act like you don''t know me," he cuts me off. "And don''t act like you''re innocent." He nces at Selina, and his eyes darken just a little more. "Unshakable bond, eh? Is that the lie you''re selling people?"


    My mouth parts. "You must be mistaken."


    Brian scoffs. "I''m not. It''s quite simple, really; you abandoned your fated mate for her." He gestures to Selina, who stiffens beside me. Her smile is stered firmly on her face, but I can feel her hand shaking with rage around my arm.


    And I can see the others standing nearby, watching and whispering in shock.


    "Fated mate?"


    "He left his fated mate for Selina?"


    "I didn''t even know he had one..."!


    "Darling, deal with him," Selina whispers from behind her smile before she gracefully disentangles herself from me and brushes.


    past Brian.


    I know exactly what to do. Without another word, I turn on my heel and leave, Mindlinking my Beta on the way. "Bring him my car," I say curtly. "And make sure he doesn''t cause a scene."


    n out to


    A few minutester, Brian is sliding into the backseat of my car. His eyes are still dark with rage, although I can''t say I necessarily


    me him. Even now, after five years, I still feel protective over Iris. I guess Brian and I are alike on that front.


    He opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand to stop him.


    "You endangered Iris tonight," I say simply. "I hope you''re aware of that.""


    His brow furrows. "Endangered her how?"


    I almostugh out loud. "You''ve just exposed her identity."


    "No one can see her fac


    in the photos. And I never mentioned her name.


    "Is that so


    I scoff. "Check your phone and tell me what you see."


    +20 Bonus


    With a frown, Brian pulls out his phone. As he checks the photographs, I watch with a mixture of disdain and frustration. Before I


    became Alpha President, only a few other Alphas ever saw Iris'' face. Paparazzi had photographed us once during my campaign,


    but it didn''t gain much attention.


    But not anymore. With my current status, it would take mere hours for the public to find out who Iris is-something that I''ve


    been avoiding for more than five years now. It''s been three days already, so the trolls have been given more than enough time.


    And now that Brian gave his little speech, it''ll only take minutes for them to find her.


    Sure enough, Brian huffs out an incredulous sound and hands me his phone. Just as I suspected, there are already inte trolls


    I''m about to give Brian the scolding of a lifetime, but then my eyes snag on a link


    at the bottom of the page: "Abandoned fated


    mate of Alpha President Arthur Daven?"


    My stomach falls into a pit. At the top of the article is a live feed of the front of the Marsiel Gallery. And there, near the doors, I


    can just barely make out Iris.


    She''s surrounded.


    "Take Brian and two bodyguards to the gallery," I instruct the driver as I climb out of the car. "Quickly."


    Brian''s eyes widen. "Wait, where are you-"


    But he doesn''t have time to finish, because I m the door shut and the driver


    peels off toward the gallery without another word


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 Chapter 16

    Iris


    I''ve just pulled up to the gallery when I notice that the lobby is already filling up. It''s surprising, to say the least; all these people aren''t justing for me, are they?


    As an artist, I''ve always kept my identity private-more for Miles'' sake than mine, although I''d be lying if I said it wasn''t also to keep Arthur from finding any information on me if he searched. I use the pseudonym ''Flora'', and I''ve rarely shown my face online. My work might be up anding, but few know anything about the real woman behind it.


    Which is exactly why a crowd of this size takes me aback, especially when I see all of the cameras and notepads.


    Before I can even reach the front doors, someone with a camera spots me andes rushing over, causing the rest of the crowd to follow.


    "Hey, you! You''re the Alpha President''s fated mate, right?!" the person asks, their camera already shing. "What do you have to say about your fated mate, Alpha President Arthur?"


    My eyes widen into saucers as I put two and two together.


    These are journalists who want the next big scoop on the Alpha President''s supposed ''love triangle".


    I''m not sure what to say, not that I really even have much of a chance. Before I know it, I''m being bombarded with questions about my past with Arthur.


    The only g


    The only good thing is night when those


    Still, I ay


    ems as though no one knows the actual story. Some of them ask if Arthur and I only just metst


    ken, and others ask if we''ve known each other for longer.


    trying to push my way back toward the street.


    liar voice cuts through the din. "Move out of the way!"


    muscr men in sleek ck suits and dark sunsses with earpieces in their ears moving toward me. Brian nd his face is as pale as if he''s just seen a ghost.


    he away before I can evenprehend what''s happening, although I''m grateful. The crowd parts for the two rds like warm butter, and within mere moments, I''m sliding into the backseat of an awfully familiar car.


    this... Arthur''s car?" I ask, turning toward Brian with shock written across my face.


    He nods, and he looks just as shocked as I am. Brian exins everything that happened at the Alpha gathering, and as he does, his expression morphs into guilt.


    "I''m sorry, Iris," he says, sping my hands tightly between his own. "I just got so angry, and you know how much I care about you... I should have talked to him in private, not in front of all those people. But then his fiancee said those things about their ''unshakable bond'', and..."


    +20 Bonus


    I swallow hard and pat his hands. "It''s okay, Brian. I can''t me you."


    Brian''s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really?"


    "I don''t think this is your fault," I reply with a nod. "Arthur is a public figure who dragged us all into this mess by yanking me around the other day. I think... I think he''s still trying to cause chaos in my life, even after all these years."


    There''s a brief silence after that. Brian looks like he''s not sure what to say, and my throat suddenly feels a little too constricted to


    speak.


    Truthfully, I feel... helpless. Arthur and I broke up five years ago, and I only came back to Ordan to further my art career. My visit to the city I used to love had nothing to do with him, or at least, it wasn''t supposed to.


    And yet here he is, getting involved, trying to ''win'' his human mistress back with money. And in doing so, he''s impeding on my


    art career.


    But I can''t let him ruin everything. This career is too important to me; so, steeling my resolve, I ask Brian to take me home so t


    can change.


    Brian is a bit surprised, but doesn''t argue. We return to the apartment, where I slip into different, more nondescript clothes: a


    ck turtleneck and a pair of slightly paint-stained white painter''s pants, a far cry from the sleek dress and heels I was wearing


    before. I pull my hair back into a w clip, put on dark red lipstick and ck eyeliner, and my oversized reading sses.


    When I''m finished, I look like a different person. The perfect picture of a slightly messy artist, which is more true to my style anyway. I don''t think anyone will be able to tell that I''m the same person, so long as I take care to avoid getting too close.

 Chapter 17

    And I do just that. When we return to the gallery-in Brian''s car rather than Arthur''s-1 go in the back entrance.


    they''ll keep 1 exin the situation to the gallery staff, who, to my surprise, all express their understanding. They assure me that the my identity confidential, which I appreciate more than they realize. One of the staff even helps me adjust the lighting so that my face is harder to make out


    wing the seminar.


    By the time I step out onto the stage, the crowd is none the wiser. It seems they''vee to the conclusion that the artist "Flora" is not the same person as the woman from the pictures, and the woman who was here before.


    I''m safe. For now, at least. I just need to get through the remainder of this trip and return to Bo''Arrocan, to Miles, before anything else happens.


    With that, I begin my talk, pulling up the slides I prepared. My collection for this show is a series of portraits depicting humans and wolves intertwining. It''s meant to represent bridging the gap between humans and werewolves, baring ourselves in our most primal states-humans in the nude, werewolves in their wolf forms.


    The star piece, whiches up on the second tost slide, portrays a nude human woman embracing a wolf pup. The pup is cradled in her arms like a baby, and is suckling from her breast.


    sa


    It elicits a few gasps and murmurs, which makes me smile. This is the reaction to this piece that I was intending; shock, intrigue,


    and maybe even a hint of disgust.


    "Perhaps some of you are offended by this piece, titled ''Wet Nurse''," I say as I pace the small stage.


    "Perhaps your first instinct is to believe that this human woman ismitting a sin by feeding her breast milk to a wolf pup. Perhaps others believe that the human woman is nothing more than, as the title of the painting implies, a wet nurse for the


    werewolf''s child."


    The crowd murmurs, a few nodding in agreement.


    "But," I continue, "that is not so. This pup is the human woman''s child-the product of a human and a werewolf. And I hope you can look at this piece and see it for what I see: something beautiful and natural. A woman caring for her child.


    "The child is no different from her in her eyes, and the mother is no different in the child''s eyes. The child is the flesh of her


    flesh, the blood of her blood. The mother is the child''s source of life, the hand that feeds, the womb that carried him. Notice how


    he does not bite at her breast with his fangs, but rather suckles calmly. They fully trust one another."


    When I''m finished speaking, the room is momentarily silent before I allow questions. A woman''s hand shoots up at the front, and


    I call on her. I almost wish I hadn''t.


    "Given the nature of your collection, do you have any thoughts on the recent scandal involving the Alpha President and his human fated mate? Do you think it''s immoral for her to get involved with the Alpha President when he''s already engaged to a


    werewolf?"


    +20 Bonus


    I suppress a groan. Of course this woulde up..


    But I manage a smile and say, "I believe that the woman in question may be a victim of a discriminatory culture. Perhaps, instead of scrutinizing the woman''s choices, we should focus on the root cause of the issue."


    The reporter tilts her head. "Can you please rify what you mean by the ''root cause"?"


    "Well," I say, "it''s no secret that equality between humans and werewolves has long been a point of contention. Perhaps issues like that of the Alpha President and his alleged fated mate wouldn''te up if we weren''t living in a society that subscribes to such an antiquated social hierarchy."


    "Do you believe that the Alpha President also views humans as lesser?" another reporter abruptly cuts in. "And that it is his inaction as a leader that has stagnated our social progress?"


    I don''t even hesitate. "Yes," I reply firmly, my lip curling bitterly. "Yes, I do believe that."


    The crowd murmurs, reporters jotting down notes and audience members ncing at one another. But they''re not disagreeing


    with me. Not yet, anyway.


    After the seminar, I''m leaving the gallery when the curator suddenly runs up to


    me. "Iris," she says, grabbing my arm with a


    grin. "That was fantastic."


    I blush a little. ¡°I hope my statement at the end wasn''t too inmmatory,"


    You''re


    The curator shakes her head firmly. "No. If anything, we''re all impressed by your boldness, coing to make some big

 Chapter 18

    The curator shakes her head firmly. "No. If anything, we''re all impressed by your


    boldness, coing to make some big


    waves, Iris. Just you wait and see."


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    Tris


    +20 Bonus


    The curator was right.


    Over the days since my seminar, it seems that my ''mysterious'' identity as ''Flora the artist'' has drawn even more interest in my work than ever. My collection is being talked about all over online forums, with local Ordan critics writing articles on the


    symbolism.


    And then, of course, there were my... ''bold'' statements.


    Truthfully, when I said those things about Arthur and his views on equality during the seminar, they just sort of... came out. It''s not that I didn''t mean what I said-I really do think that Arthur has done pretty much nothing when ites to increasing


    equality in Ordan over his five years as Alpha President-it''s just that I never expected myself to say them.


    Especially not with so much passion.


    But maybe it''s time. Arthur used toy in bed with me and talkte into the night about his hopes for the future of this city, how he wanted nothing more than a world that was no longer divided between humans and werewolves but rather united.


    Too bad that was all a lie. A lie just to keep me, his human mistress, around for just a little while longer to sate his needs. Until he


    could find a more suitable woman to be his Luna, of course. A werewolf woman.


    Still, I try not to dwell on it too much. Right now, I''m more consumed by my art career. The value of my art has shot up more in


    the past few days than it has in years, and I''ve already been receiving calls and emails from interested buyers.


    One offer in particr catches my eye. Someone is interested in purchasing ''Wet Nurse'', the star piece from my collection. And


    whoever it is must be high-profile, because the email I receive is from an


    assistant and not the actual buyer.


    I happily agree to meet the potential buyer at the gallery, then get dressed and head out. I don''t bother with my disguise today,


    since I''ll be meeting the buyer alone. Rather, I opt for a smart pair of trousers and


    a button-down shirt, wanting to look as


    professional as possible but also low key.


    When I


    I arrive at the gallery, I head in the back door after having learned my lesson the other night-I don''t want to be seen by any lingering journalists.


    Although most of the recent buzz surrounding my involvement with Arthur has subsided, Arthur and Selina are still under intense scrutiny, so it''s best toy low until I head back to Bo''Arrocan


    I''m just turning theer to the back entrance when I see her.


    She''s wearing dark cat eye sunsses and a silk scarf to cover her bleached blonde hair, but I would recognize Selina anywhere. Her face seared itself into my memory five years ago, and nothing I''ve done since then has been able to get it out.


    I''ve tried therapy, meditation, even the more unconventional methods (at Brian''s suggestion) like energy healing and sound.


    +20 Bonus


    baths.


    Nothing has worked. Selina''s smirking face, her eyes glittering with malice, haunts my dreams on a regr basis. So when I see her now, it''s only natural that I stop in my tracks, my hand fluttering up to touch the locket around my throat.


    She sees me, too. Her mouth tugs up into that smirk that I know too well the moment she spots me, and she straightens, adjusting her designer purse on her shoulder. She''s with a sandy-haired man that I vaguely recognize, although I can''t quite put


    my finger on it.


    He seems to recognize me as well, his eyebrows shooting up.


    "Well, well. Long time no see," Selina says. "Hello. Iris, was it?"

 Chapter 19

    I want to tell her to shove her greeting where the sun doesn''t shine, but instead, I pull my shoulders back and stride past her. ¡°You''re visiting the gallery?" I ask.


    She nods and follows me inside with the man on her heels. Unfortunately it would be unbing of me to shove the future Luna of Ordan out on her ass, so I have to let here in. Although I don''t bother holding the door for her.


    "I''m here to purchase some artwork," she says, her heels clicking on the tile floors.


    She pulls her sunsses off once we''re safely inside, and her eyes-gray and cold, like the kind of dirty ice that forms along the


    side of the road toward the end of winter-flick over me. "You must work here."


    I want to tell her that I''m an artist myself, but I don''t think it would make a difference. Not that it matters if I had anything to say anyway, because she goes on, "I could really use some coffee before I meet with the artist. They''re a big name in the art world, you know, and I feel a little drowsy after ate night rubbing elbows with the city''s elite. Not something you''d understand, I''m


    sure."


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    I stare at her, not really sure what her hangover has to do with me.


    My hesitance seems to make Selina bristle. "Well?" she asks, snapping her fingers-snapping them. "Be a dear and fetch some coffee for the future Luna of Ordan, will you?¡±


    The man goes to say something, but I shake my head and ster a smile on my face. Despite what I really want to say to Selina, she is an authority figure in this city, where I just so happen to be building a reputation as an artist. I don''t need more bad press right now.


    Without another word, I head over to the nearby coffee bar and begin to pour a cup. The coffee must be freshly made, because the dark liquid steams as I prepare it. Behind me, Selina daintily sits at the table and crosses her legs, checking her watch rather impatiently.


    "So," Selina says, tapping her foot, "Iris, what is your position here at the gallery? Docent?"


    I bristle a little as I return with her coffee. "I''m an artist," I reply calmly.


    Selina nces up at me, and for a moment, I''m not sure if she believes me. Finally, she retorts, "Ah. I did hear that the gallery provides free arts and crafts sses for kindergarteners on the weekends."


    My lips pinch together and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from retorting before I''ve had a chance to truly consider my words. The coffee cup is still held between us, the hot liquid scalding my hand slightly through the cardboard.


    Selina doesn''t take it, but rather flicks her eyes to the empty space on the table. "Set it there. And add some cream and sugar, will you?"


    That''s about the end of my rope. Selina is treating me like a waitress, expecting me to not only brew coffee for her, but to also set it in front of her and prepare it to her liking.


    "For the record," I say bitterly, moving to set it down, "I don''t teach the kindergarteners. I''m the star artist of the month."


    Selina snorts. "Flora? Oh, please. You couldn''t hold a candle to her talent. In fact, I''m purchasing one of her paintings today. We''re going to ask her to endorse us publicly, too, in the light of the controversy that you caused. She''ll ept a tidy sum from us. Something you should have done years ago instead of causing trouble."


    Her words make my hand jerk in surprise-not because of the insult, but because of the implication. She''s the buyer I''ve been so excited to meet?


    Without entirely meaning to, I tip the cup a little in my haste to set it down, sending hot coffee sshing onto Selina''s priceless heels. She jumps up with a screech, doing a little dance to get the coffee off. I don''t feel very bad for doing it, even if it was just an ident.


    "You little human bitch!" she shrieks, raising her hand as if to p me.


    +20 Bonus


    Ibrace myself for the p, but it neveres. The man she''s with has just made a sound, a low rumble in his throat-a warning


    That''s when it hits me: this is Arthur''s Beta. I''ve only seen him in pictures since our breakup five years ago.


    Selina stiffens, quickly lowering her hand and smoothing down her shirt. A smile is immediately stered across her face, and I


    realize that it''s only because the door behind me has swung open and the gallery curator hase in.


    "Oh, I''m so d you came," Selina says, hurrying over to the curator. She points at me. "Your employee has just spilled coffee on


    me."


    The curator nces at me, then at Selina. "You mean Iris? She''s not an employee, Miss. She''s our star artist. The one you


    scheduled to meet."


    Selina''s face goes pale as she turns to me. I feel a smug sense of righteousnessing on when I see the realization dawn on her, but most of all, I just feel angry-angry that a prejudiced woman like Selina would try to buy my star painting, which is steeped in


    symbolism


    Not only that, but she wants me to back them in public? Fat chance of that happening.


    And I''m going to make sure she knows just what I think.


    With a deep breath, I lift my chin and say, "Miss Selina, let me make myself


    perfectly clear: I will not sell my painting to you, will I endorse you. No amount of money in the world will make me do either of those things."


    §±§à§Ô


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 Chapter 20

    Iris


    +20 Bonus


    Selina just stands there in stunned silence for several long moments, and I''m not entirely sure if she''s enraged or embarrassed. Likely both. Without another word, she huffs angrily and storms out of the gallery, leaving Arthur''s Beta still standing there.


    I expect him to turn and follow his mistress out of the gallery, but he doesn''t. Rather, he lingers just a moment longer.


    "So it''s true. You really have be a sessful artist," he says. "Alpha Arthur has been in a poor state for a very long time, you know. He misses you. Deeply."


    "I don''t want to hear it," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "Whether Arthur misses me or not isn''t my concern. And even if he


    does miss me for some reason, he''s set up to have the perfect, happy little family that will make the masses swoon. He doe


    need me."


    And I mean it when I say that, truly. If anything, I just feel as though my life has been nothing but one troublesome moment after


    another since I returned to Ordan, all because of Arthur.


    I just want to go home. To Bo''Arrocan. To Miles.


    The Beta sighs and shakes his head. He turns toward the door that Selina disappeared through, moving to follow her, but stops short. When he nces at me over his shoulder, something in his gaze makes my breath catch, but I''m not entirely sure what it is


    or why.


    "You don''t have to be so self-righteous, you know,¡± he says. ¡°After all, you''re the one who left Arthur for personal gain. Not the


    other way around."


    And with that, he leaves.


    I''m left silent in his wake, not entirely sure of what to make of that parting statement. I''m the one who left Arthur for personal gain? I left to survive. I left to save my dignity. I left to give my son a life full of love and joy, not one with a father who would


    never truly see him as his own.


    Who would only ever see me as the human wet nurse.


    tet mot to me. I don''t know Arthur''s Beta personally, and he doesn''t know me. He likely only heard what


    Even so, I decide not to


    he just said through the grapevine, which means that it''s pointless to dwell on it.


    Later, I''m set up on the balcony at the apartment, my portable easel and a fresh canvas in front of me. I''ve been staring at the nk canvas for nearly an hour now, and it still doesn''t have a mark on it. My paints have long since dried up.


    Truthfully, I can''t seem to find inspiration today. I figure I''m just tired from everything going on, that I''m missing home. But


    deep down, I think it''s more than that.


    At that moment, the sound of my phone buzzing pulls me out of my reverie. I push my wide-brimmed sun hat back and check the


    1/21


    +20 Bonus


    screen, finding an email from the gallery curator.


    "Iris, it''s with a heavy heart that I say this," the email reads, "but as of right now, your exhibition is suspended and the gallery


    be closed for three days. We received a formal notice that unless your art is removed from our premises, the entire gallery will


    be shut down. I''m sorry."


    The moment I read the email, my blood begins to boil. Who else would do this if not for Arthur? No doubt he''s pissed that I stood up to Selina and refused to endorse them publicly, and now he''s throwing a temper tantrum.


    Without hesitating, I grab my yellow sweater with the hole in it and throw it on over my painter''s overalls as I storm out. It


    doesn''t take me long to get to Arthur''s office.


    "I need to see Arthur," I demand, breathless, as I storm up to the receptionist''s desk.


    The secretary nces up from behind hisputer, his eyes flicking across my appearance. I''m well aware that I look like a bat


    out of hell, wearing my stained overalls with my hair mussed from hurrying acro

 Chapter 21

    hurrying across the city. But I don''t care.


    "Anyone who wishes to see the Alpha President must have an appointment," the secretary says slowly, as if speaking to a child.


    "And I''m afraid he books out quite far, so..."


    I m my hands against the desk, making the receptionist jolt in his chair. "Tell him that Iris is here."


    The receptionist hesitates, but when he sees my furious expression, heplies and dials Arthur''s extension on the phone. To my surprise, he hangs up after a moment and stands.


    "Right this way, Miss Iris."


    I follow the receptionist through the sleek halls of Arthur''s office building, trying not


    to stare. The entire ce is gleaming white with floor-to-ceiling windows, frosted ss doors leading into packed conference rooms.


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    The receptionist leads me over a sky bridge with a lobby below, where trickling fountains spray cool mist into the air. This ce Is... nice. Really nice.


    I always knew that the Alpha President''s headquarters was astonishing, but being here in person is like a p in the face. While Arthur and I had a nice home before with plenty of space, and he could afford plenty with his family''s wealth, he was still humble.


    He always said that even without money and nice things, he would be happy as long as he had m


    "No wonder he''s changed," I think as I follow the receptionist. But then I purse my lips and think, "No, he''s always been like this. He was just a good liar before."


    Before I know it, I''m being ushered into arge, gleaming corner office overlooking the city. Arthur is sitting behind a clean ss


    desk, wearing a ck suit with his dark hair perfectly swept back. His green eyes flick up when I approach, but to my surprise, he


    doesn''t mock me foring or even mention my slightly haggard appearance. "Iris," he says, "to what do I owe the-"


    "I know what you did," I grind out, jabbing my finger in his face. "Seriously, Arthur? You tried to have my artwork removed from Marsiel just because I wouldn''t endorse you and your shrew of a fiancee? Who do you even think you are?"


    "The Alpha President of Ordan," he replies calmly. I suddenly feel stupid for asking, although I''m still pissed. He gestures to the


    chair opposite his desk. "Iris, sit."


    I hesitate, but finally plop down. "You didn''t have to go that far," I hiss through clenched teeth.


    But to my shock, Arthur looks utterly confused when I look up at him through myshes.


    "Iris, I have no idea what you''re talking about."


    "But you-"


    "Iris." Arthur levels me with a stern re that gives me pause. His expression is nk, as if I just came in here and told him that the sky is purple. I know he''s not lying now.


    "If you didn''t, then who did?" I ask, throwing my hands up in the air. "Because someone ordered the gallery to either remove my work or shut downpletely, and I can''t think of anyone but you who would have enough authority to do that."


    Arthur nods and rises, buttoning his suit jacket. I hate the way his broad shoulders straining against the deep blue fabric makes my cheeks flush, and I quickly look away. "I''ll look into this," he says. "Wait here."


    Before I can protest, Arthur leaves. I sigh and sink down into the chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. A couple minutester, something steamy and fragrant is shoved in front of me, and I open my eyes to find the Beta holding out a cup of coffee.


    "Alpha Arthur said you might like this," he says.


    I sheepishly take the coffee, thanking him. The coffee is sweet and almost choctey, just the way I like it. In fact, the taste is so


    familiar that it makes my cheeks flush as old memories rise up.


    +20 Bonus


    Back when Arthur was campaigning, he rented out an office to work in so he wouldn''t have to clutter the house with paperwork. I used to visit him there, bring him homemade meals when he was overworking himself.


    When I found out that he was constantly buying takeout coffee, I bought a little coffee maker and splurged on these exact coffee beans, and I would brew us each a cup whenever I visited. We would sip coffee and talk all night.


    never g


    Even now, I can still see him in that office, his white shirt sleeves pushed up to the elbows and that one pesky curl that he could


    quite tame¡ªalthough now he seems to always have it perfectly slicked back- falling across his forehead. I can still see the stubble lining his jaw, can still hear his rough voice as he would pace the office and read me his speeches.


    Back then, I was more than just his lover, I was his partner, his right hand. I was the woman who would stay up with him and help.


    him refine his speeches, give him pep talks when he needed them, listen to his worries and hold his hand and tell him that


    everything would be okay.


    That he would make a great Alpha President.


    That we would be great together.


    But it was all just an illusion, wasn''t it? And now, this coffee tastes

 Chapter 22

    But it was all just an illusion, wasn''t it? And now, this coffee tastes a lot more bitter than I remember, and his curl is gone and his face is always perfectly shaven and perfectly emotionless.


    Suddenly, the sound of the door opening pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to see Arthur returning.


    "It was Selina," he says, his voice low and rough. "And Caleb."


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    Iris & Arthur


    Tris


    +20 Bonus


    "Who is Caleb?"


    Arthur sighs.


    "He''s Selina''s brother." he says sinkin


    brother," he says, sinking down into his chair. He looks more we


    weary than he did a little while ago.


    I''m not surprised by that tidbit of information, though. Whoever Caleb is, he sounds as if he''s certainly in a position of power. If


    not in title, then at least in influence, being Arthur''s fiancee''s brother and all.


    "Don''t worry. I''ll handle it," Arthur suddenly says with a wave of his hand. "You don''t need to do anything."


    It seems like he''s dismissing me, so I rise from my seat. Arthur''s green eyes follow me. But then he says, "Just so you know, it


    may take some time."


    "How much time?"


    "A few days, at least," Arthur replies. "Caleb isn''t just Selina''s brother-he''s the supreme judge of Ordan."


    I furrow my brow, considering. The supreme court of Ordan basically has more authority in thew than even the Alpha


    President. I find myself wondering for a moment how Arthur came to get engaged to the sister of the judge, but I quickly stop


    myself.


    With a curt nod, I simply say, "I trust you to handle it properly."


    I don''t wait for a response. I turn on my heel and leave, and once I''m back on the crowded city street, I pull out my phone and send a quick email to the gallery curator to inform her of the news. Once I''m finished, I slip my phone back into my pocket.


    Well, at least one good thing hase out of this. With the gallery shut down until this is handled, I won''t have too much to do


    here in Ordan.


    I think I''ll go home to visit Miles until it all blows over.


    Arthur


    I''m still in shock that Iris came to my office to confront me. It''s already enough that


    I just found out that Iris is the up and


    True to my word, I go straight to Caleb''s office to speak with him. It''s an effort to contain my anger as I stride into the space.


    Caleb, as the supreme judge of Ordan, technically has more administrative power than the Alpha President. Everyw set in


    motion has to go through the judge and his court. The president can veto the court''s decisions, but it''s not simple.


    +20 Bonus


    Of course, I don''t have an issue with this. This system of checks and bnces was implemented into our country over a hundred


    years ago as a way to keep the Alpha President from bing a tyrant.


    As for Caleb, he''s a capable and intelligent man, but Selina has him wrapped around her little finger. She''s almost twenty years


    younger than he is, and he still views her as his precious little sister.


    "Caleb, this is ridiculous and you know it," I say, my knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of his mahogany desk so hard. "Selina can''t just have you shut down a whole art gallery-one of the pirs of ourmunity, mind you-because she got pissed at an artist."


    Caleb, a man in his forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a neat beard, leans back in his chair and pushes his wire-rimmed sses up on his nose. If it weren''t for their matching gray eyes, I''d hardly think that Caleb and Selina are siblings at all.


    "You must understand, Arthur," he returns, "that I must handle these matters ordingly when ites to my sister being


    wronged. She is the future Luna of Ordan, after all. What sort of a precedent would it set if I let a nobody like Iris walk all over her?


    A human, no less?"


    His tone makes me bristle, but I try not to focus on the racism. "Iris didn''t do anything wrong. She just refused to sell her painting to Selina. Surely you don''t actually think this warrants shutting down an entire gallery."


    Caleb merely shrugs. "The gallery had the chance to remove Iris'' artwork from their walls. But they didn''t, and now they''re


    facing the consequences."


    "Perhaps they were the ones who did the right thing," I mutter bitterly.


    Caleb seems to stiffen a little at that, but maintains his calm and poised expression. "Arthur, I understand your struggle," he


    finally says with a sigh. "You still wish to be entangled with Iris, your fated mate.


    It''s a perfectly natural feeling. But when it''s at


    my sister''s expense, I can''t stand for it."


    My jaw clenches of its own ord. Caleb is well aware of the situation between


    me, Iris, and Selina; he knows howplicated it


    is, how my bond with Iris is utterly irresistible and how my marriage to his sister is simply for show-a transaction and nothing


    more.

 Chapter 23

    hapter 23


    However, over thest five years, it feels as if Caleb and Selina and their entire family seem to have lost the memo somewhere


    along the way.


    I lean forward, pushing my fingers into the surface of the desk. "Caleb, this is aplete abuse of power. Regardless of my bond with my fated mate, you can''t just shut down a gallery over something as petty as this. You have to allow the gallery to reopen, or you''re going to have trouble."


    Caleb''s eyes flick over me, and he tilts his head in that way that Selina often does. "And what if I say no?"


    I feel like I''m going to be sick. Caleb has never outwardly shown that he believes he''s above me in the hierarchical structure, but


    I''m not entirely surprised. A low noise rumbles in my throat. "I am the Alpha President of Ordan," I hiss. "Lift the suspension."


    With that, I turn and walk out.


    "Don''t abandon a perfectly good situation with a good family for the human girl," Caleb''s voice calls after me as I storm out. "It


    wouldn''t be prudent for you, Arthur."


    I don''t stop or even indicate that I''ve heard him.


    Later, once the sky is dark and I''ve returned to my penthouse for the night, I''m leaning over the balcony with a ss of whiskey


    in my hand. The streets of Ordan are lively as ever below, but I feel disconnected from it all. I always do.


    Without Iris by my side, Ordan feels hollow. Meaningless. Sure, I love this city and care for all of the citizens as if they were my


    own children, but my heart isn''t in it anymore.


    Five years ago, I might have had the chance to turn around and see Iris painting at her easel, humming to herself. She always


    smiled when she worked, whether she realized it or not. She was so confident. Beautiful. Shining like the moon in the sky.


    I never doubted that she would be a famous artist, but it doesn''t mean that I wasn''t surprised when I saw her seminar on the


    inte earlier today. She spoke so eloquently, and her work truly was


    phenomenal. I would have purchased a piece just for


    myself, if only things were different. But I do have one piece of hers.


    Sighing, I move back inside, pausing in front of the firece. There''s a painting hanging over the mantle, depicting... me. In my


    wolf form. The eyes are the most striking green I''ve ever seen, perhaps more striking even than when they glow in real life. To


    this day, I''m still not sure how she managed to make the color pop so much.


    When Iris left, she left almost all of her things behind. I got rid of a lot out of anger, but I couldn''t bring myself to get rid of this


    one.


    Not because it''s a painting of me-I''m not that narcissistic-but because, if I shut my eyes, I can still recall the night she painted


    1. it.


    The smile on her face as I shifted and rested my head on her soft thigh. The way her fingers curled through my fur as she carefully


    painted every detail. The way she stuck her tongue out in concentration.


    +20 Bonus


    I''d be the first to admit that Iris deserves everything she''s gotten in her art career. She''s a damn good artist, and speaks incredibly well. She never needed to depend on others to get ahead-she had all the makings of a famous artist on her


    own.


    But why, then, did she leave me for money five years ago? It doesn''t make sense. Before I can finish that thought, my Beta Mindlinks me.


    "Alpha, I''ve contacted the Marsiel Gallery about a second exhibition-They say they''d love to have Iris'' work shown there for a


    solo show."


    I can''t help but smile a little. I''ve decided that, as an apology gift, I''d ensure Iris an artist residency at Marsiel. I hope it''ll smooth over some of the nonsense with Caleb and Selina, as well as further her art career. It might help the gallery too, after being wrongfully shut down.


    "Excellent," I reply. "When can they give her the contract?"


    "They said they contacted her, but she returned to Bo''Arrocan. I guess they''re going to meet in a few days when shees back


    to Ordan."


    That gives me pause. Why would Iris return to Bo''Arrocan so soon, and only for a few days?


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 Chapter 24

    Iris


    I realize I haven''t felt genuine joy in days once I step into my cozy apartment back in Bo''Arrocan and hear the sound of Miles'' tiny voice. Hees barreling into the foyer, his dark hair flopping into his bright green eyes, and quite literallyunches himself


    into my arms.


    "Mommy, you''re back!" he cries, burying his face in my neck. "I didn''t know you wereing back!"


    I grin and kiss his little face all over. "I wanted to surprise you, little wolf. Are you surprised?"


    "I''m so so so so so surprised!" he beams.


    Looking up, I see the babysitter standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. There''s a wooden spoon covered in tomato sauce in her hand, evidence of dinner almost being ready. Scooping Miles up into my arms, I exin why I''ve returned on a whim


    while Miles chatters endlessly about his days without me.


    "I really missed you, Mommy," Miles says, leaning his head on my shoulder as we all sit down for dinner around the small kitchen table. "Look, I even colored you a whole bunch of pictures."


    With a flourish, he pulls a stack of papers out and hands them to me. "My little artist," I grin, ruffling his hair. I can''t wait to put them up where I can see them. Everyst one of them.


    "He really did," the babysitter says softly. "He cried allst night."


    Miles'' eyes widen. "Did not! I was a big boy!"


    I chuckle and tug him closer, kissing the top of his head. "Well, I''m here now, little wolf. Don''t you worry."


    But with the happiness ofing home alsoes the bittersweet feeling. Because it''s not long before I''m getting a call from Marsiel, and they''re telling me how they''re reopening. Apparently they also have some ''amazing news'' for me, news that the


    curator only wants to tell me in person.


    The


    next morning, I have to hold back tears as I exin that I''m returning to Ordan. Miles bawls his eyes out and clutches my leg


    like his life depends on it.


    "Please let mee with you, Mommy! I''ve missed you so much!"


    It breaks my heart to have to pry his little hands away. And although he


    understands that I''ll be home for good in just a few more days, there''s no drying the tears streaming down his cheeks.


    Am I a bad mother? All I want is to protect Miles from having to meet Arthur in Ordan, and yet it feels like leaving him behind is


    doing more harm than good.


    By sunset, the ne is touching down once more in Ordan. I''m eager for the news that the gallery has for me, but also eager to


    finish my work and return to Miles.


    For good this time.


    +20 Bonus


    "As you can see, your exhibition has reopened," the curator says with a grin as she swings open therge double-doors leading to


    the solo exhibit area.


    I furrow my brow as I step into the space. Previously, my work was hung in themunal exhibit area, but now it''s in here. When


    I nce at the curator in confusion, she beams.


    "Well? Do you like it?"


    I''m not sure what to say as I take in my paintings lining therge, pristine white walls with the sun streaming in through therge ss roof. The solo exhibition space is warmly lit and vast, and my work looks even more phenomenal in here. But I''m


    confused.


    "Why?" I blurt out.


    The curator giggles and ces her arm around my shoulders, leading me around the space. "An anonymous investor wanted your work to be shown in a solo exhibit. But that''s not all Here." She pulls out a packet of papers and hands it to me.


    Furrowing my brow, I take the papers and flip through them. It''s a contract-the investor wants to be my patron, essentially giving me arge sum of money to keep producing artwork here in Ordan.

 Chapter 25

    I turn to Brian, who''s lingering nearby, and hand him the contract. He takes a look


    at it. "This is... huge," he says, his eyes wide as


    he nces up at me. "This is, like, every artist''s dream."


    He''s right, too. To have a patron basically means that you''ve made it as an artist. To be given money just to create your work and show it around various galleries... It''s something that I''ve been dreaming about for years.


    "Who is the anonymous investor?" I ask, turning to the curator.


    But she shakes her head. "Unfortunately, they asked to remain nameless," she exins. "Officially, the contract is handled through us-the Marsiel Gallery. We''ll handle everything; the funds, the gallery tours, events, that sort of thing. You''ll technically be our resident artist, but your residency will be funded by an outside investor."


    I blink at her, a bit taken aback by all of it. The curator leaves me and Brian to discuss the contract.


    "It''s an official contract," Brian says once we''re alone, scratching his head. I know that much, of course; the Marsiel Gallery is


    trustworthy, and I know they wouldn''t ept an outside investor if it was a bad deal.


    "Still," I say, chewing my lip hesitantly. "This would mean that I''d have to spend a lot more time here in Ordan. I''d need to


    attend gallery tours, openings, seminars..."


    200


    I shake my head. The thought of leaving Miles frequently breaks my heart all over again. And besides, what sort of image would that create for him? Sure, my career would be booming, but he would rarely get to see me. I''d rather be the mother that my son


    needs rather than an overnight art sensation.


    Brian, sensing my thoughts, sighs and grips my shoulder with one hand. "Iris, look at me."


    I lift my gaze, and I''m met with his stern stare. "What?" I mutter.


    "Iris, this is an amazing opportunity," he says, waving the contract in my face with one hand. "You have to say yes."


    "But Miles....


    "Bring him here," he cuts in


    My eyes widen, and I take a step back, shaking my head again. "No. No, I can''t. If Arthur-"


    "Arthur isn''t an idiot," Brian says quickly. "With the rumors about you two, he needs to keep his distance. And since


    you


    refused


    to endorse him and Selina, you''ll have even less of a reason to run into each other. Besides, it doesn''t have to be forever-just long enough to see this artist residency through."


    I purse my lips and consider the options. Brian is right; this is a huge opportunity. One that I''d be stupid to say no to. If I''m careful, I could do this and ensure Miles'' safety.


    "Come on, Iris," Brian urges me. "This is what you''ve been working your ass off for. Five years of blood, sweat, and tears. Are you really going to let one man ruin all of it for you? You love this city, and there are far more opportunities here than Bo''Arrocan.


    Maybe it''s time you came back and made a new name for yourself,"


    I hate to admit it, but Brian is right.


    1 spend all of that night thinking about the proposition, so much so that I don''t even manage to get any sleep. Maybe I''m


    delirious by the time the sun rises, but it doesn''t matter. I''ve made my decision.


    nas 1


    I find Brian at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. He nces up as I enter, his eyebrows shooting upward as he takes in my


    sleep-deprived appearance, but doesn''t say anything about it.


    "Well?" he asks as he pushes a cup of coffee toward me. "Have you made your decision?"


    Nodding, I reply, "Yes, I''m going to bring Miles to Ordan, and I''m going to sign the contract."


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    272


    201

 Chapter 26

    201


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    I didn''t think I would feel this way, but after deciding to move Miles to Ordan with me, I suddenly feel a new sense of cheer wash over me. Maybe I''m going back to a city filled with old memories, but the promise of new opportunities, a new life, is enough to


    soften some of the bad things.


    Right away, I start handling my affairs. Over the following days, I hunt down a living situation, finally settling on a sweet little


    loft apartment in one of the historic buildings overlooking the arts quarter.


    The apartment has high ceilings andrge windows, perfect for painting, I can already picture Miles running around the open. concept floorn, and therge round window at the front of the apartment overlooking the street below will be a perfect spot


    for a little reading nook for him.


    The floors are hardwood and creak ever so slightly when you move across them, and the whole space smells like new memories


    waiting to be made.


    After signing the lease-thendlord is more than happy to rent out a space to the up anding artist ''Flora"-I purchase a ne ticket for Miles and get to work purchasing the necessities for the apartment.


    "I''ll buy you a sofa," Brian says, checking over the list I''ve made. "A nice big sectional for you and Miles to y on."


    My cheeks tinge a slight shade of pink. "You don''t have to do that, Brian."


    300


    He nces up at me in that stern yet yful way of his. "Yes, I do. It''s the least I could do. Besides, Liam and the twins and I will


    being over all the time, so I want to make sure it''s nice andfortable in here."


    I can''t argue with that, of course. After telling Miles about the big move, which excites him greatly and gives him something to look forward to, Brian, Liam and I get to work putting together furniture and situating the apartment.


    Soon enough, the apartment is livable. A little empty as of right now, but cozy. The sofa is positioned right in front of the old stone firece, and I''ve set up a painting area in the corner overlooking the street below. I spread out a small rug and somefy kid-sized chairs in Miles'' reading nook, and set up a bunk bed with an extra pull-out bed in his bedroom.


    The bunk bed was Liam''s idea, and another gift from the two of them. They said it was so that the twins and Miles could have sleepovers, but I think they just want to spoil Miles. Again, I can''t argue with that.


    However, the apartment isn''t quite ready. Thendlord needs to finalize some things before we can officially move in, so I leave the essentials at Brian and Liam''s apartment, nning to stay with them temporarily until the move in date.


    Finally, the day of my flight back to Bo''Arrocanes. I''m going to fly home in the afternoon, then stay a few days to get some things in order before flying back to Ordan with Miles. But first, I have to attend a meeting at the art gallery in the morning.


    I head to the gallery, my face hurting from how much I''ve been smilingtely. The agent who has been sent to help finalize my patronage contract is already waiting for me. She''s a portly older woman with gray hair cut into a neat pixie style, and her


    -20 Bonus


    expression gives off a no-nonsense air..


    But there''s something else about her, too. The way she looks at me seems almost surprised, and then it hits me: I''m not wearing my ''Flora'' disguise.


    "You must be the artist," she says, shaking my hand. "My name is Deborah. I''ll be helping you finalize your contract today."


    We sit down in the back of the art gallery, where she spreads out the papers between us. She nces at me for a moment, then says almost tentatively, "Is it true that you''re the Alpha President''s fated mate?"


    My stomach clenches. I guess I figured it woulde to this, because I''m not going to wear my disguise everywhere I go. But it doesn''t make the constant reminders hurt any less.


    Not wanting to lie, I nod. "Yes, I''m his fated mate, But we''re not together."


    The woman looks me up and down, and for a moment, I sense that she isn''t fully buying it. But finally, she lets it go. With that, she points to the first page of the contract.


    "Here you''ll find the initial stiptions of your residency," she says. "Your patron wishes you to remain in Ordan for a timeframe of one year, during which you are free to produce however much or little art you wish. The patron''s only stiption is that you hold an exhibition at the end of the period."


    I nod, leaning in to study the contract. All of the uses are pretty standard- Marsiel Gallery requests t that I participate in one seminar per month, and that I share ten percent of my earnings from any art I sell during the exhibition at the end of the year with the gallery. I''ll also be taking part in one press tour during the year, traveling to various galleries and venues around the city as the gallery''s ambassador.


    But it''s the final use that catches my attention.


    "Does the patron really mean this?" I ask, pointing. "It says that I don''t need to share any earnings with my patron. I don''t even have to give them a painting at the end as a gift."


    The woman narrows her eyes slightly. "Do you not know who your patron is?"


    I shake my head, recalling how the curator had mentioned that the patron wished


    to remain anonymous. This woman must know who he or she is, though, because she opens her mouth as if to say a name before she shuts it again, clearly thinking better of it.


    "Ahem." She clears her throat. "Well, yes. The patron does not request any gifts ormissions. They only wish to see you make


    art."


    I find that a little odd, considering the nature of most artist patronages. But I''m notining, that''s for certain.


    With everything settled, all that''s left is to sign the contract. But I can''t just yet. "I have to fly back to Bo''Arrocan to handle some personal matters," I exin. "But once I get back, I''d like to sign the contract."


    The woman looks a little surprised. "Oh. Do you have a family there?" she asks.


    Her question, again, strikes me as odd. But my body instinctively reacts to the intrusion, causing my cheeks to flush-something


    that I''ve never entirely been able to grow out of, and Arthur always said it was a telltale sign that I was hiding something


    Figuring there''s no point in lying now, I nod. "Yes, I do," I say. "I have a child there."


    The woman opens her mouth to respond, but then her eyes shift over my shoulder. Her expression quickly morphs into


    something else, something that I can''t quite read. I follow her gaze and turn, and that''s when I see him.


    Arthur.


    He''s standing in the doorway, and his face is dark with anger.


    20 Bonus

 Chapter 27

    Once I learned that Iris actually agreed to the patronage, I decided to go to the gallery to tell her that it was my gift as an apology for everything that Selina and her brother did.


    de her


    I never intended to keep her in the dark for the entire year; I just didn''t want her to know that I was her patron until she made decision, because I know she would say no just to spite me if she knew it was me. She said yes, and now I want to tell her the truth, in the spirit of transparency.


    Otherwise, I wouldn''t be here now. There''s no use in me continuing to initiate contact with Iris if she''s just going to be giving me


    the cold shoulder. This patronage is an apology gift and nothing more.


    But then, just as I''m about to walk into the conference room, I overhear the conversation between Iris and mywyer.


    "I have to fly back to Bo''Arrocan to handle some personal matters...¡±


    "Oh. Do you have a family there?"


    Iris pauses, and then her next words nearly make me drop my coffee all over the floor.


    "Yes. I have a child there."


    I feel like I''m going to be sick. A child? A family? I thought that Iris was single after all these years, that she never had a baby. But


    now...


    That can''t be my baby. It''s impossible; I was told that she aborted the child. Which could only mean one thing; she did have a


    child with another man after all.


    Will she be bringing her family here during the patronage? Will my investment go toward supporting a child and potentially a


    man who I don''t even know?


    Suddenly, Iris turns and stares at me. Her amber eyes go as wide as saucers, her face turning pale. She instantly jumps up from her chair, clutching the silver locket at her throat, and that''s all the confirmation I need, I can see that red tinge to her cheeks, the telltale sign that she''s just been caught.


    It was something that I figured out about her years ago, when we first started dating-the way she would always blush when she was lying or hiding something. Despite our years apart, I''ve never forgotten the color her cheeks turn when she''s caught red-


    handed. Red like a cherry.


    And she''s doing it now.


    Iris doesn''t say anything, not that I give her a chance to. Without a word, I turn on my heel and leave.


    All this time, I''ve been deluding myself. I guess I thought that I had a chance to pull Iris back, that just the right amount of money might convince her that I care. Maybe I even figured that if I gave Iris the career she so desperately wants, she woulde back to


    e in her own time.


    me


    But I was wrong.


    +20 Bonus


    No wonder she went back to Bo''Arrocan on a whim like that. I only just figured


    out that she had moved there at some point during


    our time apart, but I guess there''s a lot more to the story that I didn''t know.


    I thought I was in the clear when I found out that she''s not actually married to that


    Brian guy, that those twins aren''t hers.


    But I wasn''t. She''s with someone, it seems.


    And more than that... she has a child.


    I don''t stop moving until I''m in my car, and even then, I don''t really stop. I peel away from the curb and race through the city


    streets, not caring if I get pulled over for speeding. I''m the Alpha President of Ordan, for Goddess'' sake. I''ll speed if I wish.


    As I drive, the city streets turning into a blur around me, I clench my jaw and tighten my fingers around the steering wheel so


    much that my knuckles turn white and the leather squeaks.


    A child.


    It can''t be my child, right? It''s impossible. She aborted it. She...


    Without thinking, I pull the car over ande to a screeching halt on the side of the road. I let loose a deep, heavy sigh, shaking


    my head and pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. Since when have I been this reactive to things? I should just let it go,


    ''leave her in the past, and yet...


    I need to know. I quickly Mindlink my Beta, needing answers as soon as possible. "Find any information you can on Iris''s living situation in Bo''Arrocan," I say, my mental voice tinged with frustration. "I think she had a kid after all."


    My Beta replies just as quickly as ever, promising to look into it as soon as he can.


    It''s not until muchter that I hear back from him. I''m in my office-I couldn''t bring myself to go home tonight, because going home means being idle, and I''d rather throw myself into my work than have to think about the kid-when my Beta suddenly


    walks in


    Immediately, I feel my face go pale. I know it''s serious when he doesn''t Mindlink me, but rather shows up in person at this time


    of night.


    Without a word, he tosses a folder onto my desk. I nce up at him, and his face is grim. I grab the folder and flick it open.


    "Shit," I say a momentter, throwing the folder back down on the desk so that the papers scatter across the ss surface.


    He nods. "The birth date would line up," he says. "You would need to perform a paternity test, but it''s possible that the boy is yours."


    A son. I could have a son.


    We could have a son


    +20 Bonus


    My hand moves of its own ord, and suddenly, I''m dialing Iris'' number. She changed her number when she left all those years


    ago, my Beta found her current one, and I don''t care if she''s sleeping. I need to know the truth.


    but


    But there''s no answer.

 Chapter 28

    My face is stretched with a smile when Miles and I get off the ne. He''s so excited that he''s yanking on my hand, skipping ahead and pointing at all the sights. If I weren''t so tired from all the moving aroundtely, I might be skipping through the airport right along with him.


    "Look, Mommy!" Miles practically shouts, pointing at an airport ice cream stand. "Ice cream! Can we get some?"


    I chuckle and shake my head. "It''s nine in the morning, love. We''ll get ice creamter."


    Miles pushes his lower lip out in a pout, but quickly gets distracted by something else.


    I can''t help but smile and shake my head good-naturedly, impressed by the kid''s resilience. We''ve been up since three in the


    morning to make it here in time, and he didn''t even nap on the ne, and yet you would think he just woke up from a hundred-


    year slumber.


    But my smile fades when a man in a trench coat, a hat, and one of those blue surgical masks steps in our way, towering over me


    and Miles. I grip Miles'' hand a little tighter, pulling him away.


    "Excuse us


    "Iris."


    That voice is familiar. Too familiar.


    I stiffen, taking a step back as Arthur pulls his mask down.


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    Support


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    #20 Bonus


    Iris


    The moment I see Arthur standing over me, my entire body freezes up.


    As a human, I don''t have the werewolf instincts that innately make my body react to an Alpha''s presence, but it doesn''t matter.


    The cold authority in Arthur''s gaze is enough to make me stiffen, my mind, body, and heart all warring against one another.


    On one hand, he''s my fated mate, and his very presence sets my heart racing even after all this time.


    But my mind knows where this is going-what he can no doubt sense now just from looking at Miles. I know I should leave.


    And yet my body is frozen like a deer in headlights.


    "Mommy?" The sound of Miles'' voice pulls me out of my reverie. He tugs on my hand, half-hiding behind my legs. "Who is


    that?"


    Arthur smiles and crouches, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of Miles'' eyes-big green eyes, just like his own. Only then


    do I know I need to move.


    "No one, sweetheart," I say, scooping Miles up into my arms before Arthur can touch him. I whirl around Arthur, beelining for the baggage im so I can get the hell out of here.


    But Arthur is quick. He''s always been quick even for an Alpha, especially when he wants something. He steps in our way once


    more, and this time, his eyes are darker, gleaming with something that I can''t quite read.


    "Iris," he says, his voice low and dark. "We need to talk. Now."


    I shake my head, taking a step back. "I don''t want to," I blurt out.


    Arthur''s shoulder''s slump infinitesimally, like he actually expected me to go with him and now he''s disappointed. But before


    either of us can speak, Miles'' nostrils re. He sniffs the air as if picking up a scent, then cocks his head.


    "Is he my daddy?"


    I hold back a curse. Miles is a human, like me, with no wolf. But I''m sure he still possesses some werewolf traits like his father,


    primarily an innate sense for the familial bond that they share.


    Werewolves know their packs-their kin. They can, quite literally, smell the unique essence in their blood that ties them to their


    family. Miles is no different, even if he''s not entirely sure what it means yet.


    Arthur''s eyebrows shoot up, no doubt already havinge to the same conclusion himself. Although he''d need an actual paternity test just to be sure, he can sense that Miles is rted to him. Any dummy could put two and two together.


    I never should have brought Miles to Ordan. This was a mistake.


    In my head, all of the worst possibilities sh by like a movie: Arthur whisking


    Miles away as his heir, iming custody. Never


    +20 Bonus


    letting t


    g me see my son again unless I agree to being his sordid little mistress.


    Or, perhaps, Arthur won''t im Miles at all. He''ll turn up his nose at him,in that he''s a half-blood and therefore not fit to


    be an Alpha''s heir, and he''ll try to throw more money at me to keep me quiet and out of his life.


    Neat and tidy. Exactly what he hoped for, all those years ago, when he wanted to keep me hidden from the rest of the world while he married a werewolf woman in public.


    Finally, I manage, "No, honey, He''s just...." I flick my eyes over Arthur, not bothering to hide my disdain. "An acquaintance. Nothing more."


    Miles looks confused. Arthur, for his part, looks borderline furious.


    "Right," he says, a muscle ticking in his sharp jawline. "An acquaintance.


    With a curt nod, I turn on my heel to leave, hoping that Arthur will get the fucking point and leave us alone now. I don''t want him


    involved with my son, and I don''t want whatever money or deal he''ll likely throw at me in order to keep this whole thing up to his


    standards.


    But then Arthur calls out to me, "This acquaintance would like to know if you have


    a ride from the airport."


    I hesitate briefly, my arms tightening around Miles. Brian and his husband are both busy today, and I was nning on hailing a cab. I''d still rather do that then ept a ride from Arthur. But as I nce over at the cab pickup area, noticing the enormous crowd of people standing in line, I feel my conviction waver.


    Despite everything, Arthur hasn''t hurt me in any way since my return to Ordan. I hate him after what he did five years ago, but I


    know he only means to help by offering a ride.


    Finally, after considering for a few more moments, I sigh and turn back to face him.


    "Fine."


    "Fine?" He tilts his head as if he expected me to get on my knees and praise him for the offer.


    "Fine," I repeat firmly.


    Arthur doesn''t argue, and instead helps me gather our bags from the baggage im and then leads us out to his car. Miles gawks at him the entire time, his nose twitching as he tries to piece together whatever the hell is going on. I''m sure I''ll be receiving plenty of questionster.

 Chapter 29

    hapter 29


    Questions that I''m not ready to answer. And maybe I never will be


    To my surprise, Arthur has a kids'' car seat in the back of his car. It still has a tag on it.


    "You just bought this?" I ask, ncing up at him as Miles climbs in


    Arthur simply shrugs, his gaze betraying nothing. I can''t help but wonder if he and Selina n on having children soon. Although I tell myself that I don''t give a shit, the thought makes my chest tighten painfully. I shove the notion away, deciding that it''s not


    my concem.


    The car ride is mostly silent, save for the hum of the engine and ssical music ying on the radio. Goddess, even the music


    Arthur listens to is the same as all those years ago; he was always a big ssical fan, and we went to more than one symphony


    during our time together.


    Miles begins to hum in the backseat. Arthur nces at him in the rearview mirror, "You like this song?" he asks.


    I want to tell him not to speak to my son, but I hold my tongue. Miles just nods.


    Arthur looks at me briefly, surprise written across his face. I shrug. "ssical music is good for kids. It''s good for healthy brain


    development.


    If Arthur agrees, he doesn''t say anything. Although I swear I can see the muscles in his face soften ever so slightly. Finally, he says, "Well, if you like this, there are lots of good orchestras in Ordan. I could take you sometime."


    Miles'' face lights up, and it''s all I can do not to bury my face and groan. If circumstances were different, I might consider going- I always had fun doing such things when we were together-but they''re not.


    "That sounds fun!" Miles says, pping his hands together. "I like to hear the viowins."


    "Violins, sweetie," I correct. When I notice Arthur looking at me, I add, "Speech impediment. We''re working on it, but it still ships


    out sometimes. "


    "There are plenty of good speech therapists in Ordan, too," Arthur says.


    I purse my lips, holding my tongue once more. I half expect him to offer to pay for one, to im that the heir to the oh-so- esteemed Alpha President should speak well. But surprisingly, he doesn''t. Although he does say, "Are you just visiting


    Before I can answer, Miles cuts in, "Nope! We''re gonna live here now!"


    Arthur practicallyes to a screeching halt at a red light. He looks over at me, his eyes as wide as saucers. I can feel my cheeks heat under his gaze, although I manage to keep my expression neutral.


    "Why?" he asks, his voice lower now. He''s not speaking to Miles anymore, but rather to me. "I thought you were living with that


    ?30 Bonus


    Brian guy


    "You can just call him Brian, for the record," I reply bitterly. "And what does it matter if I am?"


    "You''re going to move in with a whole other family along with your son? Isn''t it going to be a little... cramped?"


    For a moment, I almost tell him that Miles and I won''t be living with Brian and his family, but I stop myself. It''s better that he


    doesn''t know where we''ll really be living, as I don''t want him showing up at our ce for whatever reason.


    Besides, I just don''t want him knowing too much about my life. I worked hard to rebuild after what he did to me, and the strides


    I''ve made-being able to afford a nice apartment here for me and Miles-are my


    own.


    So instead, I just shrug and don''t say anything else.


    A few minutester, Arthur pulls up in front of Brian''s apartment. The car has barely stopped before I''m getting out and helping


    Miles unbuckle from his car seat. Brian and Liam are waiting for us on the front steps, the twins excitedly waving at Miles.


    As Miles runs to greet them, Arthur helps me remove the bags from the trunk. I grunt out a curt, "Thanks," and move to take the


    bags.


    But his grip holds, refusing to release the bags until I meet his gaze. When I do, his face is grim.


    "Why did you reallye here?" he whispers. "If you''re trying to get inheritance money, then-"


    I gasp, my mouth hanging open. My hand itches to p him, but I don''t. Rather, I yank the bags away and grind out, "Fuck you, Arthur. I don''t want anything from you."


    Before he can answer, I turn on my heel and storm inside, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk.


    SURPERISE GIFT: 3850 bonus free for you,activity time is limited!

 Chapter 30

    Iris


    Thankfully, our first night in Ordan, Miles was too excited to see the twins and Brian and Liam to ask about Arthur. That doesn''t


    mean that Brian and Liam didn''t ask, though.


    "Girl, is he following you?" Liam askedst night over much-needed sses of wine. "It seems like everywhere you aretely,


    there he is."


    I rolled my eyes and waved him off. But even now, as the morning sun streams through the window of my shared-temporary-


    bedroom with Miles, I can''t help but think back on yesterday.


    I''m not sure if Arthur will try to meddle again, but I hope he won''t. Especially not after the way he actually insinuated that I only brought Miles here for inheritance money.


    ¡°Bastard,¡± I mutter out loud before I can stop myself


    Miles, who''s just beginning to stir, rolls over. His hair is adorably mussed from sleep, and he yawns big and wide in that adorable


    childlike way that kids do before they be too self-conscious of the faces they make.


    "What did you say, Mommy?" he asks.


    I shake my head and wrap my arms around him, pulling him close and tickling him. "Nothing, little wolf," I say over the sounds


    of his little giggles. Miles writhes against me, pushing away, his face scrunched up withughter.


    Ever since Miles was born, I called him my ''little wolf''. I know he''s not a werewolf- the doctors told me he was 100% human-


    but when I look at him, he just looks so much like his father that I can''t help it.


    For a few moments, I just hold him close, enjoying this moment of peace. Despite everything that happened with Arthur, I''ll


    always be grateful for the beautiful child we made together. Even the scent of his hair is enough to make me want another.


    It''s moments like this that make me wish Arthur could be here, though. I wish he was here for the past five years, and that we


    could have raised our son together. But it''s toote now, and besides, it doesn''t matter. Miles and I are happy just the way we are.


    But thenes the bombshell.


    "Mommy?" Miles asks, lifting his head to look at me. "Was that man yesterday really my daddy?"


    Something in my chest turns to ash. I don''t know what to say-either lie to Miles, going against everything I''ve prided myself on


    as a mother, or tell him the truth and change everything.


    Finally, I settle on the most simple answer; a distraction.


    "Enough about him," I say, ruffling his hair. "Let''s go out for breakfast. Just you and me. We''ll get waffles.''


    Miles'' eyes light up at the mention of his favorite breakfast food of all time, and he''s momentarily distracted. I let out a breath of


    +20 Bonus


    1. ed. For now at least


    relief as he scrambles out of bed to get dressed. Crisis averted. For now, at least.


    I quickly dress, throwing on afortable knit skirt and a slim fit blouse with ts.


    I throw my chestnut hair into a messy bun


    and p on a little mascara just to feel a bit more alive, and then we''re out the door.


    Down the street, we head into a local diner that I used to love when I lived in Ordan. It''s one of those retro joints with chrome ents and vibrant red booths. We take a seat near the window, and while Miles is trying to decide on which topping to get for his


    waffles, I sip my coffee.


    "Can I have chocte chips, Mommy?" Miles asks, ncing up at me. "And strawberries?"


    I nod and order our breakfasts, and as we wait, Miles swings his legs and hums


    to himself. It''s a nice, quiet moment, the sort of


    morning that I hope we''ll have plenty of now that we''re together again.


    But just like earlier, that peace onlysts for so long.


    "You never told me about that man.""


    I nearly spill my coffee. "Honey..."


    ¡°He just felt familiar," Miles says, wrinkling his nose. "I feel like I know him, even though I''ve never seen him before."


    Support

 Chapter 31

    The innocence in his voice sends ance of regret through me. I want to tell him the truth-I really do. We''ve always been honest


    with each other, and having to lie to him over the phone that one time still


    bothers me.


    And yet... Even nas I open my mouth to tell him that, yes, Arthur is his father, I just... can''t. The words just won''te, because,


    frankly...


    I''m afraid. Afraid that if Miles knows the truth, he''ll want to see Arthur more. And if he wants to see Arthur more, then I''ll be forced to look into the eyes of the man who betrayed me in a more painful way than anyone else ever could.


    I know it''s selfish, but it''s true.


    But it''s not just out of selfishness; I fear that Arthur may reject Miles, just like he rejected me. I fear that Miles won''t be worthy enough of Arthur''s love as a half- blood son-the product of an unfortunate union between a human and a werewolf. The Alpha


    President, no less.


    I can''t let my son feel the same pain that I felt five years ago. The pain that I feel


    even now.


    So that''s why I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood and answer, "He''s not your father, Miles."


    Miles looks disappointed, but doesn''t bring it up again. I taste blood all throughout our breakfast.


    After breakfast, we meet Liam, Brian, and the twins at our apartment. Thendy said we could move in today, and I can''t wait


    to show Miles the ce.


    Of course, just as I suspected, he loves it especially the bunk bed. He and the twins run off to y while Brian, Liam and I begin unpacking the suitcases in the living room, carefully stacking piles of clothes and knick-knacks. But each item feels like a weight, another step into Ordan and out of the safety and anonymity that Bo''Arrocan provided.


    I don''t realize that my eyes have misted with tears until Brian touches my hand. "Hey. You''re gonna be fine."


    I look up and quickly wipe my eyes. "I know."


    Brian and Liam exchange nces, and Brian says gently, "This is gonna be good for you and Miles. You don''t need to worry ab


    Arthur."


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I say, managing a watery smile even though I don''t believe him.


    Sure enough,ter that night, once Miles is asleep and I''m setting up a fresh canvas in my studio area, there''s a knock on the


    door. I furrow my brow and wrap my yellow sweater tighter around myself as I hurry over and check through the peephole.


    It''s Arthur''s Beta.


    "Dammit," I hiss,posing myself before I swing open the door. The first thing out of my mouth when I''m face to face with


    +20 Bonus


    him is, "How the hell did you find this address?"


    The Beta blinks at me for a moment. I fold my arms and re back, waiting for him to speak.


    "Alpha Arthur summoned you," he says, holding out a small white card.


    I re at him for a moment longer before I snatch it away. The card looks official, embossed with Arthur''s name, office address,


    phone number, and email. There''s a nk space at the bottom with a time and date handwritten on it for nine o''clock tomorrow


    morning.


    "An official appointment?" I ask, ncing up at the Beta. "What for?"


    "There are some papers you''ll have to sign before you can be re-registered as an official citizen of Ordan. Otherwise..." He nces up and over my shoulder, briefly taking in my apartment before I move into his line of sight. "Your living situation might


    be at risk," he finishes.


    I curse again and look back down at the card. I want to refuse, of course, but I can''t risk losing my apartment when I''ve only just


    moved in. Miles would be devastated.


    I guess I''ll have no choice but to see Arthur onest time.


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 Chapter 32

    Iris


    Arthur''s office is thest ce I''d like to be this morning. I''d much rather be spending my morning with Miles, or perhaps working on the new painting that came to mindtest night-an abstraction of waffles and strawberries bleeding thick, red


    blood.


    But instead, I''m here, walking through the opulent halls of his headquarters again.


    The secretary opens the door to Arthur''s office for me and gestures for me to enter. "The Alpha President will be right with you,"


    he says with a curt smile.


    Of course, Arthur isn''t even here yet. Of course he would make me


    wait.


    I take a seat in the slick leather chair across from his desk, the fabric squeaking as I settle in. For a moment, I nce around the room, taking in the pristine ss-top desk without so much as a finger smudge on it, the state-of-the-artputer, the ss of water refracting tiny rainbows across the desk''s surface, and most of all...


    The golden award for the Ordan Historical Society''s Cancer Benefit sitting on the windowsill.


    I want tough out loud at the award. I''m not so sure anymore if he would donate for the cause or just for the recognition and the trophy. The man I once knew, or so I thought, would have donated just for the cause.


    Now... I don''t know who Arthur is anymore, really. I''m not sure if I ever did.


    I''m not waiting long before the frosted ss door swings open again, and Arthur strides in with an air of authority. I get a whiff of expensive cologne as he brushes past me and takes a seat behind his desk.


    "Iris," he says, reaching into a man folder and withdrawing a small bundle of papers. "Thank you foring."


    "Your Beta told me you had some paperwork I had to sign," I say as ndly as I can manage. But I can''t help but add, "He showed.


    up at my address. An address that I never shared with you outright."


    Arthur nces up at me. "And why didn''t you?"


    I bristle. "Why should I? It''s my personal business, Mr. President."


    He doesn''t respond to that, and I''m not sure if that annoys me more than words could. He slides the papers across the desk along


    with a pen. "I just need you to sign these," he says, leaning back in his chair. "Your citizenship papers."


    Just to spite him, and just in case he''s trying anything sneaky to get custody of Miles, I pick up the papers and carefully read through each and every one. Arthur remains silent, his green eyes fixed on me unwaveringly as I read. The only sound in the room


    is the rustle of the papers and the ticking of the clock on the wall, as well as the distant hum of the city far below.


    I take my time, ensuring that everything is in order. But I''m both relieved and a little surprised to find that the papers are indeed exactly what Arthur said. There''s nothing fishy in any of the uses-just simple agreements to abide by Ordanws, to not


    +20 Bonus


    bring contraband into the city, and to get an Ordan driver''s license within ny days.


    Once I''m finished reading, I sign my name on the provided lines, then slide the papers back toward Arthur and gather my bag.


    "Is there anything else you need?" I ask curtly, moving to stand.


    I wish I hadn''t asked. Arthur nods.


    "Yes," he says. "There is something else. Regarding Miles."


    My stomach twists painfully just hearing Arthur say his name, the name he was


    never supposed to know. I expected this, of


    course; these papers could have been signed in front of a notary, not the President of Ordan himself.


    Honestly, I''m not sure why I agreed toe here, because I knew that he had an ulterior motive already. Maybe my reason for it


    is something that I''m not ready to admit to myself. Maybe the same reason I epted the ride from the airport even though I


    could have called a cab.


    The mate bond still pulls me toward him even now, it seems. Making me temporarily lose my sense of logic at the worst of times.


    But I shove the thought away.


    "What about him?" I ask, lifting my chin.


    "As you may have figured out by now," Arthur says calmly, "I have been investigating you since our chance meeting a few weeks


    ago."

 Chapter 33

    I can''t hold back my indignant snort as I fold my arms across my chest. "You don''t


    say.


    Arthur doesn''t react to my quip, although I can see his eyes sh with annoyance. "I want to perform an official paternity test to determine for certain that Miles is my son," he goes on. "If it is determined that he''s my son, which I''m fairly certain it will, then I''ll happily write you a check."


    My blood begins to boil. Here we go again-Arthur assuming that I only brought Miles here for inheritance money. But before I can bite out a retort, Arthur withdraws a check from his wallet and holds it up:


    I can see.


    "This will be the first check of many," he says. "One hundred thousand Ordan dors for your first year. This will, of course, coincide with your own house for you and Miles to live in, along with whatever expenses you may incur. I''d like to ensure that you are bothfortable and cared for until he''s at least of age."


    For a moment, I just stare at the check in shock. It''s almost entirely filled out-he just has to sign his name.


    But I don''t want it. I never wanted any of this-the money, the house, the so-called fort. I only ever wanted a loving family, and Arthur stole that dream from me the day he made it so clear that he only saw me as a human mistress and nothing


    more.


    "No," I say, adjusting my purse on my shoulder and standing. "Keep your money. I don''t want it. Or need it, for that matter."


    dou


    Arthur furrows his brow, as if he''s genuinely puzzled. "Then what do you want, Iris?"


    "Nothing."


    "There must be something."


    Truthfully, I want to pick up the ss of water sitting on his desk and dump it over his head. But I restrain myself, and instead, something elsees to mind. I pull my shoulders back. "Fine. There is something you can do for me, actually."


    Arthur''s eyebrows lift in question, and I lean over his desk, cing my palms t on the pristine surface. "Since you love paperwork so much, ask your legal team to draw up a contract for us.


    "A contract?"


    I nod and lean a little closer so that our faces are less than a foot apart now. Even now, the sensation of his warm breath fanning


    across my face, smelling slightly of spearmint, nearly makes my knees wobble with the sort of excitement that can only be caused


    by the proximity of one''s mate.


    But I control myself and say, "I want the contract to state that you will not, under any circumstances, perform a paternity test.


    And you will not try to take my son from me. You will relinquish any rights to parenthood, and you will stay the hell out of our


    lives."


    The room is dead silent, as if even the clock and the city below are holding their breath. Arthur blinks up at me in surprise;


    something about the look he gives me is satisfying, and I straighten, smugly ncing at the handprints I''ve left on that beautiful


    +20 Bonus


    ss desk of his.


    "Why?" he finally says, rising from his chair. "Why would you want to raise a child on your own without any financial support? I''m offering you the world, Iris. Do you want a fucking mansion on the beach? White horses and limousines? Miles would want for nothing. All you have to do is ask "


    No, I think bitterly, my jaw clenching. He still wouldn''t have a father. Not one who would create a real, happy family with us.


    No amount of money or things will ever make up for that.


    When I remain silent, Arthur sucks in a sharp breath and says, "Fine, Five hundred thousand Ordan dors a year. Is that enough


    for you?"


    Once again, the ss of water on his desk looks awfully inviting. My fingers itch toward it, begging to watch it soak through his expensive designer suit and ruin his perfectly-coiffed hair.


    But once again, I restrain myself.


    "I said this the other day, and I''ll say it again," I manage through clenched teeth. "Fuck you, Arthur. Fuck you straight to hell, and stop fucking investigating me. I want nothing more to do with you''


    And with that, I turn and leave the office.


    12


    bonus free for you,activity time is limited!

 Chapter 34

    Arthur


    I watch Iris storm out of the office, her yellow cardigan fluttering behind her like a shaft of sunlight. In a sh, she''s gone, leaving behind nothing but a single chestnut hair and a trace of the scent of oil paints. The frosted ss door ms shut behind


    her


    For several long moments, all I can do is stand there, staring at the spot where she just stood. Then, my eyes flick down to the hand-shaped smudges she left on my desk.


    My wolf whines with yearning just at the sight of those small hands, those slender fingers.


    I sigh and sink down into my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose wearily. What the hell is wrong with her? She''s seriously turning down five hundred thousand dors a year for the foreseeable future? Has she gone mad?


    When I met Iris, she was... not in the best financial position. She was waiting tables and scrounging up tips just to afford rent and art supplies, and the thought of art school was like a distant dream for her. I was from a wealthy Alpha family, and when, after dating for a little while, I offered for her to move into my family home with me, she jumped at the opportunity.


    She didn''t even have to work when we were together. She could spend her days painting to her heart''s content, and I never minded footing all the bills for our living expenses.


    And that was then. Now, I have even more money. I could literally give her the moon on a string if that''s what she wants, and


    yet...


    She doesn''t want it. Even when I multiplied my offer five times over, she refused. She doesn''t want ten times more than most people''s sries, she doesn''t want an entire estate of her own, and she doesn''t want all theforts that money can buy.


    It doesn''t make any fucking sense.


    Her apartment is nice, I suppose. Not nearly as nice as a mansion, though, and she doesn''t have any staff. Plus, it''s just a rental; even with her newfound sess as an artist, she seemingly still can''t afford owning property outright


    Why?


    Shaking my head, I grab the ss of water on my desk and take a sip, letting the cool liquid soothe my frayed nerves. The water and ss catch the morning sunlight streaming in through the enormous windows overlooking the city below, sending tiny rainbow-colored fractals across my fingers and the surface of my desk.


    I consider the small array of light for a moment, turning the ss in my hand. Then, my eye catches the handprints left on my desk once more, and my chest tightens ufortably.


    Those hands once held me at night. Those fingers once fit so perfectly between mine. Like two pieces of a puzzle.


    +20 Bonus


    Unless Iris has be a negotiating extraordinaire over the past five years, I''m beginning to think that maybe I was wrong about


    her. Maybe money isn''t her main driving force.


    Still, Miles is my son. I may not have performed a paternity test yet, but I can sense our kinship in his blood-my wolf can sense


    1. it.


    And right now, I want nothing more than this sweet little family. I''ve always desired a family like this, one built on love. My own parents, rest their souls, hated each other until their dying breaths. They only ever cared about money and material things,


    something that I guess I assumed everyone only wanted until this very moment.


    Tris...


    I shake my head, setting the ss down. I don''t know what Iris really wants, but that''s of no consequence right now. Right now,


    all that matters is bringing her back to me. Bringing my son into my life.


    I have to win them back.


    Iris


    1 pace the kitchen, stirring the pancake batter so furiously that it sloshes out of


    the bowl and stters onto the front of my shirt. It''s been twenty-four hours since


    Ist saw Arthur, and I''m still fit to be tied.


    Support

 Chapter 35

    +20 Bonus


    Five hundred thousand Ordan dors. Per year.


    And for what? To keep me under his thumb? To ensure that Miles feels obligated to him, so that he can groom him into being the


    Alpha heir he always wanted?


    Even if I epted that absurd offer, which I would never, it likely wouldn''t change the fact that Arthur would never view us as fully worthy of his love. I''d still be his sordid human mistress, and Miles would be the half-blood son. epting us, loving us, in


    the eye of the public would be too messy for Arthur.


    Arthur and his pristine office, his spotless desk, his perfectly-tailored suit and neatly swept hair.


    He would never.


    And what really hurts is that he still seems to think that I''m just a shallow gold digger, that adding more and more zeroes onto his offers will make me happy when all I ever wanted was for him to view me as worthy of marriage.


    Not her.


    I don''t realize


    okay?"


    that I''ve whipped the pancake batter into oblivion until Miles suddenly tugs at my pant leg. "Mommy? Are you


    I startle, almost having forgotten where I was for a moment. The sight of my son''s big eyes blinking up at me softens me, though,


    and I offer him a smile and ruffle his hair.


    "Ready for pancakes?"


    Miles grins and scrambles onto his chair at the kitchen table, waiting patiently as he nibbles at the berries and melons I''ve prepared. I turn toward the stove and pour the batter onto the waiting pan, taking a deep breath to steady myself.


    It''s not worth getting angry over anymore, I decide. I''ve told Arthur how I feel, and hopefully, he''ll stay out of our lives for good


    now.


    And now, I''ve got other things to look forward to. Like enjoying a decadent breakfast in our sunlit kitchen with my son. And I still have that painting to get started on; I can already picture it in my head, can smell the oil paints calling to


    me.


    Today will be a peaceful day, I decide, which feels like a small rebellion against Arthur. Just me and Miles, enjoying our n new home. I''ll surprise him with a trip to the farmer''s marketter to get some fresh vegetables for dinner, and we''ll be happy, and things will feel normal again, and I won''t see or hear from-


    Knock, knock.


    My hand stills over the frying pan, my heart leaping into my throat. Somehow, I know it''s him before I even open the door. I can feel the mate bond practically vibrating with his proximity, like an invisible thread attached to one of my ribs is being faintly


    tugged from the other end.


    +20 Bonus


    I turn, about to tell Miles to ignore it-that it''s just the mailman letting us know he dropped off a package-but it''s toote.


    "I''ll get i


    it!" Miles shouts, jumping out of his chair and running to the door. "No, honey-"


    He


    swings the door open, and just as I suspected, Arthur is standing on the threshold.


    Miles stares up at him, his mouth hanging open. Mine falls open, too, only because Arthur isn''t dressed in his usual suit, but rather wearing a in white t- shirt and tailored trousers, a baseball cap sitting on his head. That single curl that I used to love is still firmly tamed and out of sight, but he looks almost... casual,


    Like he''s not just here on business.


    Still, I feel the urge to shout at him to leave, to tell him that I made it perfectly fucking clear yesterday that I want him to leave me and my son alone.


    But before I can speak, he holds up three tickets.


    "Who wants to go to the amusement park?" he asks.


    SURPERISE GIFT: 3850 bonus free for you,activity time is limited!

 Chapter 36

    Iris


    I must look like a wreck as I stare at the three tickets in Arthur''s hand, my mouth


    hanging open and the front of my shirt sttered with pancake batter, but I don''t care. I''m trying to figure out what Arthur''s angle is.


    After everything that I said to him yesterday, why would he show up here? And why would he try to take us out to the amusement park, of all things?


    But before I can answer, Miles whirls to face me and grins, his lips and cheeks stained purple from the blueberries he was just


    eating.


    "Can we, Mommy?" he pleads, sping his hands together. "Oh, please, can we go?"


    I''m not sure what to say. It''s almost impossible for me to tell Miles ''no'' under normal circumstances, and considering the fact that he was so upset during our weeks apart, I want nothing more than to give him the best time while we''re settling in here.


    Plus, with Arthur staring at us, no doubt judging every little thing I do, it''s even harder to deny Miles.


    denuru


    Finally, my shoulders slump with defeat. I want to tell Arthur to piss off and leave us alone, but I just can''t bring myself to do it. Not with Miles looking so hopeful. "Alright," I say with a soft sigh. "Eat your breakfast, and then we''ll go."


    Miles cheers, excitedly running back to his seat. I shake my head and turn around, flipping the pancake in the pan.


    I can sense Arthur still standing behind me, lingering in the doorway. I almost consider letting him stand there awkwardly while we eat our breakfast, just to spite him, but even that is more cruel than I''d feelfortable with.


    "Come in," I call over my shoulder without looking at him. "There aren''t enough pancakes, but you can help yourself to some


    coffee if you want."


    I''ll let hime in briefly, but I''m certainly not going to serve him.


    "I''m good, thanks," Arthur says, clearing his throat. He shuts the door behind him and hesitates in the entryway. When I finally te the pancakes and turn around, I find him still standing there, looking around at our apartment.


    "Not the hovel you expected, is it?" I bite out as I ce the te down in front of Miles, scooping a dollop of homemade whipped


    cream on top.


    Arthur''s jaw ticks, but he calmly replies, "I never expected a hovel."


    Right, I think bitterly. Fat chance of that


    Still, I keep my expression neutral, leaving Miles to eat his breakfast while I make my way toward my bedroom. I can''t exactly go out wearing pajama pants and a shirt with pancake batter on it, so I slip away to get changed.


    +20 Bonus


    As I rifle through my closet, picking out a suitable outfit for the warm weather we''ll be having today, I curse myself inwardly for


    caving so easily. I was proud of myself for refusing Arthur''s offers before, for sticking to my guns.


    And yet here I am, folding at the first sign of him actually trying to be a halfway decent father.


    However, I push the thought away, picking out afortable floral sundress and a pair of t shoes. After dressing, I wash my face in the adjoined bathroom, throw on some mascara and lipstick, thenb my hair into loose waves and take onest look in


    the mirror.


    Much better. Although I hate the way my heart flutters ever so slightly, as if a part of me actually gives a shit how I look in front of


    Arthur.


    When I emerge from the bedroom, Miles has already finished his breakfast and I can hear him getting dressed in his own room Arthur is standing in the hallway, his head tilted back, staring up at arge painting that''s hanging on the wall.


    I hesitate in the bedroom doorway, allowing myself a brief moment to take him in.


    His expression is... thoughtful. There''s something softer about his face, something more contemtive.


    And for a moment, he almost looks like the man I once loved.


    Almost.


    Arthur nces at me then, and something flickers in his gaze that makes my heart skip a beat. Briefly, he drags his gaze across my outfit, lingering first on the soft blue of my dress, then my bare legs, then my lo

 Chapter 37

    I hate how the way he looks at me makes butterflies flutter around in my stomach.


    "This one of yours?" he asks, jerking his chin toward the painting. He finally pulls his gaze away from me, and I let out a breath I didn''t realize I was holding.


    "Yes," I say, nodding. I step up beside him, looking up at therge painting of a little green-eyed toddler sitting in a field of flowers. "I painted it when Miles was two.!


    Arthur stares at the painting in silence for a few moments longer, and I stare along with him. I still remember the day I painted this, the summer sunshine warming my shoulders as I worked. Miles was quiet then, his tiny fingers contentedly ying with the


    flowers.


    But the memory is bittersweet, too, because it was the day after I found out that Miles was behind-developmentally, I''d noticed that something was off when he wasn''t babbling and trying to form words like most toddlers, and while Brian and Liam and I first tried to brush it off as Miles simply being introverted, we couldn''t ignore it any longer.


    The doctor said that he might be on the spectrum. Not that it bothered me, of course, but it was still a lot to take in.


    He didn''t start talking until he was four. Now, aside from a mild speech impediment, Miles is developing at a perfectly normal rate. He still goes nonverbal at times, and has his own hyperfixations and particrities, and sometimes I swear he''s older beyond his years, but to me, that''s just what makes him ''him''.


    And I wouldn''t have it any other way.


    I wonder, though, what Arthur would think if I told him. He''d probably just view Miles as even more of an "other". For all I know, he''d just me his development on having a human mother.


    But I push the thought away when Miles emerges from his room, wearing apletely mismatched outfit consisting of one


    dinosaur sock, one pink sock, a pair of id shorts, and a t-shirt with a cartoon character on it.


    He grins up at us, disying the one missing canine tooth in his mouth. "I''m ready!"


    I can''t help butugh as I hold my hand out to him. "You look fabulous, kid." But I


    can''t help but nce at Arthur, wondering if


    this might be a further embarrassment for him.


    To my surprise, he''s smiling, and it softens me. With that, we head outside, where Arthur''s car is waiting. A little whileter, we''re pulling up to the amusement park, Miles swinging his legs and humming happily in the backseat.


    As Arthur pulls into a parking spot, I can''t fully hide the smile that''s tugging at my lips. This feels... normal. Like the sort of thing a family might do.


    But the feeling quickly dissipates when Arthur reaches across myp, opens the glovepartment, and pulls out two more baseball hats-one adult size, and one for a child. "Can you put these on?"


    +20 Bonus


    "What?"


    Arthur taps the brim of his own hat. "I can''t be seen.... I''m sure you understand."


    My jaw clenches tightly as the realization settles over me. Of course. Of course he can''t be seen with me, with us with his sordid,


    forbidden human mistress and his half-blood son. If I had thought of this beforehand, I would have refuseding here at all.


    It''s toote now, though. So I snatch the hats away, but make no effort to hide my annoyance as I jam one onto my head. If Arthur


    notices my frustration, he doesn''t say anything as he slips his sunsses on and gets out of the car.


    And yet, as I watch him help Miles out of his car seat and lift him onto his shoulders, as I watch Miles gawk quietly at all of the


    sights and sounds of the amusement park, clutching Arthur''s neck, I find it difficult to stay angry.


    If only it weren''t for... well, everything, I might say that Arthur is acting like the perfect father..

 Chapter 38

    Iris


    The amusement park is a riot of color and noise, familles milling about and the sounds of game machines whirring through the


    air.


    Miles is perched on top of Arthur''s shoulders high above the crowd, his face is split in the widest grin I''ve ever seen.


    I can''t help but smile.


    As we make our way through the crowd, Miles points out a stuffed shark that catches his eye. It''s hanging over one of those gimmicky game booths where you have to hit the targets to win a prize. The game itself is likely rigged, but Arthur doesn''t hesitate to hand the booth attendant a few bills and pick up the rubber ball.


    Unsurprisingly, Arthur hits all of the targets in one go, winning Miles the stuffed shark. Miles clutches it to his chest, grinning


    from ear to ear.


    "Thank you, Daddy!" he beams.


    My stomach turns over at the sound of that word-Daddy-but I keep my expression neutral. Once again, I''m reminded of the lie I told Miles the other day. It''s been nagging at me nonstop, keeping me awake at night.


    Lying to him makes me feel like a horrible mother. Even more so when it seems as though he''s seen right through my lie,ing to his own conclusion that Arthur is, in fact, his father, and there''s nothing I can do about it.


    We make our way through the park, stopping at various attractions and booths. Arthur spoils Miles rotten with treats, toys, and


    For a little while, it feels like we''re a real family. It feels as if we''re almost making up for all of the years we spent apart, or better


    yet, as if we were never apart at all.


    And if I really try not to think about the hats covering our heads or the


    sunsses hiding Arthur''s eyes from the public, I can


    Imagine us having spent thest five years together, just like this, smiling and


    happy and doing all the things that a normal family would do.


    But once again, the moment doesn''tst long. Because as we''re passing by a gift shop, a rack of magazines catches my eye-with one of them disying a perfectly posed photograph of Arthur and Selina together.


    "The Alpha President and his Luna," the headline reads, cutting behind the


    perfect blonde locks cascading across Selina''s


    shoulders. "Wedding ns, Mansion Tour, and More!"


    I slow, pausing to look at the image. There''s no denying it: she looks as stunning


    as ever, her lips a vibrant red, her eyes soft and


    serene. Her teeth are perfectly straight and pearly white, and she''s wearing a blush pink dress that makes her look like a princess.


    .20 Bonus


    And what''s worse, she''s holding Arthur''s arm with her engagement ring on disy.


    That enormous, gaudy diamond looks like a mockery. I swear I can feel it staring at me as if it has eyes of its own.


    Arthur, for his part, looks utterly stoic and handsome as hell in the image. His jawline is sharp, not a hint of stubble to be seen, not a hair out of ce. His suit strains ever so slightly across his shoulders and biceps, just enough sex appeal to sell to the


    masses, while portraying this polished, pristine family man.


    Only to the rest of the world, he doesn''t have a family. Not yet, anyway.


    Once more, it''s just a reminder that I''ll never view him as being the real father of my child-that even days like this won''t count


    for all the years he missed because he preferred her over what we could have had.


    "Mommy, look!"


    Miles'' voice pulls me out of my bitter reverie, and I turn to see him standing hand-in-hand with Arthur a little ways away,


    pointing at one of those kiddie rides with the spinning teacups. I force a smile and make my way over to them, and we climb onto


    the open cup that the attendant picks out for us.


    As the teacups spinzily around the track, Miles hums happily, his little fingers dancing across the rim of the cup. I tilt my head back, letting the cool air soothe my flushed skin. It''s hotter than I expected it to be today, and in the spots where my hair has


    be stuck to the back of my neck from sweat, the air feels nice and cold.


    Ten my eyes to so


    But as I rest there, my eyes shut, I feel someone watching me. Arthur sitting on the other side of the teacup,


    his elbows braced on his knees.

 Chapter 39

    He''s staring at me. Intensely.


    +20 Bonus


    I almost tell him to stop staring, but I don''t-because there''s something in his gaze that gives me pause. Something soft and


    tender, simr to the look on his face when he was gazing at that painting earlier. Something that reminds me of the man I once


    loved.


    It makes me wonder if that man is still inside of him, somewhere, somehow. And maybe he''s just trapped, trapped by this


    strange, picture-perfect shell of an Alpha President, and he''s trying to get out.


    But that''s ridiculous. Arthur was like this before he officially became the President of Ordan. He was just biding his time, using me for physicalfort while he campaigned, and now he''s only doing this to get that physicalfort back-as well as his heir.


    We spend the remainder of the afternoon enjoying the park, and I put on a smile for Miles'' sake. By midday, Miles is exhausted enough to fall asleep in Arthur''s arms, his head lolling against Arthur''s shoulder.


    The sight makes my chest ache all over again.


    As we make our way back to the car, Arthur turns to me with that look in his eyes.


    I know where this is about to go before he even


    says it.


    "I hope today changed your mind," he says, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Miles. "Let me buy you and our son a bl


    big


    house. We''ll spend plenty of days just like this."


    The thought of more days acting like a happy little family makes my heart flutter, but it also fills me with a sense of dread. Yeah, sure, plenty more days wearing disguises because he can''t bring himself to have a human mate.


    "I already said no, Arthur," I reiterate, crossing my arms. "I''m financially stable on my own, and I like our new apartment. And


    besides, Miles is my son, not yours."


    Arthur''s jaw clenches, and he looks like he''s about to say something else. But just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he


    pulls it out to nce at the caller ID.


    "Selina," he answers the phone, and just the sound of her name on his lips makes my blood pressure spike. "Yeah, I''ll be there. I


    just need to finish wrapping something up. See you soon."


    Wrapping something up. Like Miles and I are an errand.


    He hangs up the phone and turns to me, opening his mouth as if to make some excuse, but I hold my hand up. "Your fiancee needs you. And I need to get Miles home."


    again, 1


    Arthur stares at me for a moment, but then nods and carefully buckles the still- sleeping Miles into his car seat. Once a can''t help but wonder if Arthur and Selina are nning on having a child, and that''s why he just so happens to have a car seat and


    a child-sized hat, but I quickly push the thoughts away.


    +20 Bonus


    It''s not long before we''re pulling up in front of the apartment again. I get Miles out myself, cradling him against my chest as I


    hesitate on the sidewalk.


    "Thanks,¡± I say, chewing my lip. "For today. I''m sure Miles appreciates it."


    Arthur nces at the sleeping boy in my arms, then at me, and for the briefest of moments, there''s that tender look in his eyes


    again. But it''s gone just as quickly as it came, and with no more than a curt nod and a gruff, "Goodbye, Iris," he gets back in his


    car and pulls away.


    I don''t wait for him to be out of sight before I head inside. But only once I''m alone, Miles still out cold in my arms, do I finally let


    out the shuddering breath I''ve been holding. When I blink, and the mirror on the entryway wall materializes before me, I realize


    that my vision clouded with tears at some point.


    And staring back at me is my reflection, still wearing that stupid baseball hat.


    If only today could have been real. If only we could have gone


    away from us.


    Then it might have been perfect.


    out, a happy little family, no disguises, no Selina pulling Arthur


    But that''s not the case. None of it was real, and I know that Arthur only did any of


    this to get what he wants, nothing more. He


    can''t even be his true self with us his face must be a perfect mask.


    Wearing the same smile he carefully crafted for the cover of that magazine.


    Perfect, poised, and hollow.

 Chapter 40

    Iris


    -20 Bonus


    By dinnertime, Miles is bouncing with energy from his nap. We take our seats at the dinner table, digging into a saucy pasta dish


    with glistening chicken breast and vibrant vegetables. Miles happily twirls his pasta around on his fork, his tongue stuck out in concentratio


    For a few moments, we just enjoy the quiet, listening to the faint sound of ssical music ying on the radio and the city bustling below.


    It feels like we never left home in Bo''Arrocan, although it''s much quieter there. The coastalmunity where I raised Miles is


    more peaceful, the scent of seaweed and salt drifting through the air. It was a nice change from the hustle of Ordan.


    But even after five years in Bo''Arrocan, I missed the noise of Ordan. Now, sitting here at our dining table, I feel more content than


    I have in some time.


    Even if Arthur is out there with his stic smile stered across every billboard and magazine cover.


    Miles is still clutching his stuffed shark in hisp. It already has tomato sauce sttered on it, but that doesn''t seem to bother


    him. I watch him slurp his pasta with a smirk on my face, knowing fully well that that shark is going tost all of three weeks


    before it looks like it''s been run through a garbage disposal.


    Suddenly, Miles looks up at me with that glint in his eyes that tells me that he has


    a bombshell to drop. I suppress a sigh as he


    says, "When can we see Daddy again?"


    I''m


    not sure w


    to say. I''ve already lied and told him that Arthur isn''t his father, and no amount of trying to rationalize it by


    telling myself that Arthur isn''t really Miles'' father, at least not in the way that counts, will change that. Nothing will convince


    Miles, either.


    "Do you really want to see him again?" I ask, even though I already know the


    answer.


    Miles nods vehemently. "I had so much fun today! He''s so tall, too. When he gave me a piggyback ride, I felt like I was flying."


    I set my fork down and reach for my ss of red wine, suddenly feeling like I


    need the alcohol to dull my frayed nerves. Taking a


    sip, I reply, "He made quite the impression on you, huh?"


    Miles nods, shoveling another messy forkful of pasta into his mouth and staining


    his cheeks red with the sauce. It''s strange,


    seeing him click so quickly with someone he barely knows.


    When I hired his babysitter, it was an extremely rough start. He seemed to hate her, often kicking and screaming whenever I


    would leave or even goingpletely nonverbal at times. It took over a year to get him to the point where he is now with her, and


    it was such a struggle that I''m almost considering flying her out here to Ordan just to babysit whenever I need to go out without


    Miles.


    And then there''s Brian, Liam, and the twins. Miles has grown up so far with the twins, so they''re pretty much siblings to him.


    +20 Bonus


    And Brian and Liam are like his adoptive fathers, and have always doted on him since birth.


    But with Arthur, it''s... different.


    Even human children, of course, have innate affection for their parents. It''s hardwired into our brains, an ancient survival instinct to be able to tell safety from strangers.


    Werewolves are different, though. When they scent their kin, it''s like they imprint on them. Miles is only half-werewolf, so it


    isn''t as pronounced as it might be with a full-blooded child, but it''s still there.


    I hope, for everyone''s sake, that he hasn''t immediatelytched onto Arthur. But it is clear that Arthur has impacted Miles very


    quickly, and now it''s going to be trouble trying to convince Miles that we don''t actually need to spend that much time together.


    Still, I manage to say, "I''ll consider it," and that seems to satisfy Miles for now.


    As I kiss Miles and tuck him into bedter, though, I feel my heart wrench with regret all over again. I want him to have a


    rtionship with his father, truly.


    It''s just... There are so many factors to consider, so many horrible things that have happened, that I''m not sure if I can bring


    myself to say yes.


    Maybe that''s selfish of me, but I can''t help it.

 Chapter 41

    The next morning, after a sleepless night of tossing and turning and mulling over what to do regarding Miles and Arthur, I get


    dressed to go to Marsiel Gallery. I have a meeting today to finally sign my patronage contract, which is a wee distraction


    from everything else. Miles will be spending the day with Brian and his family.


    However, as I''m pulling on my yellow sweater and a pair of jeans, my phone rings. It''s an unknown caller ID, and I ignore it


    Instinctively, assuming it''s a scam caller. But when they call a second time immediately after, I finally pick up.


    "Hello?"


    "Iris?"


    "Who is this?"


    "This is Alpha Arthur''s Beta, Ezra," the voice replies, and I suppress a groan. "Alpha Arthur has asked me to call you to ask if


    you''ll meet him for dinner tonight, just the two of you. I can pick you up at eight."


    My eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why does he want to go out for dinner?" I ask. Ezra hesitates for a moment before replying, "He just wants to talk."


    Talk Right. He''s probably just going to try to offer me more money, or maybe tell me that I''m not doing a good enough job


    raising Miles, or-


    "Mommy, are you going out with Daddy tonight?" Miles suddenly asks.


    I whirl to see Miles standing in his bedroom doorway, rubbing his sleepy eyes, still


    in his pajamas with that stuffed shark


    clutched to his chest. He looks... hopeful. And the sight breaks my heart.


    "No, honey, I-"


    "I think you should go, Mommy," he says, meeting my gaze sternly-Goddess, he really looks like his father when he does that.


    "You don''t smile as much as you do when you''re with him."


    Miles'' words make my heart pause in my chest. I clutch the phone a little tighter, hardly daring to believe it. Yesterday, I thought I was rather sullen, and yet...


    "Please?" Miles asks.


    I sigh, passing my hand over my face. The Beta is silent on the other end of the phone, waiting for my response.


    It''s not that I want to go out to dinner with Arthur, not one bit, but I can''t help but wonder if he has something important to tell me. And if he wants to go out to a nice restaurant, just the two of us, then maybe...


    What if I get an apology? A sincere one, with a promise to make everything right?


    I still hate him for what he did; and I won''t get over it for a long, long time. But if he apologized, truly apologized, then maybe...


    +20 Bonus


    Maybe we could co-parent Miles, at the very least. I want that for my son, truly. More than anything, I want him to have a father who loves him, even if I can''t bring myself to get back together with Arthur.


    It feels a little too hopeful to assume that that''s why Arthur''s inviting me out, but I ept the invitation before I can think better


    of it.


    A little whileter, I''m at the art gallery, signing my contract. The patron is still anonymous, but it doesn''t matter; I''m just happy to be moving forward in my art career, and looking forward to the next exhibition.


    The curator informs me that the gallery will be holding an event in theing weeks, where she''d like me to give a short speech and mingle as ''Flora''. I happily ept, and am genuinely excited to attend.


    This feels like a big step in my career. A huge one. And I can''t wait to see what this year has in store for me.


    However, when eight o''clock rolls around, my excitement turns into nervous anticipation. The Beta, Ezra, picks me up right on time and takes me to the restaurant. I''m surprised, or perhaps not that surprised at all, to find that it''s hardly more than a dive


    bar on the south end of the city.


    Suddenly, as I step into the smoky atmosphere of the dimly lit restaurant, I feel overdressed in my sleek ck dress and heels.


    Why would he pick a ce like this?


    And why, most of all, did I assume that he would do anything more?


    I''m almost considering turning around and leaving when I spot him sitting at a


    table in the corner, wearing that damn disguise


    again.

 Chapter 42

    Iris


    I consider turning around and leaving the bar, but Arthur spots me before I have a chance, and


    waves me over. Partially driven by curiosity and maybe slightly driven by the mate bond tugging


    on me insistently, I sigh and make my way over to him.


    "Iris," he says, standing as 1 approach. He pulls my chair out for me, as if we''re in a fancy


    restaurant. "You came."


    I take my seat, trying my best to ignore the sensation of goosebumps raising on my exposed


    skin as his eyes skim across my outfit. I''m not sure why I assumed that Arthur would invite me,


    his sordid human mistress, to a nice enough ce for a dress like this.


    Wishful thinking, I guess. The sort of thinking I thought I squashed like a bug over the past five


    years, but it still asionally rears its ugly head.


    "Your Beta said you wanted to talk," I say.


    Arthur nods, then waves over the waiter. He orders a cocktail for himself, then gestures to me.


    "Water, please," I say, to which Arthur responds with a raised eyebrow.


    "Just water?"


    "Yes. Just water."


    "I''ll pay for more."


    "I don''t want more."


    Arthur seems to give up and sighs, signalling the waiter to leave. Once we''re alone, there''s a


    brief, ufortable silence. I try not to fidget too much in my chair.


    Finally, I nce around the smokey, dim-lit bar and say, "Why did you choose this ce?"


    +20 Bonus


    Arthur shrugs. "It''s an ideal spot for not being recognized. It''s packed, dark, and the patrons here aren''t likely to look too


    closely."


    "Right," I say slowly, suddenly regretting agreeing to this at all. It''s obvious to me that my brief moment of hope that he might actually try to make things right waspletely misguided. "So this is the ideal sort of ce to bring your mistress."


    +20 Bonus


    With that, I grab my purse and move to get up, not intending to continue this conversation any further. "Goodbye, Arthur."


    "Wait-Iris, where are you going? You just got here."


    I shoot him a withering re. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that I have no interest in being your human mistress. Honestly, I shouldn''t have evene here."


    To my surprise, Arthur actually looks... confused. As if he didn''t invite me to a dive bar, in disguise no less, after everything that has happened between us. "Why do you keep referring to yourself as my mistress?" he asks.


    I blink at him, incredulous. Is he ying dumb? I know he''s not actually that dull.


    Still, curiosity gets the better of me once again, and I ce one hand on my hip, saying, ¡°Just tell me why you wanted to meet and


    then I''ll leave."


    Arthur hesitates for a moment, his mouth working as if he''s struggling with what to say. I make no effort to hide my impatience


    as I wait. Finally, he says, "You signed a contract at Marsiel today, didn''t you?"


    I frown, although something begins to twist ufortably in my stomach. "How do you know about that?"


    Arthur gestures for me to sit, and for some reason, I do. I think it''s because my legs are beginning to tremble ever so slightly.


    "Now that you''ve signed it," he says without answering my question, "I guess it''s time you know the truth. It''s only fair."


    "Know what, Arthur?" I hate the way my voice shakes.


    He levels me with a knowing look. "I''m your patron, Iris."


    His words hit me like a freight train. My mouth drops open, my heart stopping in my


    chest. At that moment, the waiter brings our drinks, but I''m suddenly not feeling very thirsty.


    "Oh, Goddess," I breathe, jumping to my feet. "It was you? You were the ''anonymous patron"?"


    "Iris, 1-"


    "Save it," I hiss through clenched teeth. "It''s bad enough that you seem to think I''m just a shallow gold digger content with being your side piece, but this? Tricking me into epting money from you? Did you think this would convince me to sleep with


    you again?"

 Chapter 43

    "I did it because I love your work," he says calmly. "Iris, sit down. You''re drawing unwanted attention."


    II scoff, refusing to sit. "Fuck your attention. And I''m calling bullshit, because if you even understood the nature of my work, your would have known better than to use your wealth and status as a weapon against me."


    Before he can answer, I turn on my heel and storm out of the bar. The cold night air ps me across the face as I burst out onto


    the-street, and people are staring, but I hardly notice.


    All this time, I thought that the anonymous patron was a genuine lover of the arts, of my art. I thought that my career was


    making strides, that I was finally being noticed by the higher-ups in the art world.


    vet, it was Arthur. Fucking Arthur.


    And yet,


    I feel like I''m going to be sick. Stopping to breathe, I grip a nearby stop sign, hunching over to


    get air into my lungs..


    "Iris!"


    Arthur''s voice makes me feel nauseous all over again, and I straighten, picking up my pace


    once more. But then he''s in front of me again, blocking my way.


    "Move," I growl, trying to resist the urge to p him.


    "Iris, listen to me." Arthur moves wherever I move, blocking me from making my way down the


    street. "You''re not thinking straight."


    I scoff. "I''m thinking perfectly ''straight''. You only gave me that patronage to make mepliant,


    didn''t you? Did you think that I was going toe crawling back to you once I realized that you


    were the anonymous donor?"


    "No," he growls, clearly growing agitated. "And if you would just listen to me¡ª"


    "I''m tired of listening to you," I cut him off, my voice rising slightly. "Frankly, Arthur,


    I can''t tell if bing Alpha President changed you, if she changed you, or if you''ve always been like this and I was just too stupid to realize."


    His eyes narrow. "Like what?"


    "A self-righteous prick who thinks that all human women are nothing but gold diggers who are content with being paid concubines," I retort. "Perhaps some people are like that, sure, but not me. I thought you knew me well enough to know that I didn''t need money to love you. Even if we had been on the streets, so long as we had each other, I would have been happy!"


    By now, tears are in my eyes, clouding my vision and turning the amber street lights blurry. But I keep going, backing toward the


    +20 Bonus


    curb as I speak.


    "You chose her over me," I choke out, shaking my head. "Despite everything, despite how much I cared for you, despite how


    much I sacrificed to help you with your campaign, you chose her. Because you only saw me as worthy of being your human sex


    doll, sordid and secret. And you still see me that way."


    Arthur blinks, almost as if he didn''t expect me to say that. "Wait, Iris="


    "You broke my heart, Arthur," I go on, stepping into the street. "I won''t forgive you. And I won''t let you hurt me anymore."


    Before he can answer, I turn and flee into the street. All I can think about is getting away, putting as much distance between us as


    possible. I need to find a cab, a bus, anything-anything to never have to see him again.


    But in my haste and despair, I forget to look before I cross the street. And a momentter, the bright re of headlights fills my


    vision, the loud re of a car horn blocking out all other sound.


    I freeze, turning, and stare at the car as it screeches toward me.

 Chapter 44

    I''m frozen as the car barrels toward me. Frozen in space


    time, body. The driver is mming on the brakes, the air filling with the


    sound of tires screeching, but there isn''t enough time for the car to stop before it


    hits me.


    All 1 can do is wait, bracing myself for impact. And all I can think about is Miles, who will never understand why his mother left.


    him


    But then, suddenly, something ms into me¡ªand it''s not the car. It''s Arthur''s warm, sturdy body.


    We m to the pavement on the other side of the street, cold, damp asphalt biting into my back through the thin fabric of my


    dress. The world blurs, ebbing and flowing briefly at the edges as my head hits the ground, but I''m alive.


    Alive.


    Breathless, I stare up at Arthur, who''s sandwiching me against the ground. Our chests heave against one another, and although I


    can faintly hear the sound of shouts, brakes squealing, and car doors mming in the distance, I can''t tear my gaze away from


    his.


    In this moment, something hot and fiery flickers to life inside of me. It''s the same thing that ignited that night we kissed in the alley, when his hands roamed across every familiar contour of my body like we''d never been apart.


    But it''s different now, more tender and yet somehow more intense at the same time.


    Nothing in the world matters more than my mate in this moment. My entire universe could fill with the green color of his panicked eyes, the feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around me, the warmth of his body cocooning me.


    I want him more than anything. Without even meaning to, my eyes flick to his lips, yearning to close the sliver of distance between us and kiss him. It''s a primal, almost irresistible urge driven by the intense mate bond that we share, and I know he feels


    it, too.


    But then reality returns as the driveres skidding to a halt beside us. "Holy shit, are you okay? Why did you jump out in the


    street like that?"


    I blink, shaking off the spell that briefly overtook me. "L..." Arthur pulls back and helps me sit up, and I press my fingers into my temple. When I pull them away, there''s a bit of blood on my fingertips from scraping against the pavement, but otherwise I feel


    fine. "I''m sorry. I just forgot..."


    Before I can finish, Arthur pulls me close again and begins to check me over. He turns my head this way and that, inspecting me


    for injury.


    His touch is tender, but I have to remind myself that he''s likely only worried that if I got hurt, it would weaken him as well due to


    our mate bond. If a werewolf''s mate gets injured, especially if their mate is a human, then they''ll sustain simr injuries.


    And the Alpha President of Ordan can''t show any weakness, after all,


    "I''m fine,¡± I mutter, waving off the driver''s offer to call an ambnce. "Really, I''m fine."


    +20 Bonus


    Both Arthur and the driver don''t look entirely convinced, but don''t press. I stand, and my legs are a little wobbly, but I think it''s


    mostly from fear and adrenaline rather than injury. Arthur''s hands linger on my arms. I harden myself to his touch and try to pull


    away, refusing to let our bond manipte me again.


    However, Arthur doesn''t let go. His face is grim as he carefully scoops me up into his arms, ignoring my protests while he carries


    me-over to a nearby bench. He sets me down like I''m made of ss, and by now, my cheeks are bright red.


    "I''m fine," I reiterate under my breath. "Really. Thank you for saving me."


    Arthur takes a seat next to me, and for a moment we just sit there in stunned silence, still catching our breath. His disguise is still


    in ce or maybe he just picked up his hat and quickly tugged it back on before anyone could see who he was, despite our near-


    death experience. I''m not really sure if I want to know.


    After a few moments, Arthur turns to me. "Will you talk to me now? It''s the least you can do after I saved your life."


    I purse my lips, but realize he''s sort of right. "Fine," I mutter.


    Arthur takes a deep breath. "You keep calling yourself my mistress, iming that I


    chose Selina over you," he says. "But that


    couldn''t be further from the truth."


    I narrow my eyes but let him continue.


    "Selina.... Our ''marriage'' is nothing but a political arrangement," he goes on, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.


    "I''m not in love with her, Iris. I never was. We literally just signed a contract to get married and appear as such in public because her family is extremely powerful. And besides, Ordan isn''t... ready for a human Luna."

 Chapter 45

    "Likely story," I snort, trying to stand. But Arthur grabs my wrist and pulls me back down.


    "I''m serious, Iris. I only ever loved you. I was going to tell you everything, but you ran off and I couldn''t find you, no matter how


    hard I looked. I thought you took money and went and had an abortion."


    For a moment, I''m just stunned to find out the truth. I want to assume that Arthur is lying, just trying to manipte me, but


    when I look into his eyes... I see nothing but sincerity. Still, his assumptions about me hurt. I never took any money. And I never


    even dreamed of having an abortion. I wanted Miles from the moment I found out I was pregnant.


    I swallow hard and murmur, "Why didn''t you tell me from the beginning that you were nning on making this arrangement


    with her?"


    Arthur


    stares at me "u"


    "I was going to."


    "But not soon enough," I reply quickly. "You should have consulted me before agreeing to it. I might have considered it back then.


    if only I had been kept in the loop."


    He keeps staring at me, and I go on, "I only left because I was hurt. Because you broke my heart. And for what it''s worth, I left penniless. If it weren''t for Brian and Liam''s help, I would have been homeless. It''s only thanks to them that I survived, got my degree, and earned enough money to support myself and Miles."


    As I say this, though, my heart turns bitter again. I press my lips into a thin line and continue, "After five years of working my ass off just to be able to stand on my own two feet, I thought that my art career was finally taking off in a big way. But you are the


    ''anonymous patron''."


    I can''t decide if I wish he''d remained anonymous or not.


    "Iris, I only wanted to be your patron to apologize," Arthur cuts in. "It was Selina''s


    family who tried to shut down the gallery, and I wanted to make it up to you because I know how hard you worked. It was never meant to bribe you."


    I grit my


    teeth and look away. No matter how logical his excuse seems, it still doesn''t feel like enough. He still thought his


    apology was best given in the form of cash, just like how he tried to offer me money to get back together with him.


    But then Arthur adds softly, "It''s only you and Miles who hold my heart. Never Selina. Come back to me, Iris."


    For a moment, just a moment, the thought of us being together again thrills me. All I ever wanted was for us to be a happy, loving family. To be with my mate and give my son two parents who loved each other.


    But I can''t. I won''t.


    Shaking my head, I stand, and this time I don''t let him pull me back down even though my legs are still wobbling.


    "No, Arthur," I assert firmly. "Maybe five years ago, I would have agreed to something like this. But I''ve changed. I''ve grown up. And I won''t be the human woman who will only ever be viewed as a homewrecker. Furthermore, I won''t be content with being


    loved in private while you and Selina disy your affection in public, no matter how fake it is."


    20 Bonus


    Arthur looks up at me, his brow furrowing with what I can only describe as pain. But I hold my ground, knowing that I''ve made ther


    right decision. No matter how much it hurts to say goodbye to my mate for a second time, I simply can''t ept being Arthur''s


    secret family.


    I can''t do that to Miles.


    "Goodbye, Arthur," I say, and this time, I hope I won''t have to say it ever again.


    Arthur doesn''t stop me as I turn and hail a cab, although he follows me and opens the door for me. I hardly look at him as I slide


    into the seat, not because I don''t want to, but because I can''t


    As the cab drives away, I can''t quite tell if Arthur''s form fading behind us is from the tears in my eyes or the distance.


    He still loves me, even after all these years. He never stopped loving me. Or so


    he says.


    In a strange way, I''m d to know the truth now. But even so, I can''t help but wonder if returning to Ordan was a mistake after all. I''m not sure if it was better to go the rest of my life believing he didn''t love me, or to know that he does still love me but still


    chose the worst oue for our rtionship.


    Would I have been happier not knowing at all, and going the rest of my life hating him?

 Chapter 46

    Iris


    To my surprise, Arthur doesn''t reach out for the remainder of the week. I''m not


    entirely sure if he''s actually choosing to let me


    go or if he''s simply giving me space, but whatever it is, I''ll take it.


    In the meantime, I consider my living situation here in Ordan.


    Miles and I love it here, truly. Even just in the short amount of time that we''ve


    been here, Miles has been happier than ever. I''m


    already considering a nice school in our neighborhood, and city life suits us much more than the quiet, coastal life that


    Bo''Arrocan offers.


    If we stay, my art career might also thrive more than it ever did in Bo''Arrocan. Ordan has always been big on the arts, and there are a lot more opportunities here in general since it''s a bigger city.


    But of course, there''s the obvious: Arthur.


    Not only do I run the risk of seeing him while living here in Ordan-not just in person but also having to see his face stered. across every television, poster, and billboard-but there''s also the risk of being recognized myself.


    Now that word has begun to spread that the Alpha President of Ordan has a human mate, I''m at a much higher risk of being seen. And if people find out that Arthur not only has a human mate but a son with said human mate while he''s supposed to be marrying


    Selina, then it will only make matters worse.


    For Miles'' sake, I don''t want that to happen. Having to face public scrutiny is bad enough for me, but I''d never wish that sort of thing upon my son. They''ll eat him alive.


    I do know, though, that Arthur also values Miles'' safety and happiness. He won''t want Miles to be recognized either. But Alpha


    males are also... Intense when ites to their mates.


    Arthur has already proven multiple times just how far he''s willing to go for my attention. He won''t let go easily, and there''s a good chance he''ll keep trying to initiate contact between us as long as I live here, at the risk of all three of us being found out.


    I don''t me him entirely, of course. It''s just in his nature-werewolves are already intensely attracted to their mates to begin with, and Alphas not only have powerful gics that make them even more so, but they''re also systematically raised in this society to dominate and take what''s ''theirs''.


    So of course, as long as I''m living in Ordan, there''s a risk that Miles and I will be discovered simply due to Arthur''s insistence un


    seeing us. I''m not sure if that''s a risk I''m willing to take, mostly for fear of the bacsh.


    After all, I meant it when I told Arthur that I won''t allow myself to be viewed as the human homewrecker. Humans are already looked down upon, even though our society has improved its social structure in recent decades.


    Once, humans were literally at the bottom of the food chain, treated like lesser beings simply for ourck of wolves. Things are far better now, and we have equal rights pretty much across the board, but many werewolves still view us as inferior.


    +20 Bonus


    Being a human homewrecker, to the Alpha President no less, is just a recipe for disaster.


    However, the most obvious course of action-leaving Ordan-would hurt Miles greatly. I don''t want to uproot him again, and furthermore, he keeps asking about Arthur. He''s clearly imprinted on him, and the thought of never letting him see his father


    again-especially now that I know the truth about what happened-breaks my


    heart.


    For a while, I consider remaining in Ordan but backing out of the patronage contract. At least then I won''t be under Arthur''s thumb financially, and can move on in that regard. But then I''d potentially be without a steady ie, which would be just as


    bad


    Over the following week, I spend almost all of my waking hours considering my options, not sure what to do. My constant stress


    impacts my artwork, making it hard toplete any pieces that aren''t jumbled and sloppy.


    On Friday, I make my way to Marsiel Gallery with my newest piece in tow. My fears are solidified when the curator, Alice, furrows


    her brow as she looks at the piece.


    It''s a confusing mess of lines and colors, and everything blurs together into a muddy brown slop at the center. It was supposed to be an image of bloody strawberries on top of waffles, but it doesn''t even look remotely edible.

 Chapter 47

    "Iris," Alice says, turning to me, "no offense, but... Are you alright? This is..." Her voice trails off.


    I swallow hard. "Not my best work, is it?"


    "No, it''s not. Is something going on? You know you can talk to me..."


    Her concern is touching, but I shake my head, gathering my art. I make some excuse and promise to bring her something better


    as soon as I can, and leave the gallery with my proverbial tail tucked between my legs.


    I''m barely out the door before a voice catches my attention.


    "You! Hey, you! Are you the human mate of the Alpha President? Is it true that you have a son? What''s his name?"


    Shit


    Slowly, I turn to see a woman with a wild look stered across her face rushing toward me. She recognizes me. And somehow,


    she knows about Miles.


    Cursing under my breath, I turn around only to find that two other people have noticed the disruption, and are moving toward me as well. "You have a son together?!" one of them shouts. I can''t tell if they''re happy or furious. "When was he conceived?"


    "Not while our President and Lady Selina were together, I hope," another adds, curling his lip angrily.


    The first woman moves forward, breathless. "Is the boy a human or a werewolf? I hope he''s a werewolf, because if he''s a human.


    Suddenly, Brian''s cares screeching up to the curb. I don''t hesitate for so much as a moment before I quickly jump into the


    passenger side, instructing him to drive away. He peels away from the curb just as more people are running up to the car, and only once they''re out of sight do I let out a breath of terrified relief.


    "I think I need to leave," I blurt out. "For good. Moving here was a mistake. They know about Miles."


    Brian looks concerned, but this isn''t new to him. He''s been my sounding board over the past week, listening to all of my struggles


    and offering insight whenever possible.


    "Like I said," he says gently, "Liam and I are heading back to Bo''Arrocan in a week''s time. If you really don''t want to be here


    anymore, you know you''re wee toe with us. And live with us, if you need a ce to crash until you find a new


    apartment."


    e summer and


    I nod, recalling as such. Brian and Liam typically split their time between the two countries,ing here for the


    then returning to Bo''Arrocan in the fall, with a few visits in between. I could return with them. At least then Miles and I wouldn''t


    be making the journey on our own.


    "Fuck it," 1 whisper, shaking my head. "I can''t risk people finding out about Miles. They''ll never let it go."


    +30 Bonus


    Brian doesn''t argue, because he knows it''s true. I''ve only been here with Miles for


    a few weeks, and already people are learning of


    his existence. This was never what I wanted, and it''s going to turn dangerous all


    too quickly. I can''t let my son live in fear, even if


    it means uprooting our new lives and starting over again.


    I clench my jaw and slip out my phone, sending a quick email to my oldndlord.


    A couple hourster, I receive an email back,


    stating that my old ce is still avable and that I''m wee to return.


    Without thinking twice, I quickly begin to make arrangements to leave. I know it''s going to be tough, and I''ll be in a bit of a financial bind having to pull out of the patronage and pay the fees to my Ordanndy for moving out before the lease is up, but


    I don''t care.


    I need to get out of here. If people already know about Miles, then it''s for the best.


    But when I tell Miles that we''re moving, he doesn''t take it well. He doesn''t say anything, doesn''t throw a tantrum, just goes


    silent, tears streaming down his cheeks, and goes to his room.


    Seeing him go nonverbal for the first time in over a year breaks my heart. He hasn''t gotten this bad in so long, and it feels like it''s


    all my fault


    But I know he''ll get over it, heal with time. And someday, when he''s older, he''ll understand why I had to make this decision.


    After all, it''s for his own good.

 Chapter 48

    +20 Bonus


    Over the following few days, Iunch myself into my preparations to leave Ordan.


    Miles doesn''t speak during those days. Not a single word. It breaks my heart over every time I have to look at his


    ad over aest


    sad little face, and I feel like a horrible mother.


    But I know, someday, he''ll understand why I had to do this. I have to protect him from the onught of public attention he''ll get


    if his identity is discovered, most of which will be negative. I can''t bear to see him being followed and harassed in public, just as I


    have been, simply for being the product of a human and a wolf.


    And so I get to work preparing to leave.


    Thendy in Ordan is understanding, but puts her foot down when ites to our lease-breaking fees and security deposit. I


    have to pay a few hundred Ordan dors in fees, and my security deposit will never be seen again.


    Not that I can me her, of course. I did sign a year lease, and I''m backing out of it less than a month in. So I don''t argue when


    she regretfully tells me that she won''t be giving the deposit back.


    Unfortunately, however, that-in conjunction with having to send a first month''s rent and a new security deposit to my oldndlord in Ordan-puts me in more than a bit of a financial bind.


    Brian offers to buy our ne tickets back to Bo''Arrocan, but I refuse, feeling that it''s necessary to face the consequences of this decision myself. He isn''t pleased with that, but doesn''t stop me from purchasing the tickets once he realizes I''m not going to


    back down.


    I do manage to sell our new furniture, though, which is a bit of a relief. But I don''t get back everything I initially paid for it, and


    even when Brian and Liam stoutly refuse to take the money back on the furniture they purchased for me, it doesn''t feel like


    nearly enough to make ends meet.


    In a way, it feels like I''m starting all over again. But I keep telling myself that I''m making the right decision, that Miles'' future


    will be better for this.


    After settling the apartment matter, I contact Arthur''swyer and set up a meeting to cancel the contract. I''ll have to fly back to


    Ordan in a couple of months for the meeting, but I don''t think much of it. There isn''t anything stated in the contract that I''m not


    allowed to leave the country.


    The curator, Alice, however, doesn''t take it well at all.


    "You''re leaving?" she asks, her brown eyes widening. "But you just got here! And the patronage-"


    "I''m pulling out of the patronage," I exin. "I''m sorry, Alice, but I can''t put my son at risk. I hope you understand."


    Her face falls, but she nods. "I understand. But... Are you sure there''s nothing I can do to make you stay?"


    +20 Bonus


    My throat tightens. I have to hold my ground, no matter what. "I''m sorry, but I''ve made my decision already. I can''t stay here.


    Alice stares at the floor for a moment, looking crestfallen, but finally agrees to let me go. We exchange hugs and goodbyes, and I


    blink back tears as I leave the gallery for thest time.


    With that finished, I finally purchase my tickets back to Bo''Arrocan, pack Miles'' and my things, and bide my time until the day of


    the flightes.


    The dayes sooner than I anticipated. The following Tuesday, bright and early, I head to the airport with Brian, Liam, the


    twins, and the still-silent Miles in tow. He''s dragging his feet behind me, refusing to speak or hold anyone''s hand, his miniature


    dinosaur suitcase bumping across the airport tiles.


    Brian, Liam and I exchange sad nces as we make our way to the security line.


    "He''ll be okay," Liam whispers, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Once you''re back in Bo''Arrocan, he''ll see all his old friends and forget all about this."


    I frown up at Liam, and there''s a moment in which we both realize how unlikely that is. Miles isn''t like most kids. He never


    and he rarely forgives. And this... Going nonverbal for a whole week straight is concerning.


    forgets,


    "Brian touches my arm. "I know you''re going to say it, but don''t you dare. You''re not a bad mother."


    "Hey."


    Still, as I look over at my heartbroken son, twiddling his feet and staring at the floor, I certainly feel like one.


    After that, Briam and Liam go through security with the twins, taking off their shoes and walking through the scanners without a


    hitch. This is it.

 Chapter 49

    +20 Bonus


    "Next!" the security officer calls out.


    I say


    "Miles, buddy, it''s our turn," I say gently, holding out my hand. "Come on, let''s take our shoes off. Remember how much fun you hadst time we did this? Getting to walk through the big scanner?"


    Miles suddenly stops, his big eyes turning as wide as saucers as he looks up at the stern security officer. He looks around at the line of people, the buckets of shoes and bags going through the scanners, the woman on the other end checking people with a handheld wand.


    And then, out of nowhere, he just... snaps.


    One moment Miles is standing upright, holding his little dinosaur carry-on, and the next he''s on the floor, kicking and screaming and pounding his fists.


    Everyone turns to look at us. Brian and Liam try to make their way over, but are stopped by security since they already went


    through the checkpoint.


    "Ma''am, please control your child," the security officer huffs, folding his arms across his chest.


    Sighing, I crouch down to Miles'' level and try to scoop him up. "I know it''s tough, buddy, but we have to-"


    He doesn''t hear me. He just screams even louder and kicks me firmly in the chest, making me lose my breath and drawing the


    attention of half the airport at this point.


    I curse softly, scratching my head. Miles hasn''t thrown a tantrum like this in years, but when they used to be moremon when


    he was a toddler, the best thing to do was to allow him to let it out and then take him somewhere safe to calm down.


    But here, obviously, we don''t have the luxury of doing that. People are staring, security is getting frustrated, and every time I try


    to touch Miles, his screaming just ramps up until it feels like my ears are going to start bleeding.


    "Miles," I say, my voice trembling, "please, let''s just go-"


    More screams. More kicking More frustration.


    "Lady, get out of the way!"


    "Control your kid!"


    "Humans and their unruly spawn..."


    My heart begins to pound. I whirl around, searching for Liam and Brian, who are currently arguing with security. The twins are crying, confused. And Miles is still screaming and ignoring me entirel


    But then, all of a sudden, a familiar presence swoops in. The smell of Arthur''s cologne hits me before I canprehend what''s happening, and a momentter, he materializes and scoops Miles into his arms, bouncing him gently.


    +20 Bonus


    "Shh," Arthur says gently, his eyes shielded by those sunsses of his and his dark hair hidden by a hat. "I''m here, buddy. You''re not going anywhere."


    My eyes widen, lips parting to tell him to put Miles down. But then Miles'' screaming promptly stops, and with a sniffle, he looks up at Arthur and says, "Daddy?"


    Shit. The first word Miles has said in a week, and it''s... Daddy.


    Something about it makes my heart break even more. The way Arthur handles Miles as if he''s known him his whole life, the way Milestches onto him... The way Miles is smiling now, clutching Arthur''s neck.


    Arthur suddenly turns to me. "You''re leaving?" he hisses, pulling me aside. "Why?"


    I narrow my eyes, the magical moment suddenly having passed. "It''s for the best,"


    I say firmly, just as I''ve said a thousand times


    now in the past week. "I''m doing it for his safety."


    "His safety?" Arthur echoes, incredulous. "Iris-''


    "We have to go," I cut him off, reaching for Miles. Brian and Liam are staring, checking their watches on the other side of


    security. "The ne is going to board soon and now I have to get back at the end of the line."


    But when I reach for Miles, he clutches Arthur tighter, shaking his head. "No! I don''t want to go!"


    I hate to say this, but frustrationnces through me. Here''s Arthur, swooping in after not being a part of our lives for five years,


    and suddenly he''s the superhero. Meanwhile, I''ve been toiling all this time, just trying my hardest to make sure Miles was cared


    for.


    But I control myself, not wanting to take it out on Miles. It''s not his fault.


    "You''re not leaving, Iris," Arthur says calmly, and it''s only now that I notice his Beta pushing his way toward us with an official-


    looking document in his hands. ¡°I won''t let you."


    My lips part, but it''s toote. Ezra holds up the paper, and it''s a fucking warrant for my arrest.


    "Iris," Ezra says, handing me the warrant, "you are under arrest by order of the Alpha President of Ordan. Pleasee with us."

 Chapter 50

    It seems I have no choice but to follow Arthur and his Beta out of the airport. They


    lead me out a side door, avoiding being recognized by anyone, where a sleek ck car is waiting for us. The whole way, Miles clings to Arthur like his life depends on it.


    Once we''re inside the car, I turn in my seat to face Arthur, my eyes wide.


    "I''m under arrest?" I blurt out, my voice rising, "Why? I didn''t do anything wrong!!


    Arthur looks at me with the utmost calm and says, "We''ll discuss this in my office." Before I can answer, the driver pulls out of the parking lot, leaving behind the airport and everything that it symbolizes.


    I grit my teeth, remaining silent. Miles continues to cling to Arthur, his small arms wrapped around Arthur''s neck like he never ns on letting go. Arthur is all smiles, rubbing slow circles on Miles'' back to soothe him...


    As I quickly type out an exnation to Brian and Liam, who are texting me frantically by now, I suppress the urge tosh out at Arthur. I''ve never seen anyone be able to calm Miles so quickly during one of his tantrums-hell, I''ve never even been able to do it so efficiently myself.


    Just a few minutes ago, Miles was kicking and screaming on the airport floor, moments away from being escorted out by security. And now he''s perfectly content to y with the brim of Arthur''s baseball cap.


    Not only that, but for the first time in a week, he''s speaking.


    "You came for me, Daddy," he says, beaming up at Arthur. "I knew you would."


    Arthur smiles down at him, and I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces. Of course I''m the bad guy in the situation, the evil mother who tried to tear Miles away from his father. No one will remember that I only did it for Miles'' sake. And now that Arthur is arresting me for some reason, I''m even more bitter.


    Once we arrive at the President''s headquarters, Arthur leads me in through a back entrance and takes me upstairs to his office. It''s just as I remember it-sleek, polished, pristine.....


    Cold


    "Take a seat," Arthur says, gesturing to the chair across from his desk, the very same one I sat in a couple of times before. He sets Miles down and hands him a picture book to upy him.


    Of course, I refuse to sit, I just stand there, my arms folded, waiting for an exnation. And I try not to notice the Beta blocking the door, like I might try to make a run for it.


    olds out to me. Take


    Arthur sighs. "Very well." He sinks down into his chair and pulls a man folder out


    of his desk, which he holds out a look at use Bon page seven."


    I frown, hesitating, but finally snatch the folder away and flip it open to the


    aforementioned page. Arthur leans back in his chair


    +20 Bonus


    and says, "Read it out loud for me, would you?¡±


    "I''ve already read this entire contract front to back," I retort.


    "Humor me."


    I roll my eyes, but read anyway. "The artist agrees not to remove from the country within one year of signing the contract


    regardless of end of contract any property, intellectual or otherwise, belonging to the patron, including but not limited to works of art, creative output, or any assets or interests directly or indirectly associated with the patron''s investment in the artist''s


    career.""


    -When I''m finished, I lift my brows, looking up at Arthur. "Okay," I say slowly, plopping the folder back down on his desk. "And


    what does this have to do with anything?"


    "You''re leaving the country," Arthur says matter-of-factly. "With an asset."


    "What asset?" I ce my hands on my hips. "I haven''t created any art under the patronage since I signed the contract. I only


    signed it a couple weeks ago."

 Chapter 51

    Arthur blinks at me for a moment, as if surprised that I''m not catching whatever it is that he''s implying. Then, his eyes flick to Miles, who is reading happily while swinging his legs in a chair, and my stomach drops.


    "My son is not your property," I growl.


    Arthur just quirks an eyebrow. "Ezra, can you please exin this to Iris?"


    Ezra nods, clearing his throat and stepping forward. "Iris, Miles is often the subject of your artwork. He is also a product of your prior rtionship with Alpha Arthur. Therefore, he actually falls under the ''interests associated with the patron''s investment in the artist''s career''."


    I just stand there for a moment, hardly daring to believe that they''re being serious. Surely this is some kind of practical joke. I almost expect Selina herself to walk in,ughing and pointing at me for falling for it.


    But neither Arthur nor his Beta show a hint of amusement on their faces.


    "What?" blurt out. "First of all, he''s a human being, not an object. Second, you don''t even know if he''s your son."


    The moment the words leave my mouth, I feel my ears redden. It''s a desperate and weak attempt to throw Arthur off, and we all know it.


    Arthur reaches into his desk again and pulls out an envelope. With painstaking slowness, he opens the envelope and withdraws a paper, which he hands to me.


    It''s a DNA test. An official paternity test confirming that Arthur is, indeed, Miles'' father.


    "How..."


    If I didn''t know better, I''d say that Arthur looks slightly sheepish. But only slightly, and the expression is gone just as quickly as it came. "I took a hair sample the day we went to the amusement park," he says.


    My eyes widen. "You bastard."


    Arthur nces at Miles, still absorbed in his book, then back at me. "I had no choice, Iris. I was worried you would try to do something like this. As Miles'' father, I have rights."


    "You''re not his father."


    "The paternity test states otherwise."


    I clench my jaw. "Then I''ll back out of the contract," I say. I had an appointment with yourwyer to handle it."


    "The cause clearly states that you cannot leave the country with any assets for one year after the signing date," Arthur says. "Even if you back out, as stated, the use will still be in effect."


    Without meaning to, I sink down into the chair, burying my face in my hands. I can''t believe it¡ªArthur seriously used a fun day at the amusement park to go behind my back and collect a DNA sample from my son, which he''s now using against me.


    "So what now?" I huff, throwing my hands up into the air. Am I going to prison now? Are you trying to take Miles away?"


    "No," Arthur replies, leaning forward. "I had to use the arrest to keep you from getting on the ne. I''m sure you understand."


    I grit my teeth. "What do you want from me, then?"


    He points at Miles. "I want two days a week, minimun, with my son. I want you both to stay in Ordan. I want rights."


    I scoff. "So either I capitte to these demands or I really do go to prison.


    Arthur just shrugs, giving me a loaded look.


    I bite my lip, considering my options. Of course, winding up in prison won''t help


    the situation at all, and it''ll just make things worse for Miles. But agreeing to these demands also feels like giving in. And after Arthur went behind my back for that DNA test, I''m feeling just a touch too angry to roll over and take it.


    For all I know, this might just be the first step in trying to take my son away from me for good.


    I shake my head, rising, and re firmly at Arthur.


    "No. I want awyer."


    ANY


    Chant

 Chapter 52

    Iris


    Arthur blinks at me once, twice, and then a third time just for good measure before he says, "You really want to bringwyers into this?"


    I fold my arms indignantly. "You''re the one who decided to bring arrest into it. And don''t even get me started on taking a DNA sample from my son without my knowledge


    Arthur bristles slightly, but finally sighs and nods. "Very well. If you really want to go to the trouble of turning this into a legal battle, then it''s well within your rights. But you should know that my legal team is


    "You''re the Alpha President of Ordan," I cut him off, getting up from my chair. "You don''t need to boast about your legal team."


    Truthfully, though, I''m actually fucking terrified. I know fully well just how expensive and powerful Arthur''s legal team is, the sort ofwyers that I couldn''t stand a chance against with what''s left of my savings after the whole debacle.


    But I won''t let him see that. I can''t show that kind of weakness right now.


    "Come on, Miles," I say gently, dropping to a crouch in front of him. "We''re going to stay at Uncle Brian''s apartment here for a while. How does that sound?"


    Miles looks a little confused, but I don''t have the heart to tell him that I can''t currently afford to get our own apartment back or even pay for a hotel. I know Brian and Liam will let me use their ce in the meantime, though


    Suddenly, Arthur says, "You can stay with me."


    I whip my head around to look at him, my eyes shooting daggers. Of course I don''t want to stay with him after the stunt he just pulled. In fact-


    "Yay!" Miles shoots to his feet, pping his hands together with glee. "We''re staying with Daddy! Mommy, can we please? Pleeeease?"


    I hesitate for a moment, caught between a rock and a hard ce yet again. Miles looks happier than he has all week, and I''m terrified of potentially seeing him go quiet again if I refuse Arthur''s offer.


    But if I ept...


    I nce over at Arthur, weighing my options. He''s wearing a cid smile on his face, ying the role of the innocent, doting father, but I think he knows exactly what he''s doing right now.


    Bastard


    He knows I can''t say no. Not now.


    Finally, with a sigh, I say, "I''m not living under the same roof as her."


    "Selina has her own house," Arthur says. "She doesn''t visit very often."


    That''s a relief, but only a little. I nod begrudgingly. "Fine. But only for a little while."


    I decide that I''ll do whatever it takes to find another living situation as soon as possible, but for now, it''s our best shot.


    With that settled-for now, anyway- Arthur leads us out of the headquarters and to


    his car. He buckles Miles into the car seat and opens the passenger side door for


    me.


    Just to spite him, I sit in the back seat, next to Miles.


    Arthur res at me for a moment, his jaw working, but finally ms the door shut and climbs in the driver''s seat.


    As we begin the journey to Arthur''s home, I begin to picture the living quarters. I imagine a cold, sterile Alpha penthouse, with gray everything and cold tiles beneath my feet. Once, Arthur was a fan of a creaky hardwood floor and mahogany furniture, stacks of books and a crackling fire.


    But he''s different now. Much different. And if his official office is anything like his new home, I imagine Miles and I will have to move around with utmost care so as not to leave fingerprints on anything.


    However, when Arthur takes one familiar turn, followed by another and another, I begin to lean forward in my seat. The buildings we pass remind me of an old life, one that I left behind long ago. We make our way into the historic district, paved streets making way for cobblestones and the cold, brutalist skyscrapers turning into quaint, ornate architecture.


    When he pulls up in front of a building I once knew quite well, I feel like I''ve walked into a dream.


    "We''re home," Arthur says, parking on the curb and getting out. He helps Miles out of his car seat as I climb out myself.


    "This is..." I stare up at the familiar brick and marble facade, at the two stone gargoyles perched on either corner of the tall apartmentplex. The cypress trees lining the front walkway and the marble steps leading up to a revolving brass door.


    "I never left," Arthur says as he helps me take our bags out of the trunk. "Surprised?"


    I swallow hard, following him up the front steps. Miles skips ahead, just like I


    always imagined in all the dreams I once had. The doorman, an elderly gentleman wearing a navy blue suit with white gloves and a cap, bows at the waist as we enter.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 53

    "Alpha Arthur." He straightens, and his eyes widen when he notices me. "Miss... Miss Iris. You''re back."


    I don''t answer, not because I don''t want to, but because my throat is too choked up. "Cliff," is all I can manage, greeting the man who I used to share coffees and conversations with on a daily basis. He looks older now, and his hair is whiter than it used to be, but... it''s him.


    The doorman stares at me in shock for a moment before Arthur quickly cuts in, "We trust your discretion, as always, Cliff."


    He nods, quickly stepping aside to let us into the familiar marble lobby. Miles stares up at him, and Cliff gives him a lollipop from the stash he keeps behind the security desk Tears mist over my eyes as I watch the exchange, but I quickly blink


    them away.


    As Arthur leads me to the old brass elevator and presses the button for the


    fifteenth floor, I feel as if I''ve walked into a dream that I''ve long forgotten. Even the gentle ding of each floor passing as we go up awakens something deep and tired within me, like a slumbering dragon.


    Arthur is quiet, but when I look up, he''s staring at me. I quickly look away.


    When the doors open into our old foyer, Miles bounces out into the space, spinning around excitedly. I hesitate at the threshold, though, my legs physically unable to carry me further. Arthur unlocks the double doors and swings them open, revealing what lies within.


    It''s the same. Our old penthouse apartment-it''s exactly the way I left it.


    The woven wee mat that I purchased at a garage sale. The metal coat rack, still holding my yellow raincoat that I''ve missed these past five years. The plush living room furniture. The mahogany bar in the dining room. The tall bookshelves going all the way up to the thirteen-foot ceilings, packed so full with books that some are stacked on the hardwood floors.


    I take a step in, my eyes widening as I look around. The long dining table, big enough to host parties at, the brick firece, the kitchen with its sleek ck granite countertops and dark wood cupboards and stainless appliances.


    For Goddess'' sake, the little chip in the corner of the living room doorframe is still there, from when we were moving our sofa in and it caught on the wood.


    It''s like I never left.


    Suddenly, the feeling of Arthur''s hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my reverie, and it''s only then that I feel dampness on my cheeks and realize a few tears slipped free I quickly wipe them away.


    "I thought you would have thrown everything away," I mutter, ncing up at the painting over the firece- the portrait of Arthur in his wolf form that I painted years ago, right here in this very living room. "I thought you would have at least thrown away anything reminding you of me."


    Arthur huffs slightly, and I''m not sure if it''s a chuckle or something else. "I couldn''t,¡± he admits, pulling away to help Miles take off his shoes by the front door. "Your studio is still intact, by the way. You''re wee to use it."


    The thought makes my chest constrict painfully. Countless nights spent in that studio, sunshine warming my face, the scent of linseed oil in the air...


    I''m not sure if I can muster the courage to go in there tonight.


    But it''ste now anyway, past Miles'' bedtime, and his eyelids are beginning to droop. We say goodnight, and I avoid looking Arthur in the eye; because now that I''m here, home again, I fear I might cave and go back on my word about our rtionship.


    I quickly take Miles to the spare room upstairs, which I''ll be sharing with him during our stay, since I''m not setting foot in the room I used to share with Arthur. The spare room is still the same-yellow wallpaper, floral bedsheets, a cozy duvet.


    I help Miles get ready for bed, then tuck him in, kissing his forehead.


    "Mommy?" he asks, looking up at me. "Can we stay here? Forever?"


    I feel like I''m going to be sick, and I''m not sure how to answer. I want to. Of course I want to. But Arthur is still...


    "I like it here," Miles goes on. "It smells nice. Like you. And I feel like we''re a family."


    Miles'' words make fresh tears well up, tears that aren''t as easy to wipe away as before. I don''t answer-I can''t. Rather, I crawl into bed with Miles, tugging him close against me. He''s too sleepy to notice myck of a response and nuzzles into me, half-asleep already.


    We fall asleep like that, Miles'' small body tucked up against me. And just as I drift off, I almost forget that I ever left this ce at all.

 Chapter 54

    ¨ªris


    The following day, I wake to the sensation of warm sunlight sshing across my skin. A familiar scent, one that I''ve long forgotten and can''t quite put a name to, wafts through the cozy room, causing a small smile to spread across my face as I stir.


    Home. I''m home.


    For a moment, I forget that I left this ce for five years. For a moment, I think that no time has passed at all, that it''s the morning all those years ago when I found out I was pregnant. Before everything happened.


    It was all just a bad dream.


    But then reality returns, as it always does, and my smile fades. I''m home, but not really. It''s not my home anymore. And if I don''t find awyer soon, I might be forced to stay here or else wind up in prison.


    Arthur is apparently already at work for the day, which is a relief. I make a quick breakfast for myself and Miles in the kitchen, trying not to focus on how familiar everything is and how I know exactly where the bowls, silverware, milk, and cereal are without even having to think twice.


    After eating quickly, we head out for the day. I bribe Miles with the promise of ice creamter if hees with me, and then I take him to awyer''s office nearby.


    Thewyer, an ancient old man with a birdlike nose and a tired look in his eyes, calls me into his office. "Sit," he says, gesturing to the seat on the other side of his desk. He nces at Miles, looking almost disgusted for a moment at the very presence of a child, before he turns to me. "How can I help you?"


    Taking a deep breath, I exin my situation to thewyer. But I''m hardly halfway through before he stops me, raising a weathered old hand.


    "I''m sorry, Miss, but I won''t help you," he says.


    I blink, taken aback. "Why not?"


    "You''re iming that you intend to fight a legal battle with the President of Ordan himself," he chortles, as if he doesn''t even fully believe me. "His legal team is far bigger and more equipped than my small team can handle. It will be a certain defeat."


    I purse my lips. "There must be something you can do."


    He shakes his head and pushes his wire-rimmed sses up on his slender nose. "I''m afraid not, Miss. Might I suggest you try Brooks & Lee, downtown? They might have someone who could help.¡±


    The very mention of that prestigiousw firm makes my heart sink. "I can''t... I can''t afford it," I admit.


    Thewyer sighs and leans back in his chair. "Well, then, I can''t help you."


    I push the contract closer toward him and tap on the use. "At the very least, can''t you tell me that this ispletely uwful?" I ask. "Miles is a human, not property. Surely Arthur can''t-"


    "Actually," the old man interrupts, "Alpha Arthur is doing you a service by taking this route instead of the more obvious one."


    "More... obvious one?"


    He nods. "He''s an Alpha. Furthermore, he''s the Alpha President, and has confirmation that the boy is his son. Technically, he could easily im the Alpha''s Heirw and im custody of his son. You wouldn''t be able to stop


    him."


    I suppress the urge to let out a vile string of curse words. Of course; I almost forgot about Ordan''s more... antiquatedws.


    Back in the old days-which really weren''t that long ago, only around forty years ago-Alphas could implete ownership of their wives and kin. Their wives couldn''t work, have bank ounts, own property, or open credit cards without explicit permission from the Alphas. Furthermore, their children were basically property.


    It was a vile oldw that was weaponized to ensure that money and property remained within Alpha families. That way, if a child under the Alpha''s custody tried


    to marry someone of a different ss, such as a Gamma or Omega or Goddess forbid a human, they could be prohibited from doing so.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 55

    Thankfully, thews have changed since then. But Alphas can still im the


    ''Alpha''s Heir''w and gain custody. of their firstborn werewolf child in court, if they have reason to do so. And what better reason than being the fucking President himself?


    But then it hits me.


    "Actually," I say, my eyes lighting up, "Miles isn''t a werewolf. He''s human. He didn''t inherit any werewolf traits, so the Alpha''s Heirw doesn''t apply to him."


    Thewyer, if anything, just gives Miles another disgusted look. "Right," he says slowly. "Well, my decision still holds: my firm simplycks the resources to participate in a legal battle against the Alpha President. I''m sorry, Miss..."


    His voice trails off, and I realize he doesn''t even remember my name. I don''t bother to tell him what it is, and simply whisk Miles away.


    As I leave, I wonder if he would have been more inclined to help me if I had been a werewolf. Typical.


    Afterwards, holding true to my promise, I take Miles to a small ice cream shop and buy him a cone. As we begin making our way home-or rather, back to Arthur''s home-l chew the inside of my cheek, considering my options. If I could just scrape together enough money, I could afford a betterwyer who will help me with this. It might take a little time, but I could do it-I could sell some paintings, for a start.


    We head back into the apartment building, where Cliff is sitting at the front desk. His eyes light up as we approach, and for the first time since this morning, I smile.


    "Miss Iris," he says, struggling to his feet. "I never got to sayst night just how d I am to see you. Are you and Mr. Arthur back together now?"


    My smile twitches a little, but I manage, "No, Cliff. I''m just... staying for a while."


    Cliff''s face falls ever so slightly. "Oh. Well, you''ve been missed, you know. You should speak with Ms. Augustine. She never stopped talking about you. Although, her mind is going a bit these days, so don''t be too rmed if she''s a little... confused."


    At the mention of the elderlyndy, my heart softens. Another face I once loved-we started a book club'' together back when I lived here, and we would meet every Saturday for tea and to discuss our books. It was just the two of us, and Cliff sometimes barged in to steal our cookies, but I always treasured it.


    I never finished thest book we were supposed to read, actually. I wonder if it''s still here.


    Smiling, I tell Cliff that I''ll talk to her soon, and take Miles back upstairs. Arthur is still gone when we arrive, and I leave Miles to y in the bedroom while I make my way to my studio.


    I hesitate in front of the studio door, my hand reaching for the wobbly old doorknob. There''s still a splotch of paint on the brass. Sky blue, to be exact.


    For a moment, I almost can''t bring myself to enter. I''m afraid of the old memories, I guess-of the reminder that, no matter how much I try to will it into being, these past five years really have gone by. And Cliff''s osteoporosis and Augustine''s fading mind are even more proof of that.


    But somehow, I manage to build up the courage to turn the handle. I push the door open, steeling myself against the scent of oil paints and linseed.


    Just as Arthur said, the room is still exactly the same. The easel is still set up by the window, the white dropcloth


    still covers the floor, and the metal stool still sits there, waiting for me. And there''s


    a stack of clean, unmarked canvases leaning against the wall.


    Taking a deep breath, I pick up one of the canvases and set it on the easel. Then, I get to work.


    **

 Chapter 56

    Iris


    Each brush stroke across the canvas takes me deeper and deeper into a state of flow. My hand moves of its own ord, in time with the soft ssical music ying on the small record yer in the corner. Blues and yellows, pinks and greens.


    It''s a simple still life of some potted tulips sitting on the windowsill in front of me, the type of painting that i know will sell quickly. The heavier subjects can wait for now. This one just needs to earn me some cash to put toward awyer.


    But even so, the process of making this simple painting rxes me. Over the past few weeks, my work has suffered greatly, as evidenced by the disaster of a painting that I showed to Alice at the gallery.


    Here, though, I feel... better. Here, I forget once again that ever left this little studio, that the past five years ever passed at all.


    I feel... safe.


    The sun begins to go down, casting vibrant golds and reds across the small room. Fat little birds chirp on the ledge outside the window, ruffling their feathers as they enjoy the warmth from the stones. Far below, I can hear the city bustling, peopleing home from work for the day, kids ying in the alley before dinnertime. Miles is running up and down the hallway, the floorboards creaking under his feet, and he''s making airne


    sounds.


    Life is sweet. Simple.


    That is, until I hear the front door open and shut downstairs.


    I stiffen when I hear the deep timbre of Arthur''s voice echo through the house. "Hello? Anyone home?"


    "Daddy!" Miles calls out, running to him.


    Once, I might have gone running to him myself. I might have peppered his sharp jaw with kisses, scratching my lips on his faint stubble. I might have loosened his tie and chatted with him about our day over sses of wine and a homemade dinner.


    But that was a long time ago. And now, the thought of doing any of the things we used to do just makes me bitter.


    I make my way downstairs, not because I want to see him, of course, but because Miles is calling to me now. Arthur is slipping off his leather loafers in the foyer, his briefcase in one hand and his suit jacket draped over his forearm. He looks handsome, in a perfectly polished sort of way.


    He looks up when I reach the base of the stairs, and nces at my yellow cardigan-the one with the hole in it- and then down at my paint-stained hands. "Busy day?" Arthur asks.


    I''m not particrly inclined to talk about how my day went I especially don''t want to tell him about my failure to find awyer and how I need to sell paintings to earn money, so I just shrug and say, "Something along those lines."


    Suddenly, Miles says, "We went to a fancy office today! There was an old man there and he said some really big words aboutws and stuff."


    "Is that so?" Arthur asks, cocking his head. "You saw awyer, I take it? How did it


    go?"


    0


    I press my lips into a thin line. "Fine," I answer vaguely.


    *


    Arthur nces at the tips of my ears, which are surely red as beets right now. But


    to my surprise, he doesn''t press the matter. Rather, he turns to Miles and says, "You want dinner, kiddo?"


    Miles grins, and Arthur begins making his way to the kitchen. I hesitate on the bottom step, debating going back upstairs to continue painting.


    Arthur must be able to read my mind, because he calls from the kitchen, "You can at least take a break from painting to eat, Iris."


    My cheeks warm. Back when we were together, I would often forget to eat when I was working. I would get into such a state of flow that I would forget about my body entirely, and Arthur would have to practically drag me away from my easel.


    I still do that sometimes, even now. If it weren''t for the fact that I now have a child


    to care for, I would probably die of starvation without Arthur around to force-feed


    me.


    Sighing, I follow them to the kitchen, where Arthur is already pulling out ingredients for dinner. "I can cook," I say, used to doing all of the cooking for myself and Miles. But as I move toward the counter, Arthur waves his hand without even looking at me.


    "I''ve got it," he says. "You rx."


    I pause, somewhat stunned. Not because Arthur can''t cook I know he can, or at least back when we were together he could cook extremely well-but because, for one, I''m used to doing all of the cooking now. And second, I don''t expect the Alpha President to cook for himself anymore.


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 Chapter 57

    "I''m surprised you don''t have a personal chef or something, Mr. President," I remark, sliding onto one of the barstools at the kitchen ind as I watch him line up the ingredients and put a pot of water on the stove to boil.


    Arthur shoots me a sidelong nce, then gestures around the kitchen with his knife. "You don''t see any staff around here, do you?"


    Indeed, I don''t. Not so much as a housekeeper, in fact. Aside from Cliff monitoring the front door downstairs, which is for the entire apartment building and not just us, there doesn''t seem to be any staff on sight.


    "What about security?" I ask, furrowing my brow.


    "When I first got elected, they followed me everywhere," Arthur replies as he works. "I got sick of it pretty quick, though. Now, I just keep a couple posted undercover outside the apartment building, and allow them to follow at a distance when I''m out. I only have a full security detail for events and the like. It''s not really necessary, anyway."


    I can''t help but agree. Ordan is a pretty peaceful city, and werewolves'' natural hierarchy instincts keep them from doing things like trying to attack the wolf at the top of the food chain. Arthur is definitely at the top of the food chain right now. As for humans, we would never dream of attacking a werewolf anyway, especially not an Alpha.


    "And housekeepers?"


    Arthur shrugs. "Selina thinks I should have one. But since it''s just me here, I haven''t felt the need. I can clean up after myself."


    He''s right, of course. Arthur was always pretty fastidious with his belongings when we were together. I was probably the messier out of the two of us.


    Once dinner is ready-decadent mashed potatoes, medium rare steak, and roasted carrots and broli-we sit at the dining room table and begin to eat.


    I suppress a moan as I bite into the steak. It''s perfectly cooked, and melts on my tongue like butter. I forgot just how good of a cook Arthur is.


    Miles, for his part, digs in with more gusto than I think I''ve ever seen him eat. He''s practically halfway through his small steak already, and his mashed potatoes arepletely gone. He''s even eating his broli, which is a surprise. He usually hates broli.


    "Did you put drugs in the food or something?" I joke, picking up my ss of red wine and looking at Arthur.


    He looks almost confused. I gesture to Miles, whose face ispletely stuffed right now. Miles shes us both a toothy grin around an enormous bite of steak, nearly spilling his milk as he goes for a big gulp.


    Arthurshrugs. "I just prepared a high protein meal," he remarks. "Werewolves thrive on red meat, too."


    Now, I''m the one who''s a little confused. Miles is a human the test I had done when I found out I was pregnant said so. Personally, I''ve always cooked us bnced meals, but humans aren''t really supposed to consume more than eighteen ounces of red meat per week, so I''ve always kept it under that limit.


    But Miles is a growing boy, I suppose. I make a mental note to increase his protein intake from now on. After dinner, I give Miles a bath and then put him to bed. He knocks out pretty much as soon as his head hits the pillow, exhausted from a long couple of days.


    I''m not tired at all, though. I make my way back to my studio and get back to work on my painting.


    The flow returns almost as soon as I pick up the brush, and before I know it, hours have passed. I hardly even notice the moon rising high in the sky or the heavy feeling in my eyelids. All that exists right now is the palette in


    my hand and the paint streaking across the canvas.


    Suddenly, though, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder that early makes me drop


    my brush. I gasp, looking up, to see Arthur staring down at me.


    When I turn my head to look at him, our noses nearly bump each other.


    And on instinct, this proximity makes me want to kiss

 Chapter 58

    Iris


    The spell is quickly broken when I realize just how close we are. I nearly fall off my painting stool in my attempt to put some distance between us, sending the entire stool ttering to the floor.


    My cheeks flush as I stoop to pick it up, getting even more paint on the sleeve of my cardigan in the process.


    Truthfully, the pull to kiss Arthur was too strong just now. Far too strong. So strong, in fact, that I might have kissed him had I not jumped to my feet.


    I push the feeling of attraction down, though.


    "What do you want?" I blurt out, setting the stool upright and folding my arms across my chest.


    Arthur looks at me for a moment, and there''s a hint of amusement in his green eyes. He holds up a familiar coffee mug with a picture of two otters holding hands on it-it used to be my favorite mug.


    "I brought you some tea," he says, handing it to me. "Figured you might need it since you''re working sote."


    I don''t take the tea right away. My eyes narrow. "I hope you''re not trying to butter me up.


    "Not at all, Iris. Just trying to make sure you don''t pass out on the floor from working sote."


    My neck flushes a little at the reminder. I used to sleep in my studio fairly often when I lived here, too exhausted after working into the wee hours of the morning to even slump down the hall to the bedroom. Arthur found me knocked out on the floor on more than one asion, and it''s why there''s now a small daybed against the wall with plush cushions.


    Finally, I take the tea. It burns my tongue a little as I take a sip, but the peppermint vor is soothing.


    "Thank you," I say quietly.


    Arthur nces over my shoulder. "New painting?" He leans in to get a better look at the still life. "It''s not like your typical work."


    I want to tell him that he doesn''t know jack shit about my typical work these days, but I bite my tongue. Instead, I say a bit more coldly than I intend, "I should remind you that we''re in the midst of a legal battle at the moment. Fraternizing might not be the wisest decision."


    "We haven''t actually started the ''legal battle'' yet," Arthur replies calmly without missing a beat. "Who is yourwyer, anyway?"


    I guess I sort of walked right into that one. But instead of answering, I wave my hand toward the door. "Thank you for the tea, but I''m busy. If you don''t mind..."


    Arthur looks at me, then the painting again, and then sighs. ¡°Alright. Goodnight, Iris," he says, turning toward the door.


    "Goodnight."


    I watch him go, hating the way my eyes wander across his broad shoulders and how it makes my heart flutter a little. But once he''s gone, I get right back to work. I have to finish this painting tonight-I need that money.


    The following morning, I wake up on the little daybed, my head pounding and my eyes sore from spending the entire night painting. I must have only gotten a few hours of sleep, which doesn''t feel like nearly enough.


    However, my artwork is finished.


    That day, I leave Miles with Cliff for a couple of hours. Cliff promises that they''ll have lots of fun, and that Miles can press the button to unlock the doors whenever a residentes. This seems to excite Miles greatly, and he doesn''t kick up a fuss as I hurry out with my painting wrapped up and tucked under my arm.


    Rather than going to a gallery to sell my work, I head to a few pawn shops around town. I need the cash as soon as possible, so I don''t exactly have the time to hang the art and wait for it to sell to some collector or another.


    But unfortunately, no one seems interested. Artwork from a ''nobody'' human artist doesn''t seem to be the type of thing that most pawn shops are willing to take. Not many people here know who ''Flora'' is yet, and I get strange looks whenever I try to pawn the piece off as an original.


    Finally, I resort to thest thing I ever wanted to do: selling it on the street.


    I haven''t sold my artwork on the street in three years. Thest time I did it was when I was still in art school, trying to earn extra cash by drawing caricatures and selling small pieces at the central park in Bo''Arrocan. Once I got my degree, I''d hoped that those days were behind me.


    But it needs to be done. And so, swallowing my pride, I throw together a small


    sign with a price tag on it and head to the central park. I find a spot in a high traffic area and hold the painting, trying to get the attention of passersby.


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    "Hello!" I say cheerfully to a woman who''s passing by. "Can I interest you in a-"


    The woman ignores me, her heels clicking as she hurries past.


    I sigh, but shake it off and turn to the next person. "Can I interest you in a Flora original? Just three hundred dors!"


    The man, wearing a leather jacket and jeans, stops and raises an eyebrow. "Three hundred dors? For that?"


    "It''s a Flora original," I reply with a smile.


    "Who the hell is Flora?"


    "She''s an up anding artist. She had an exhibition recently at Marsiel Gallery."


    "Where?"


    "Nevermind..."


    And so it goes for the next hour and a half. If anyone stops to look, it''s fleeting and often filled with rudements. Hardly anyone knows who ''Flora'' is, and if they do, they think I''m a poser trying to pawn off a fake.


    I''m about to give up when a young, slender woman with bright auburn hair and a wealthy air about her stops. "T give you one-fifty," she says by way of greeting. She''s holding the cash in her hand already, and practically waves it in my face.


    I hesitate, chewing my lip. That''s half of what I was hoping to get, and even three hundred Ordan dors is dirt cheap for a painting of this size.


    But I''m desperate. So I ept the cash with a nod and hand her the painting. She struts off without even saying '' thank you''.


    I sigh and sink down onto a nearby bench, counting the cash. It''s all there, I suppose, but I''ll need to produce twice as many paintings at this rate if I''m going to earn the same amount I was hoping for. And that''s just to be able to afford the legal consultation at Brooks & Lee.


    "Iris?"


    The sound of a familiar voice has me looking up. The curator from Marsiel, Alice, is standing there with a cup of coffee in hand. She nces at me, then the cash in my hands, and the woman walking away with the painting.


    "Alice," I say, quickly shoving the money in my pocket. "Fancy seeing you here."


    "I thought you went back to Bo''Arrocan," she says.


    I swallow. "I... was going to," I reply. "But something happened, and now I''m staying here for the time being."


    She nods toward the woman with the painting. "Selling paintings on the street?" "Strapped for cash," I admit sheepishly, running my hand over my braid.


    Alice stares at me for a moment almost incredulously before she takes a seat next to me. "Why didn''t you contact me? I could help you sell some art if you''re really in that much of a bind."


    My eyes widen slightly. "I... I guess I thought I burned my bridges. Because of the contract and everything."


    "Burned your bridges?" Alice giggles and shakes her head. "Iris, I love your work. I''d be willing to help you,


    contract or no contract."


    "Really?" I ask, my eyebrows shooting up.


    Alice nods excitedly. "Yes! How long are you staying in Ordan?"


    ¡°Um..... I''m not really sure," I admit. "As of right now... indefinitely."


    To my surprise, Alice looks unfazed. She stands, ncing at her watch. "I have to run, but tell you what-if you can produce five new pieces by that art opening we''re holding in a little under two weeks, you can hang your art in the space."


    "But I can''t afford hanging fees," I say softly.


    "Forget the fees. If you sell anything, I''ll just take amission. You can keep the rest."


    "Really?" I ask.


    She nods and grins. "Really. Just have the work ready by then. And make sure it''s better than the mud waffles."


    I can''t help butugh, despite everything. "I will," I say, shaking Alice''s hand.


    "Thank you, Alice, You have no idea how much this means to me."


    "It means a lot to Marsiel Gallery, too," she replies. "Your work really helped us, Alice; that lecture you gave brought a lot of business. Who knows-maybe we can work something out without your ''mysterious patron¡°.¡±


    With that, Alice leaves, shing me a wink over her shoulder. I blush a little, touched by her help. I don''t feel like I deserve it, but it''s a relief to know that I''ve got something to look forward to that doesn''t involve Arthur or selling my art on the street. Even if it means I have to wait an extra two weeks before I can get legal help.


    I hurry home after that, excited to get to work on my next five paintings. ording


    to Cliff, Miles is upstairs with Arthur when I arrive. But Cliff''s face is a little tense for some reason.


    When I get upstairs, I realize why: Selina is here.


    But it''s not just that. The painting I sold in the park is leaning against the wall, and Selina is smirking at me.

 Chapter 60

    ¨ªris


    "Hello, Iris," Selina says, flipping a blonde curl over her shoulder with a manicured hand. "Fancy seeing you here."


    I freeze in the doorway to the living room, suddenly feeling out of ce in what was once my own home. Arthur is sitting in an armchair across from Selina, who is perched on the edge of the couch in a delicate little purple dress. She looks as statuesque as ever.


    There''s a pile of papers between them, and it only takes a nce for me to see mockups of wedding invitations and know that they''re in the midst of wedding nning.


    My throat tightens. Even though Arthur told me their marriage was only ever meant to be for political purposes and not love, it still hurts to think about it. And it hurts even more to see her here, especially in the same ce as my son. I''m d Miles seems to be ying upstairs, judging by the sound of his footsteps pattering overhead.


    "Selina,¡± I manage, forcing a thin smile that has no levity behind it. "Is that your painting in the hallway?"


    Selina''s eyes sh with something bordering on gleeful malice, and she waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, that little thing? My interior designer picked it up from a random vendor at the park today. I''m not really a fan of it, but she said the vendor seemed so pitiful and desperate for cash that she just had to help her."


    I feel like I''m going to be sick. Surprisingly, Arthur doesn''t react. He never saw the finished product of the painting, so I wonder if he even realizes it''s mine. I hope


    not.


    Just in case they really don''t know it''s mine, to save face, I smile and nod. "I see. That must have been very kind of her, then."


    Selina''s upper lip curls into a little smirk. "Indeed."


    With that, I turn to head upstairs, not wanting to interrupt their meeting. But Selina


    gets up then, scooping up the piles of papers with a dramatic sigh.


    "Well, Arthur, darling, I''ll send the invitations back to the designer as soon as possible for a new round of mockups. We shouldn''t dy our wedding any further, though, you know. You''ll have to make a decision at some point."


    Arthur is silent, but Selina doesn''t seem to notice or care. She saunters past me, her slender shoulder brushing mine as she walks by, and picks up the painting between two fingers.


    "As for this," she says, holding it up and wrinkling her nose as she inspects it in the light, "I suppose I could hang it in my bathroom."


    And just like that, she''s gone.


    It''s only once the doors shut behind her that I let out a breath I didn''t realize I was holding. I turn to Arthur, who''s standing now, and I hope desperately that he doesn''t know the truth about the painting. I''m not sure if I could


    extra shame right now.


    handle the


    "Iris, I have a question for you," he says, not addressing the wedding invitations or the painting. He crosses over to the dining room and walks behind the bar, pouring himself a tall ss of bourbon. "Are you still nning on using the patronage funds?"


    "Why would I?" I retort, cing my hands on my hips. "I still n on backing out of the contract."


    He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of his drink. He looks like he needs something to take the edge off after


    Selina''s visit. And when he holds up the bottle in my direction, silently offering me a ss, I nod and move over to the bar. I need something to take the edge off, too.


    Pouring my ss and handing it to me, he says, "You don''t have to back out of the contract, you know. I still stand by what I said about wanting to support your art."


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 Chapter 61

    I suppose it doesn''t matter at this point if I back out or not since that use will still prevent me from leaving the country with Miles for a year regardless. Unless I get legal help, of course. Which I will. Once I earn enough money.


    Still, I have no intention of using Arthur''s money for anything. Especially not now.


    "I''m not nning on using it," I say flippantly. "In fact, I just worked out a deal with the Marsiel curator that has nothing to do with the patronage."


    Arthur''s brows lift in surprise, and I realize I''ve inadvertently admitted that I''m in a financial bind. But if he''s offering for me to use the patronage funds, I assume he''s already figured as much by now.


    Surprisingly, though, he simply nods and says, "Very well. But you should know that if you need support in any way, I''ll help you."


    My blood simmers.


    "Help me by nullifying the contract," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "Let me go.


    11


    Arthur''s eyes sh. "I won''t let you take my son where I''ll never see him again,¡± he growls. "Sorry, but that''s where I draw the line."


    His words frustrate me, but I knock back my drink and set the ss on the bar, choosing not toment. I thank him for the drink and turn to leave so I can get to work on my paintings.


    But luck isn''t on my side.


    "Iris," Arthur says, stopping me in the doorway. "That was your piece, wasn''t it? The one Selina purchased."


    I swallow hard, my shoulders stiffening. Before I can answer, he adds, "It''s a lovely painting. I''ll make sure she hangs it somewhere deserving of respect."


    I snort and turn to face him again. "I don''t care where she hangs it," I reply. "I got my money, so the piece can burn now for all I care."


    His brow furrows. "Why were you selling artwork on the street, anyway? Why not sell it at the gallery? Unless you really do need the money..."


    Of course, I''m too ashamed to admit out loud that I can''t afford awyer right now, so I shrug and say, "I wasn''t. And I don''t. I was just sitting on a bench with the piece while taking a break on my way to Marsiel. Ady approached and asked to buy it, so I took the money, figuring it was easier."


    For a moment, I think my lie might work. But then Arthur moves, closing the distance between us in three quick strides His scent hits me like a brick wall, smoke and bourbon and the slight tang of spearmint mming into me.


    His breath, hot and minty across my face, nearly makes my knees give out.


    "You know, even after all these years," he murmurs, gently flicking the tip of one of my ears, "your ears still turn red whenever you lie."


    His voice is deep and seductive, the type of timbre that once would have made me sumb despite my best attempts. Even now, it has a simr effect on me. My face heats, my low belly pooling with warm honey.


    Without even meaning to, I tilt my chin up to look at him, myshes sweeping across my cheekbones. His eyes flicker to my lips, which part slightly as if in invitation. Maybe it is an invitation. This close, our mate bond is nearly irresistible, just as it was that night in the alley.


    But he doesn''t kiss me, or even touch me. He just gives me onest little smile, as if he''s satisfied by my reaction,


    1


    before he brushes past me. He grabs his suit jacket off the hook by the front door and leaves without another word.


    My knees tremble in his wake, and I have to press my hand into the doorframe to keep from copsing.

 Chapter 62

    Iris


    Arthur leaves after that, which is both a relief and a disappointment for reasons I''m not sure if I''m ready to admit. Miles is happily ying in the guest bedroom, so


    I leave him be and head straight to my studio, ready to get to work.


    Over the next couple of hours, I slip back into my groove. The brush moves across the canvas like an extension of my arm, a dizzying array of ck, sky blue, and gentle shades of pink.


    The painting I''m working on firstes to me without even having to n it ahead of time; it''s an impressionist depiction of a park bench beneath a lovely pink cherry tree, delicate blossoms fluttering down to the ground. On the bench sits a torn-up canvas, the shreds of fabric mingling with the pink and white petals.


    I want to paint Selina in the background, hanging upside down from the tree like a bat with her eyes blood-red and her lips curled in that signature sneer of hers, but I stay my hand. Although, the thought of her looking like her true self-a life essence vampire-makes me giggle softly despite myself.


    After a few hours, I take a break to rest my hands and wrists. I make three sandwiches and give one to Miles on our way down to the lobby to visit Cliff.


    "Cliff," I say as we cross the lobby, holding up one of the sandwiches. "I thought you might be hungry. And in need of a little fresh air."


    The aging security guard''s features light up, and he hops up from behind his desk, taking the sandwich. The three of us head out into the sunshine, veering toward the small park nearby where Miles greedily gobbles his sandwich before running off to y with the other kids.


    Cliff and I take a seat on a nearby bench, and Cliff leans back, letting out a satisfied sigh as we eat our sandwiches and watch Miles hang upside down from the monkey bars. I''m sure Miles will make himself sick doing that right away, but he looks so happy I don''t have the heart to make him wait for his food to digest.


    ¡°This is sort of like old times, isn''t it?" Cliff says with a smile. ¡°Of course, you have one of your own children now


    I smile, but there''s also a tinge of bitterness behind the thought of ''old times''. Back when I lived here, I used to share lunch with Cliff and Augustine and we''d watch the kids y on the yground quite regrly. But things


    are different now.


    "Where is Augustine?" I ask, swallowing a bite of my sandwich.


    Cliff sighs. "She keeps to herself these days."


    "I should visit her."


    He shoots me a knowing look. "Yes, you should. I worry about her sometimes. Ever since her symptoms began setting in, she started to iste herself. She needs to at least get out to see the sun once in a while."


    I nod, polishing off my sandwich, and dust my fingers across my overalls. Cliff keeps an eye on Miles as he ys, and I make my way inside and down the first floor hallway to her apartment door. Taking a deep breath, I knock.


    For a few moments, there''s no answer. I wonder briefly if she''s asleep, and push down the slight worry that she may have fallen and hurt herself. But then I hear her small voice call out through the wood, "Go away!"


    I frown, confused. Augustine was never unfriendly when I lived here. She would have invited anyone into her apartment for tea and cookies, even to her own detriment at times. This isn''t like her at all; I wonder if it''s a symptom of her dementia.


    "Augustine," I call out, trying to keep my voice light, "it''s me, Iris. I know it''s been a long time since west saw each other, but-"


    "I said, go away!"


    Her voice is harsher this time, even trembling slightly. She almost sounds... frightened. Either that, or angry. Two more traits that I never knew Augustine to


    have in the past. She was always fearless and utterly unshakable. I don''t think I ever saw her without a smile on her face.


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 Chapter 63

    "But Augustine"


    "Go away, Selina!"


    I blink, surprised. She thinks I''m... her? I don''t think I sound like Selina at all. ¡°I''m not Selina," I reply quickly. It''s me, Iris. Open the door and see for yourself."


    There''s a pause, and I think she might finally oblige. But she doesn''t. Rather, I just hear the chain go across the door. "I''m not falling for your tricks again!" she shouts, her voice retreating into the apartment. "Go away, and stop bothering me!"


    I open my mouth to call out to her again, but stop myself. She must be having some kind of episode from her dementia. I decide to leave her be for now, ande back when she''s in a better mood. And maybe Cliff can help. me get through to her.


    When I return to the yground, Miles is running circles around the park bench where Cliff is sitting Cliff looks up as I approach.


    "Well? How did it go?"


    I shake my head, suddenly feeling the need to blink back tears. "She thought I was..." I can''t say Selina''s name out Moud right now, so I just shake my head again. ¡°I think she got confused, that''s all. I''ll try again tomorrow."


    "I''m sorry, Miss Iris. She gets in these moods sometimes... But yes, do try again tomorrow. Maybe if you can bring something that will jog her memory of you, she''ll snap out of it."


    I nod, letting Miles y for a while longer before we head inside. On the way up to the apartment, I consider Cliff''s words, and recall how I used to have those book club meetings with Augustine.


    I never did finish thest book we were supposed to read-only got halfway through it before I left, and I mistakenly left it behind. I bet it''s still sitting on the shelf, actually. Maybe if I bring it to her, she''ll remember me and will want to talk.


    In the apartment, Miles runs off to y by himself and I step into the living room where the tall bookshelves are. They stretch all the way to the ceiling, shelves upon shelves filled to the brim with books.


    "Shit," I mutter, biting my lower lip. It''s been so long that don''t remember where I put that book. Climbing onto the rollingdder that''s attached to the wall, I begin to methodically make my way through the shelves in search of the book. There are a lot of titles that I remember reading before, and I fondly run my finger across the spines with a faint smile touching my lips. However, I can''t seem to locate thest book I was reading. I slowly make my way down the rows of shelves, pushing thedder along with my foot. It rolls easily, reminding me of the days when I used to peruse the titles in this very same way. My own home library. I wonder if Arthur ever got around to reading some of the titles that we purchased at used book stores on a whim.


    Suddenly, as I''m extending my left leg to give myself a push to the next shelf, my foot slips. I gasp, losing my footing, my hand swiping toward the rung to catch myself a moment toote.


    It all happens so fast. My stomach drops as I begin to fall the sixteen feet back to the floor, arms windmilling out to the sides. I fall like a sack of potatoes, bracing myself for a painful impact.


    But then, suddenly, sturdy arms catch me with ease. When the panic subsides enough to make sense of what just happened, I blink dazedly up and see Arthur''s concerned face staring down at me.

 Chapter 64

    Arthur''s arms are warm andforting around my body. He holds me with such ease, the curve of my waist fitting perfectly against his chest. For a moment, we just stare at each other, and he doesn''t put me down right


    away.


    To say that I feel attraction to Arthur right now would be an understatement. As those green eyes look down at me, it feels like fireworks are lighting up beneath my skin, hot res and sparks fizzling behind my chest.


    "Arthur..."


    I mutter his name without even thinking, my fingers delicately digging into his shoulders. His arms tighten around me, pulling me ever so slightly closer. Our noses almost brush just from how close we are.


    I think he might kiss me. Or I might kiss him; I''m not sure which, but right now, it doesn''t matter. All I know is that I want this, maybe more than anything. I want to taste his lips on mine, feel the tender exploration of his tongue into my mouth. Hell, I want more than that. I want


    "Mommy? What are you doing?"


    The sound of Miles'' voice jolts me back to reality, and I scramble free from Arthur''s arms. Surprisingly, he lets me go without a fuss.


    Miles is standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed with confusion.


    "We were just..." I don''t know how to answer. My cheeks turn a deep shade of red, and my mouth opens and closes a few times, working uselessly.


    Suddenly, Arthur says, "Your mom almost had a fall. I caught her."


    Miles blinks, ncing between the two of us then at thedder behind me. "Oh," he says. "Okay."


    I look up at Arthur, feeling oddly grateful for his quick thinking. But when he looks down at me, he just seems... perturbed.


    Later, after we''ve had dinner and Miles is getting ready for his bath, Arthur and I are cleaning up in the kitchen. It''s easy to slip back into our old routine without even thinking about it; he does the dishes, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows to expose his muscr forearms, and I putter around the kitchen, wiping down the counters and putting things away.


    I hate how easy this is. I hate how I know exactly where everything goes. I hate that I don''t need to ask where the cleaning supplies are.


    Once again, it feels as if I never left. And it feels like an extra kick in the gut after what happened earlier-the ease with which he caught me, and how easily I almost kissed him.


    Suddenly, Arthur nces at me over his shoulder. "Iris," he says, shutting off the faucet and drying his hands, ". can I ask you something?"


    My stomach drops as if I''m falling off thedder all over again, but I nod stiffly. "What is it?"


    He turns to face me, and there''s that look of confusion again. "Miles earlier..." He hesitates, as if struggling to find the right words. Then, taking a deep breath, he simply asks, ¡°Have you had any lovers since we broke up?" My eyes widen slightly, and I hesitate.


    I know why he''s asking; Miles was confused earlier, seeing us almost kiss like that. I know Arthur noticed.


    Truthfully, it''s because Miles has actually never


    Geen me


    No, 1 never dated over the past five years. In fact, I never and my career to think about love. And frankly, it''s not ex fated mate is still out there, bound to you.


    But I don''t tell Arthur that right away, because I''m not er


    On one hand, I almost don''t want to tell him the truth jus eyes when I tell him that I''ve taken lovers, maybe even m satisfying, to make him believe that his love wasn''t as im


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    Truthfully, it''s because Miles has actually never seen me be romantic with anyone, and it''s strange for him.


    No, I never dated over the past five years. In fact, I never even considered it, as I was too busy focusing on Miles and my career to think about love. And frankly, it''s not exactly easy to think about loving anyone else when your fated mate is still out there, bound to you.


    But I don''t tell Arthur that right away, because I''m not entirely sure how he''ll react.


    On one hand, I almost don''t want to tell him the truth just to spite him. I want to see the jealous, angry look in his eyes when I tell him that I''ve taken lovers, maybe even many lovers, since we broke up. It would feel momentarily satisfying, to make him believe that his love wasn''t as important to me as he once thought. Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 65

    But I know that spite won''t help either of us, no matter how angry I am over his actions. And besides, he''s an Alpha; they''re practically hardwired to try and hold onto what''s ''theirs'', and hearing his fated mate say that she had other lovers might just piss him off royally.


    Even if it didn''t make him do that, though, I know I have to tell him the truth. Because it''s the right thing to do.


    Finally, I shake my head. "No. I never dated anyone. Miles has never seen me be romantic with a man, so it''s confusing for him."


    I almost wonder if Arthur will use this knowledge against me in some way-maybe use it as a way to convince me to get back with him, tell me that if I haven''t found someone else in five years, I never will and we should just be together.


    But to my surprise, he doesn''t. Rather, he just nods and busies himself with tidying the sink area.


    "I wouldn''t me you if you had, you know," he says calmly.


    I blink, stunned. "Really?"


    He shrugs. "The thought of my mate being with another man doesn''t fill me with joy. But I also know now that I hurt you, and we were broken up. You had every right to take another lover."


    Arthur pauses, then adds, "Besides, you''re a beautiful young woman. Surely you had a lot of men vying for your attention."


    I hold back augh. "Believe it or not, most men aren''t interested in single mothers. Especially not humans."


    Arthur doesn''t react to that, although I can see the faint tick in his jaw as if the thought pains him.


    I swallow and ask, "What about you? Have you... seen anyone in the past five years?"


    His


    eyes flick to mine, and there''s a moment of hesitation. I wonder if he''s having the same thoughts I had- trying to decide whether to tell me the truth or not.


    After a few seconds, he shakes his head. "No. Selina has been my only partner. Not that it counts. We never treated our arrangement as a romantic one."


    I want to tell him that that doesn''t necessarily mean they might not have had sex- plenty of people have sex without romance involved-but I don''t. Instead, the mention of her makes me recall Augustine''s fear earlier, the way she thought I was Selina and said, "I''m not falling for your tricks again!"


    Again.


    As if Selina has harassed her in the past.


    I still think it was just a dementia episode, but even so, Augustine''s fears had to


    be based in some kind of reality. "Selina," I say, trying my best to ignore the way


    the feeling of her name on my tongue makes me want to throw up, "does she visit often?"


    Arthur nces at me. "You''re bothered by her visit earlier today."


    "I''m just curious, that''s all."


    He pauses, then his jaw hardens. "She visits about once a week for various reasons. Although, I wish she would visit less than that."


    With that, Arthur turns on his heel and leaves the room, his shoulders tense. I stare after him, somewhat


    surprised. This isn''t the first time he''s implied a dislike for Selina, and he certainly made no attempt to hide it just now.


    At first, I almost feel relieved to know that he doesn''t like her. But really, it just makes me pity him in a not-so


    nice way.


    Is the political gain he receives from marrying into Selina''s family really more important than his own life, his own desires? Than our love? Our family?


    And if he''s really willing to marry someone he so clearly dislikes just for an extra modicum of political power, then what other lengths will he go to in order to get that power?

 Chapter 66

    Iris


    It''ste, and I''m still up reading. The crickets are chirping outside, the room illuminated only by the faint glow of themp on the bedside table. Miles is fast asleep beside me, curled up beneath the covers.


    I started reading the book from the beginning, since I forgot most of the plot. I forgot how funny and romantic it is --it''s a love story about a farmer hiring a nanny after his wife passes away, and the two of them slowly fall in love. It''s sweet, meaningful, and makes meugh on more than one asion.


    But it''s not just the book that makes me smile. It''s the way that sitting here, propped up in bed with a romance novel in myp, reminds me of days gone by.


    Sure, I might have been in my old bedroom back then, not the guest room. And Miles wasn''t here then. But everything else is the same the faint hum of the city below, the crickets, the trees rustling in the breeze through the open window.


    That is, until I hear the sound of ss shattering downstairs, followed by a curse.


    I frown, quietly closing the book and carefully slipping out of bed so as not to wake Miles. I pad down the hall- avoiding all the creaky floorboards out of a habit that I long since forgot about-and make my way downstairs.


    The first thing I hear is Arthur''s voice muttering strings of curses. When I peek around the corner to the living room, I see Arthur crouched with his back to me in front of a mess on the floor. It looks like one of his highball sses fell and broke, dark brown liquor spilling across the hardwood.


    He''s picking up shards of ss, and he doesn''t see me.


    I almost go to him and offer to help, but for some reason, I don''t. Rather, I watch covertly from around the corner as he picks up the shards, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. I can''t quite make out what he''s saying aside from a curse word here or there, but he sounds frustrated. And his hands are shaking ever so slightly, which is strange for him.


    When he stands, he sways slightly as if drunk.


    I quickly hide behind the wall, pressing myself to the wallpaper as he shuffles into the kitchen. His footsteps sound slow and heavy. So he is drunk.


    Now, I''ll be the first to admit that Arthur always loved an expensive drink at the end of the day when we were together. He used to pour himself a ss of bourbon, and I would have some red wine, and we would nurse our drinks slowly in front of the firece while listening to music on the record yer. I never saw any issue with that.


    But getting drunk, all by himself... It doesn''t feel like him. Arthur was always dedicated in his belief that one should never get drunk withoutpany, and even when drinking withpany, one should know one''s limit before getting sloppy.


    This is different, though. This isn''t like him at all.


    peer around the corner onest time, only to see Arthur new hunched over the sink, gripping the edge with white knuckles. His hair is hanging in his face, and he''s inhaling deeply as if trying to calm himself. I watch him for a moment, confused and concerned.


    Suddenly, he lifts his head and begins to turn.


    Before he can see me, I quickly slip away and hurry back upstairs. If he hears me, which I don''t think he does, he doesn''t call out or follow me.


    $


    The next morning, while Arthur is at work, Iplete the gainting of the park bench and leave it to dry next to the open window. I already have a n for the second painting, but I''ll need some more shades of green paint and a special brush, so I briefly leave Miles with Cliff and run out to the art supply store.


    In the store, I inhale the scent of paints and paper, filling my basket with various things. I try not to splurge, although it''s difficult; I''m a sucker for new art supplies. My current financial situation is a factor, though, so! keep it to a minimum, just picking up what I need before heading to the counter.


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 Chapter 67

    "That''ll be fifty dors and thirty-two cents," the cashier, grouchy-looking old woman with wispy white hair, says without looking at me.


    I dig into my wallet for my card and swipe it across the card reader. It declines.


    "Strange," I say, swiping it again. I know I have enough money in my ount; I just deposited the cash I earned from selling that painting. But once again, the machine buzzes, ''Card Declined'' popping up in red letters.


    The cashier frowns at me. "Do you have another method of payment?" she grunts.


    I shake my head, biting my lip. I don''t keep my credit card on me to avoid using it unnecessarily, and I have what some might call an irrational hatred for those virtual wallet apps. Besides, my debit card should work. I''m broke right now, but not that broke.


    "One moment," I say, pulling out my phone to check my bank ount app. Maybe I identally deposited the money into savings.


    The cashier folds her arms as she waits, tapping her foot impatiently. I quickly navigate to my ount, only to see that a hold has been put on my card.


    Why?


    Shaking my head, I quickly call my bank. There are no other customers in the store, so I figure it''s not a big deal, although the cashier rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath that I can''t make out. After a few minutes, I manage to talk to a customer service representative and exin the situation.


    "Ma''am, you called yourself just yesterday to report that your card was stolen," the representative replies.


    I frown. "No, I didn''t. I have my card in my hand right now.


    "Well, then this will need to be sent to our fraud department,¡± she says. "We can send you a new card in the meantime, but it will take a few business days to arrive."


    Great. Just what I need right now. I thank the representative and hang up.


    "Someone falsely reported my card as stolen," I say, forcing a tense smile as I look at the cashier. "Can I leave my things here while I run home to get my credit card? It won''t take long..."


    The cashier''s eyes narrow. "I won''t let you waste my time.


    I blink in surprise. "I just need my credit card-"


    "If you''re going toe into a store, human, then you shoulde prepared," the cashier barks. "For all I know, you just came here to case the ce and now you''re going toe back with your other human friends to rob me."


    "What? I''m not going to rob you!" I retort,ughing wryly just because of how ridiculous the usation is. "I''m literally just going to run down the street and get my credit card so I can buy the supplies."


    But the cashier isn''t listening. She shakes her hand at me as if trying to shoo me away. "Get out! I don''t want to see you back here!"


    "That''s not fair! I-"


    "I''ll pay for her things."


    A familiar voice causes me to snap my head up. I''m surprised to see Arthur''s Beta, Ezra, standing behind me. He reaches into his wallet and pulls out a fifty plus an extra ten dor bill, pping both down on the counter.


    "Keep the change," he says, then grabs the bag containing my things and shoves


    it into my hands. "And next time you''re racist to a human customer, you can expect a formal warning from the Ordan Business Bureau,"


    The cashier gawks in surprise, but takes the cash. Ezra storms out of the store, and I stare after him for a moment,pletely baffled.


    But then it hits me. Gasping, I rush out of the store after him. He''s briskly walking down the street as if trying to put distance between us.


    "Hey! Ezra!¡± I shout after him, causing him to freeze. "Did Arthur hire you to follow me around?"


    +25 BORES

 Chapter 68

    Iris & Arthur


    Iris


    The Beta stops in the middle of the sidewalk, his shoulders tensing. I storm toward him and grab his arm, forcing him to turn and look at me.


    "He told you to follow me around, didn''t he?" I growl, folding my arms tightly across my chest. "How long have you been following me, hm? Have you watched me go to the bathroom, too?"


    Ezra''s face flushes. "I didn''t-"


    "Just tell me the truth," I insist.


    He stares at me for a moment, clearly battling between his duty to his Alpha and not getting decked in the face by a woman half his size. Finally, he nods. "Yes. Alpha Arthur asked me to keep an eye on you when you go out. It''s just for safety purposes, though. Nothing more."


    "Safety purposes," I echo with a wry scoff. "Yeah, right. He''s trying to build more of a case against me in court, isn''t he? So he can get custody of Miles, or force me to get back together with him, or whatever the hell his angle is."


    The Beta blinks. "Not as far as I''m aware," he says. He pauses, then adds with a slight curl of his lip, "Although, it''s not like you can afford awyer anyway, so I''m not sure what ''case'' you''re referring to."


    My stomach drops. "How do you know that?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.


    Ezra shrugs. "It''s sort of obvious. You couldn''t even afford those art supplies just now." He gestures to the bag in my hand.


    "That''s unrted," I retort quickly. "Someone reported my card as stolen and the bank closed my ount."


    "Regardless, you still can''t afford awyer. That''s why you were running around the other day, trying desperately to sell your artwork in every pawn shop in town before you gave up and started hawking in the park."


    My cheeks turn red. I realize there''s no use lying now, and my shoulders slump as I mutter, "Does he know?"


    "I haven''t told him yet," Ezra says.


    "Are you nning on it?"


    "I am."


    I swallow hard, my throat bobbing with the motion, and look away. Truthfully, I''m embarrassed. I talked this big talk about having a sessful career and being a good mother without any help, and meanwhile it''s been my own actions that have gotten me in this situation.


    But it''s not all hopeless. "I''m going to have enough money soon," I manage. Ezra''s eyes narrow. "That''s assuming you sell any artwork at that exhibition."


    I nce up at him, and almostugh at the incredulity of the entire situation. Following me for ''safety purposes'', and yet he seems to know every detail of my personal life.


    "I will sell artwork," I say, taking a step closer to him. "And I hope you''ll do the right thing and avoid telling Arthur about this."


    "Why should I lie to my Alpha for your sake?" Ezra asks.


    Honestly, I don''t have much of an answer for that. If Ezra goes against his Alpha''s wishes, then it coulde back to bite him in the ass sooner rather thanter. But I don''t want Arthur to know the truth about my struggle with finding awyer, because he''ll just use it against me.


    For all I know, he might use my financial issues as leverage to get custody of Miles, or to force me to get back together with him. If he was willing to arrest me over a twisted contract use just to get me to stay, then I wouldn''t put this past him.


    "Tell you what," I finally say, pulling my shoulders back. "Just give me until the exhibition in a week and a half to get the money together to afford awyer. Don''t mention this to Arthur, and in exchange, I''ll...I''ll paint you a portrait."


    His eyebrows shoot up, although I''m not sure if it''s amusement or surprise. Maybe both. "A portrait?"


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 69

    I nod. "For free. Of whatever you want."


    "Why the hell would I want a portrait?"


    "Because a ''Flora'' original is going to be worth a fortune someday," I reply, not caring how haughty I sound at the moment.


    The Beta stares at me, clearly not buying it. I don''t me him, of course; lying to Arthur is a big deal for him, and a painting is, well, a painting. But I hold up the bag of supplies and say, "Besides, I owe you for these. And... Thank you, by the way."


    Ezra nces at the bag and sighs. "I''ll consider it," he says nomittally.


    That''s good enough for me, I suppose. For now.


    With that, Ezra and I make our way back to the apartment building side-by-side in silence. It''s not the mostfortable silence, but I have to admit-it is sort of nice to have somepany on my walk.


    When we arrive, however, wee upon a scene that I wasn''t expecting. There''s a line of cars outside the building, drivers shouting and honking their horns.


    And there, standing in the middle of the street, is Augustine in her nightgown.


    4


    Arthur


    It''s been a long day-a long week, really-and I''m eager to get home. In fact, I leave the office a few minutes early, looking forward to making dinner with Iris and Miles. It''s strange having them in the apartment, but it also feels right. I just wish Iris would stay without a fuss.


    Just as I''m rounding the corner to the apartment building, I notice an ambnce and a police car sitting outside. My heart lurches. Are Iris and Miles hurt?


    I quickly park the car, slipping on my hat and sunsses, and rush inside.


    Iris is sitting in the lobby, Cliff and Ezra and a few EMTs standing nearby. Augustine is sitting beside her. They''re both...ughing.


    I hesitate, not sure what to make of the scene. Augustine, the elderlyndy, has been battling the first symptoms of dementia for some time now. The once bubbly, intelligent, and feisty woman stopped smiling once Iris left, and as ofte, she''s hardly even left her apartment.


    But now...


    Cliff hurries up to me, pulling me aside with Ezra. "What happened?" I whisper.


    Ezra nods his head toward Augustine. "Iris went to the art supply store, and I went with her. When we came back, Augustine was standing in the street, confused."


    I look at Cliff, who''s wringing his hands nervously. "She was having one of her episodes," he says softly. "I tried to get her toe in, but it just frightened her more. While I was calling an ambnce, she ran into the street. It''s a good thing Iris showed up when she did."


    "Iris managed to pull her out of it?" I ask.


    Ezra''s face pales slightly. "It was uncanny," he says, ncing over at where Iris is still sitting with Augustine,


    as can be."


    I blink, surprised. I''ve been around to witness a couple of the elderlyndy''s episodes, and none of us have ever been able to calm her down once she gets in a state. She gets paranoid sometimes, iming that people are plotting against her. Even Cliff, who she''s known for decades, is some sort of secret government spy in her eyes af times.


    But now that Iris is here, she snapped out of it right away? doesn''t make sense, and yet....


    I can''t quite believe it, but at the same time, I can. Iris is a kind, sweet soul at her core, even after all these years of resentment and heartbreak. Even Augustine can sense that in the midst of an episode.


    And it''s moments like this that make me wish even more that she would just stay here with us.

 Chapter 70

    "Are you sure you don''t want toe with us, Ms. Tarrou?


    Augustine nces up at the handsome male EMT as she lowers herself into her armchair and waves her hand dismissively. "No, no. I''m feeling much better now. You''ve been a great help."


    The EMT looks at me, and I shrug, showing him to the door. He gives me a number to call if Augustine has another episode before he leaves. I thank him and shut the door.


    "Make sure you lock it," Augustine calls, shivering in her chair. "Just in case..."


    I shoot her a sidelong nce, but oblige. When I make my way back over to her, she has her feet propped up on the ledge in front of the woodstove. She looks a whole hell of a lot better than she did when I found her standing dazedly in the middle of the street earlier, although she still looks a bit shaken.


    When she saw me earlier, though, something in her changedpletely. The look of panic on her face turned into a pleasant smile, and she shuffled over to me, holding her arms out for a hug.


    "I still can''t believe you''re here," she says now, shaking her head. "And to think I was so rude to you yesterday!"


    "It''s alright, Augustine," I reply with a smile as I take a seat in the rocking chair beside her. "You just mistook me for someone else, that''s all."


    The elderlyndy''s face hardens at the reminder. "Well, you''re not her," she says with a shudder, even though it''s quite warm in here between the warm spring weather outside and the wood stove going. "You''ll never be like that woman."


    I can''t help but shudder a little, too. Something in Augustine''s voice makes me feel ufortable.


    "Can I ask,¡± I say, turning in my chair to face her, "why would you be so unwilling to open the door if I was Selina?"


    Augustine''s brown eyes, normally sparkling with life, suddenly go cold. She wrings her hands. "She''s a bad woman," is all she says, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield herself from the thought. "A very bad woman."


    I can''t entirely disagree with her, I''m afraid. I think Selina is nasty to her core. But I also don''t want to feed into a dementia patient''s delusions, so I decide to let the subject go. She''s only just started to feel better, and I don''t want her to spiral again.


    Earlier, Cliff told me that she has delusions about government spies watching her; that she ran out of the apartment building iming that people were in her walls.


    We all know that''s not true, of course. And it breaks my heart that she feels so unsafe.


    "Well, maybe you should write a note to yourself and put it on the door," I say. "We''lle up with a code: if I knock three times quickly and then two times slowly, that''s how you''ll know it''s me when I visit."


    Augustine seems to like that idea, and I help her craft a note that she can tape to the inside of the door. I have her add her signature so she knows that she was the one who wrote it, and not the ''spies'' who are allegedly following her.


    Just before I leave, we tape the note to the door. Augustine sees me out, hesitating in the doorway.


    "You''lle back tomorrow?" she asks hopefully.


    I nod and give her hands a warm squeeze. Her fingers are slimmer and more knotted than five years ago, the skin papery and loose. But it''s still her. "Of course," I say. "I''lle every day at noon on the dot, just like old times, and we can have tea and cookies and talk about books."


    Her face lights up, and she squeezes me back with a strength that surprises me. "I''m so d you and Arthur are back together, you know."


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 71

    1 blink, not sure what to say. I don''t know if I have the heat to tell her right now that we''re... not.


    But Augustine goes on, "Ever since you left, it became awfully quiet up there. I miss hearing the musicte at night. And the sound of you twoughing."


    My heart wrenches painfully at the reminder. When we were together, Arthur and I used to dancete at night to the music ying on the record yer. It was always after dur nightly drink, and he would twirl me around the living room until my face hurt fromughing.


    I miss those days. I miss that we can''t just fall back into them.


    But I steel my heart, refusing to forget what has happened between us. Arthur chose political power over love, and didn''t consult me before he made his arrangement with Selina five years ago. Furthermore, he''s acted like I''m a gold digger on numerous asions, lied to me, and has resorted to arrest to get me toe back.


    I can''t forgive that.


    Over the following week, I visit Augustine every day just as promised. She meets Miles, who warms up to her slowly but surely, and the week goes by without a hitch. Iplete my paintings for the exhibition, and to my surprise, Ezra doesn''t seem to tell Arthur about thewyer troubles.


    Eventually, the day before the eventes, and I realize that I sent all of my more formal outfits back to Bo''Arrocan when we were supposed to leave Ordan. I only have my practical everyday clothes, and it''s a ck tie event, so I''ll need something nice.


    I consider snooping through my old shared closet with Arthur, figuring my old dresses are still there. But I can''t bring myself to go into our old bedroom, so I decide to head to a nearby thrift store to look for something inexpensive to wear. My new card came in the mail, so I can actually buy something now.


    It''s pouring rain, but I head out anyway, allowing Ezra to give me a ride. He waits in the car while I head into the shop, and I begin to peruse the dresses, picking out a few that might suit me for the event.


    I''m not shopping for long, though, before someone notices me.


    me by the fitting rooms. "I know you. You''re the President''s human mate,


    "Hey," a woman says, walking up to aren''t you?¡±


    I open my mouth, suddenly feeling my throat go dry. "You must be mistaken," I finally manage.


    The woman narrows her eyes. "No, I definitely recognize your face." She turns to another woman nearby, who I''m assuming is her friend. "Hey, Patty, look at this. It''s the President''s human mistress, isn''t it?"


    The other woman sidles up to me, her eyes flicking to the dresses in my hands. "No, that can''t be her. The President wouldn''t make his mate shop in a thrift store. He''s so rich, he can afford to spoil his wife and his mistresses."


    They both turn to me then. "Doesn''t he provide for you?" the first woman asks.


    I don''t answer. Instead, muttering some feeble excuse, I shove my dresses on the end of a nearby rack and hurry out of the store. Tears prick my eyes, the type of thick, hot tears that aren''t easily blinked away.


    Mistress.


    Even if his marriage to Selina is just political, that''s all the public will ever see me as. The human mistress who isn''t even worthy of being provided for. And if I did let him provide for me, I''m sure they''d take issue with that,


    too.


    I climb into the car, instructing Ezra to drive away without an exnation. He stares at me for a moment, confused, before he puts the car in drive and peels away from the curb.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 72

    Iris


    The following day is the day of the exhibition, and I still don''t have anything suitable to wear. But after yesterday''s incident, I don''t exactly feel inclined to go out shopping. Plus, it''s pouring rain even harder than yesterday.


    The most obvious solution, of course, is to raid my old closet for a dress.


    But that''s easier said than done. I find myself standing outside the bedroom door, trying to build up the courage to open it and go inside. Even from here, I can practically smell Arthur''s cologne lingering in the air, and I can see the exactyout of the room if I shut my eyes.


    This is the third time I''ve stood outside this door today. The first time was this morning, before breakfast, and I hesitated for a split second before I quickly turned on my heel and went downstairs. I told myself I would just have coffee and breakfast, and then I would go into the room.


    However, the second time, Isted until my fingertips touched the doorknob. Then, I shook my head and hurried away, iming I had to check on Miles.


    And now here I am, standing outside this damn door for a third time. The event is


    in just a few hours, and I don''t have any more time to waste.


    Taking a deep breath, I turn the handle and open the door.


    Just as I suspected, everything is exactly the same as I left it. The four-poster bed is still sitting in the center of the room, the same cream-colored duvet is spread across the mattress, the same vintagemp is sitting on the bedside table.


    There are differences, though. Minor ones. This seems to be the one room that Arthur tried to erase me from; the books I once kept on the nightstand are gone, and the bottles and tubes of lotions and perfumes that I didn''t have time to pack before I left are no longer there-likely thrown out.


    Taking a step into the room, that one squeaky floorboard creaking beneath my feet as always, I''m hit by the scent of Arthur''s cologne. It''s woodsy and fragrant, like ash trees and campfire smoke, and it makes something warm and pleasant pool up inside of me.


    I hold my breath against the scent, refusing to let nostalgia get to me. I turn on my heel and head for the walk-in closet, hoping that he didn''t throw out all my old clothes. When I turn on the light, I''m relieved to find that the rack to the left is still full of my old things.


    I let out a small sigh and walk into the closet, my shoulder brushing the row of suits and sweaters on Arthur''s side. Unfortunately, the scent is even more profound in here. I can''t tell if I want to breathe it in or retch. Maybe a little bit of both.


    As I begin to rifle through my old clothes, pulling out a few cocktail dresses that I think might suit me for tonight, my elbow bumps one of Arthur''s hangers and sends a knit sweater cascading to the floor.


    Sighing, I stoop to pick up the sweater. It''s soft beneath my fingers, and... dammit, it smells like him just like everything else in here.


    Without thinking, I lift the sweater to my nose, driven purely by desire and instinct.


    I inhale deeply before I can stop myself, and the familiar smell of him envelops me like a warm nket.


    Once, I used to steal Arthur''s sweaters on a regr basis. Whenever he had to travel for work or when he''d be outte, I would slip one on forfort, curling up with the smell of him. Even now, five years and a whole world of heartbreakter, I feel the urge to tug the sweater on over my head.


    I know I shouldn''t, but I can''t help it. I feel driven by internal forces that are outside of my control, which I know is the mate bond at work. The scent that overwhelms me isn''t Arthur''s cologne anymore, but rather his natural scent, the sort of scent that only a werewolf''s mate can pick up.


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    And it smells like home.


    Before I can think twice, I''m suddenly pulling the sweater on over my head, drawing the thick fabric up to my nose and inhaling deeply. A sense of calm washes over me that I haven''t felt in years, and I allow myself a moment to enjoy thefort. Just a moment, I tell myself,hen I''ll take it off.


    With that, I move out of the closet,ying the dresses I''ve picked out on the bed. I run my fingers across a pearly- white number, but it feels a little too formal. I then hold up the deep lc ankle-length gown that I''ve chosen, but the pl


    unging neckline feels like too much.


    Finally, I settle for the ck cocktail dress that I used to wear often. I know it looks good on me, hitting just above my knees while the thin straps show off my shoulders.


    I then pick up the dresses I didn''t choose, nning on putting them back, when something catches my eye. Arthur''s bedside table drawer is cracked open, revealing what looks like a photographying within.


    This time, something other than a mate''s instinct drives me. This time, it''s pure nosiness that prompts me to open the drawer and pull out the picture.


    As I hold the picture in my hands, my heart sinks heavily. I slowly sit down on the bed, staring at the picture.


    It''s... us. Younger, happier, and smiling. We''re wearing our bathing suits, sitting on the sunny beach with a


    vibrant nket beneath us and a pic spread around us.


    We look... in love.


    I don''t realize that tears have begun to prick at my eyes until I hear the sound of footsteps approaching.


    Shit.


    I look around wildly, making a snap decision. I''m wearing Arthur''s sweater and snooping through his things-I can''t give him the satisfaction of seeing that. So I quickly put the picture away, closing the drawer, then grab the dresses and rush into the closet, where I hide amongst the racks


    As the door opens, I silently kick myself for being here. Surely Arthur will find me and scold me; or he''ll justugh at me, never letting me live it down.


    But when I peer through the crack in the closet door, it''s not Arthur that I see walk in.


    It''s Selina.


    I furrow my brow as I watch her stand in the middle of the room, sniffing the air and looking around. I wonder if she can smell me; with Arthur''s strong scent in here, she likely can''t tell that I''m hiding in the closet, especially since I have his sweater on as a sort of protective shield against my natural scent. But she can certainly tell I was


    here.


    More importantly, though, why is she here?


    Huffing, Selina struts over to the bed and sits down in the exact spot I was just sitting, crossing her legs. She pulls her phone out and begins texting furiously, as if typing out a long message to someone. I watch her back, observing silently as she flips her hair over her shoulder with a manicured hand.


    Selina remains like that for a long time. A very long time. So long, in fact, that the sound of the rain outside and Arthur''s scent cocooning me begins to lull me into a sleepy state. When she still doesn''t leave, I finally sit down on the closet floor, leaning my head back against the wall.


    And soon, I''m dozing off.


    The next thing I know, I''m being jolted awake by the sound of the closet door opening. I blink against the light suddenly being turned on and shield my eyes. Arthur is standing above me, looking utterly baffled.


    "Iris? Why are you sleeping in my closet, wearing my sweater?"

 Chapter 74

    Iris


    I scramble to my feet, my face instantly heating beneath Arthur''s confused gaze. I quickly realize that I''m still wearing his sweater, and that I fell asleep in his closet while waiting for Selina to leave.


    "I... Um..." I nce around, looking for some kind of excuse. My eyes finally fall on the pile of dresses, and I scoop them up, holding them so Arthur can see. ¡°I needed a dress for tonight. Guess I fell asleep while I was looking for one."


    Arthur furrows his brow. "Did you not sleepst night?"


    "No, I mean-"


    "And you never told me why you''re wearing my sweater." He reaches up, bracing his arm on the doorframe above his head. A look of amusement flickers across his features, and I feel my heart flutter even faster at the sight of him. Here, surrounded by his scent, wearing his sweater, and looking at his handsome form, I feel suddenly small and foolish.


    "I got cold," I manage, hating how meek my voice sounds.


    Arthur stares at me for a moment, and I know he doesn''t believe a word of what I just said. But thankfully, he doesn''t press. For now, at least.


    "I heard about what happened yesterday, by the way," he says, reaching out to touch one of the dresses in my arms. His finger brushes my wrist as he does, and I suppress a shiver. "At the thrift store."


    The memory pains me more than I would like to admit, and I look away. Thest thing I want is to be reminded of what those women said-about how Arthur should ''provide for his mistresses''.


    Mistresses. Plural. Like I wasn''t once the fucking love of his life.


    I finally manage, shaking my head, "It was nothing. I left before it got too out of control."


    "It wasn''t nothing," Arthur quickly replies. "You should really consider wearing a disguise when you go out in public from now on. It''s okay here, because I''ve kept my identity hidden from the other residents of this building. But when you go out, at least consider wearing a hat and sunsses like I do."


    I press my lips into a thin line and brush past him, having to duck beneath his propped arm to get through the closet doorway. I want to tell him that I hate the fact that we have to hide our identities, that none of this would be necessary if he had just chosen integrity over power five years ago, but I don''t. Instead, I just mutter a promise to be more careful and hurry away.


    "Iris,"Arthur suddenly says, stopping me in the doorway.


    "What?" I turn.


    He nods toward the sweater I''m wearing, a silent question. Blushing, I quickly shrug it off and toss it to him. He catches it in one hand, and that look of amusement crosses his face again before I leave.


    After that, I quickly get ready for the exhibition. The ck dress fits perfectly, gently hugging the curve of my waist and hips. I pair it with some ck heels and dark pantyhose, throwing on a subtle pearl ne for good


    measure.


    Then, I add some shimmery gold eyeshadow to my look, dark red lipstick, and a faint blush to my cheeks. I curl my hair and pin it up into an updo, pulling down a few face framing pieces. Then, just to be safe, I put on my ck sses toplete the ''Flora'' disguise.


    Once I''m ready, the event is starting shortly. I leave Miles with Cliff and Augustine, who promise that they''ll have lots of fun tonight. He''s not super thrilled, but I can''t exactly bring him with me, no matter how much I want to. Besides, it''s still pouring rain outside, which somewhat deters Miles from wanting to leave the building.


    Within twenty minutes, Ezra is dropping me off at the gallery. Arthur isn''ting tonight as far as I''m aware, not that I invited him or expected him to. Ezra promises to pick me up when it''s time and I hurry inside, only getting a little wet from the rain before I make it.


    "Flora!" Alice calls as I enter, rushing over to me. She takes me by both hands and kisses each of my cheeks. "You look stunning. Almost as stunning as your art."


    Before I can respond, she whisks me over to the exhibition space, where my art is hanging amongst the other artists'' work. Each piece seems to glimmer beneath the lights, or maybe that''s just an optical illusion created by the glittery flutes of champagne the well-dressed guests are holding as they mill about. Today''s Bonus Offer

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    I can''t help but clutch at the pearls around my neck. "Alice I really can''t thank you enough for this opportunity," I say, turning to the curator. "It looks fabulous."


    Alice grins and grabs two sses of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to me. She clinks hers against. mine and says with a wink, "This could be the first of many nights like this, if you y your cards right."


    I smile softly and sip my champagne, the bubbles tickling my nose. If Alice is serious about holding more exhibitions here even without the ''anonymous patron''s'' funds, then I want to do my best to make a good impression tonight.


    For a little while, I mingle around the event, talking to the other artists and potential buyers. I manage to sell one piece right off the bat-it''s a painting of two tall bookshelves framing arge, round window, the sun streaming onto hardwood floors. Adder isying on the floor, broken in half.


    The buyer, an older woman with striking ck hair and ck lipstick to match, seems thrilled to pick it up in a couple of weeks'' time.


    With the night off to a good start, I make my way over to the bar for something else to drink. I''m waiting for my drink when a gentleman in a tuxedo approaches me, tapping me on the shoulder.


    "You''re Flora, correct?" he asks, leaning in.


    I nod and sh him an award-winning smile. "I am. Are you interested in my work?"


    "Oh, yes," he says, gesturing to the piece depicting the park bench. "I''m actually interested in purchasing that one."


    "That one is my favorite of this batch," I reply. "It''s listed at one thousand Ordan dors."


    The man doesn''t flinch at the price-most of the socialites who attend events like this don''t. But then he leans closer and says, "If I offer to pay more, can I get a dance as well?" He jerks his chin toward the pianist in the corner, around which couples are swaying and chatting.


    My stomach drops. I wonder if he''s joking, but he holds my gaze, and I don''t see a hint of amusement there. He''s dead serious.


    "Pardon?" I blurt out.


    "Twelve hundred dors for a dance and the painting," he says, his eyes flicking shamelessly across my chest. "A human like you would ept such an offer, wouldn''t you? After all,st I heard, someone was selling your paintings in the park not long ago..."


    I stare at him, stunned into silence. His implication is heavy-he thinks that, because my paintings were being sold in the park, I should jump at the chance for an extra two hundred dors. Like I''m some kind of escort looking to make a quick buck.


    But I won''t.


    "Actually," I say, pulling my shoulders back and picking my drink up off the bar, "my offer is revoked."


    The man looks confused. "What?"


    "You asked me if I would sell you the painting, and I gave you a price," I say, smiling sweetly. "But actually, the price has just doubled. And I have no interest in selling to you."


    Before he can answer, I strut away. My knuckles are white around my drink ss, but I hope he won''t notice. I grit my teeth and move over to one of my paintings, stopping in front of it to catch my breath under the guise of


    admiring my work. As I''m steadying myself and sipping my drink, I look up at the painting, taking in its appearance under the studio lights.


    This piece depicts a woman wearing a gown that''s been shed down the front with scissors, and she''s holding the pieces together in an attempt at modesty. Her eyes are downcast, her face red. It''s called ''Provider''.


    It was supposed to be amentary on the incident that urred in the thrift store, symbolizing the naked, raw, vited feeling of being recognized and scrutinized against one''s will. Now, it just feels even more meaningful.


    Suddenly, I hear a soft, low voice speak in my ear.


    "For someone who sold her artwork for an eighth of its worth in the park, I''m surprised you turned down his offer."

 Chapter 76

    Iris


    I turn, my drink still trembling slightly in my hand, and there he is-Arthur, standing right next to me, looking unfairly handsome in a tuxedo. The ck fabric hugs his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt beneath making his green eyes pop even


    more.


    I didn''t expect him to be here tonight, but for some reason, the sight of him floods me with an unexpected sense of relief.


    But he''s in disguise, a ck mask-the type of surgical mask that people wear when they''re sick-covering his lower face and a pair of sses simr to mine resting on his nose. His hair is styled somewhat differently, too, although of course the curl that used to fall across his forehead is still neatly tamed as always.


    Not that I can judge him for hiding his identity this time, though. I''m in disguise, too. Would either of us be in disguise, though, if it weren''t for his situation with Selina?


    He nods toward my paintings. "Why didn''t you ept his offer?¡±


    "Because I''m not a whore, Arthur," I retort. "I won''t sell my body and time for a little extra cash. You should know that by now."


    His expression doesn''t shift into that familiar defensive look that I brace for. Instead, he steps closer to the painting we''re standing in front of, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He leans in, inspecting the painting.


    "This is lovely," he says softly.


    The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. I study him for a moment, searching for some hidden motive behind those green eyes, but I don''t find anything. "Thank you," I manage.


    He turns to me and gestures around to the paintings hanging on the gallery walls. "Care to give me a tour?"


    I relent, gesturing for him to follow me as I weave through the crowd.


    "This one," I say, stopping in front of the park bench piece "came to me all at once. I didn''t even sketch it out first. The cherry blossoms were tricky, though; I wanted them to look delicate, like they were fluttering down, but not too soft, because I wanted them to be almost indistinguishable from the pieces of canvas past a certain point." Arthur studies the painting, his gaze slowly dragging across the petals fluttering down toward the ground. Halfway down, they be almost identical to the shreds of torn-up canvas, creating an illusion that the canvas- itself was once part of the tree.


    He then nces at me. "How do you decide on the colors for these paintings?"


    I blink, surprised by the question. "Iyer them-start with a base of something softer, then build up with brighter tones. It takes a few tries to keep it from looking too harsh.¡± A faint smile touches my lips as I remember the mess of paint on my overalls when I first started this piece.


    We move on to the next piece then-the bookshelves framing the round window, sunlight spilling across the hardwood, the brokendder sprawled on the floor. I think I might hear Arthur''s breath catch slightly as he makes the connection with the day he caught me falling from thedder, but I don''t mention it, and neither does he.


    "This one''s about nostalgia," I admit, hating the way my cheeks flush ever so slightly as I speak about that day. The way it holds you up until it doesn''t."


    ((


    Arthur tilts his head, studying the painting. He remains quiet, but when I nce over at him, his face is nothing if


    not contemtive.


    Then, he nces at me and says, "I hope you don''t n on actually breaking mydder."


    I snort, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly from my throat. "No, but I thought about it. Just to spite you." His eyes flick to mine, and we share a brief grin¡ªor at least, I''m pretty sure he''s grinning behind his mask, if the way his eyes squint is any indication. For a moment, it feels like all the tension between us melts away, like the old times when we used tough over spilled wine or dance to the record yer until my cheeks ached from smiling.


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    i hate how easy it is to slip into that feeling with him. And how this isn''t the first time I''ve felt the urge to let go of. everything and just return to what was once our ''normal'', as if that''s even possible.


    The third painting is ''Provider''-the woman in the shed gown, clutching the fabric to her chest, her face red with shame. I hesitate before speaking, the memory of the thrift store stinging like a fresh cut.


    "This one is... personal," I finally say, looking away from him. "It''s about feeling exposed against my will."


    That''s all I can manage.


    To my surprise, Arthur still doesn''t say anything, just looks at the painting quietly. This is the first painting we''ve just gazed at without words, without questions or statements or even jokes.


    And it''s now that I realize he hasn''t interrupted once so far he''s just listened, asking little things that show he''s really paying attention.


    It''s disarming.


    I expect him to make crudements, to look confused or maybe even try to twist the narratives of the paintings ¨Csuch as thedder painting, which clearly has connotations that involve both of us-to try and get me to get back together with him.


    And he could, too. He could easily tell me that I''m clearly not over our rtionship, that I''m hurting, that we could have our old life back.


    But he doesn''t. Somehow, the man who used arrest and legal jargon to bend me to his will isn''t doing any of that


    now.


    He''s just... observing.


    We keep moving after that, my voice filling the space between us as I describe thest couple of paintings. We talk about other things, too: the outfits of the other guests, the food, the drinks, the gallery space itself.


    And for a while, it''s... nice. Comfortable. Easy.


    At one point, as we shift to the final painting, his hand brushes mine-covert and fleeting, the barest graze of his fingers against my knuckles. But a jolt shoots through me nheless, hot res sparking beneath my skin, and I nearly stumble over my words.


    I nce at him, but he''s looking at the canvas, and his expression is unreadable. My heart thuds a little too loudly in my chest forfort, and I swallow hard, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from him.


    Finally, we stop in front of the bar, and I''m a little breathless from talking for so long. My cheeks are flushed and my pulse is fluttering more than I''d like to admit, and in a strange way, I hate the thought that this might be the end of our night.


    Arthur suddenly turns to me. "I''d like to buy ''Provider''. For my office."


    I freeze, my fingers tightening around my ss. "Why?" I blurt out without


    meaning to. I expect this to be some sort of maniption tactic-perhaps using the money to keep me under his thumb, just as he''s tried to do before.


    But Arthur blinks. "I just like it."


    For a moment, I just stare at him. I narrow my eyes, trying to discern what his real angle is. But his gaze betrays nothing, and even though his face is obscured by the mask, I feel like I can see sincerity in his expression.


    "I..." I bite my lip, weighing it. I do need the money, but if ept, will this impact our situation? And more


    importantly, will it go against everything I''ve stood for so far? After all, I''ve refused his money on multiple asions now. If I ept now, I''ll just seem weak and desperate.


    Suddenly, before I have to make a decision, a shadow falls across us. I turn to see Ezra rushing over, his face pale. My stomach drops instantly. Something is wrong.


    "Iris, Arthur," he says. "Miles ran away."

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    Arthur and I don''t hesitate. I''m not even sure if I properly set my ss down on the bar before I''m taking off, or if it falls to the floor and shatters behind me. We shove our way through the crowd, ignoring strange looks and murmurs of confusion as we rush toward the door.


    At this moment, I don''t care if our identities are recognized and everything goes to shit. Only one thought is on my mind, piercing through every thought.


    Miles is missing.


    As soon as we jump into the car, Ezra screeches away from the curb. The pouring rain obscures the street, turning the amber street lights blurry and the asphalt shiny as he barrels down the road.


    "Do you know where he went?" I ask frantically, gripping the seat in front of me.


    Ezra shakes his head, and I feel like I''m going to throw up. Meanwhile, Arthur is silent, his face ashen. He must have ripped off his mask and sses at some point, or maybe they fell off during our mad dash out of the gallery.


    We arrive back at the apartment building after what feels like an eternity, although it''s only a few minutes with how fast Ezra is driving. Cliff and Augustine are standing in the lobby. Cliff''s hat is gone, his silvery hair mussed from running his hands through it, and Augustine is sobbing openly.


    "What happened?" Arthur barks, skidding to a halt in front of them.


    Cliff wrings his hands. "I''m so sorry, Mr. Arthur," he says, sounding panicked. "We were ying with Miles in Augustine''s apartment, and I heard noises in the lobby. One of the residents twisted her ankle and I went to help her."


    Augustine hups and continues, "I-I... It''s all my fault..."


    "Augustine,¡± I say, trying not to sound too angry as I move toward her, "what happened?"


    She scrunches up her face. "I... I got distracted," she says, shaking her head. ¡°I went to check on the woodstove and forgot he was there. Next thing I knew, twenty minutes had passed, and... and..."


    "Miles was already gone when I returned," Cliff adds.


    Arthur and I turn to look at each other, stunned. Arthur stares at me for a moment


    in shock and dismay before he turns to Ezra. "Call the police. Now."


    "They''ve already been contacted," Ezra says with a nod. "They should be here soon."


    I shake my head. "Arthur, I''m not waiting for the cops to arrive and take our statements and go through the whole rigmarole of reporting him missing. I''m going to look for him."


    Arthur''s eyes widen. "Iris, it''s pouring rain. What if he-"


    But I''m not listening. "Fuck the rain!" I bark, turning on my heel and striding toward the door. I''m still wearing my cocktail gown and heels, but I don''t care if they get ruined. All I care about is my son.


    I burst out into the stormy night, turning this way and that as I try to discern where Miles might have gone. There''s a kids'' park to the left of the building, so I start in that direction, figuring that Miles might have thought it would be a good idea to y in the storm.


    Arthur chases after me, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain. "Iris! Iris, wait up!"


    I don''t wait, of course. But Arthur catches up anyway, joining in my search. We scan the yground from high to low, searching everywhere-under the jungle gym, inside the slide, even in tree branches.


    "He''s not here!" I call out, turning to Arthur.


    Arthur nods, his face grim, and we move on. I''m not sure what drives me in the direction I choose-a mother''s instinct, I suppose. Or maybe just sheer panic is what sets me moving with no real location in mind. Either way, I don''t slow down, not even as I cross the street and Arthur just barely manages to pull me back by my wrist as a car, not seeing me in the rain, speeds by.


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    "He can''t have gone far," Arthur says as we hurry across the street once the coast is clear. "Not in this rain."


    I shoot Arthur a nce, and I can tell we both don''t fully believe that statement.


    Over the next twenty minutes, Arthur and I rush through the neighborhood, scanning every nook and cranny for Miles. We knock on doors, check under cars, scream Miles name until our throats are raw.


    This is familiar, I realize as we search. Too familiar.


    Once, two years ago when I first hired Miles'' babysitter in Bo''Arrocan, he pulled a simr stunt. He hated her at first, and got so upset when I left him with her one night that he ran off and she couldn''t catch him. He thought he could find me if he ran far enough, but he just wound up getting lost.


    The police had to put an amber alert out, and we searched for hours. Finally, we found him crouched behind a dumpster outside a nearby business...ughing.


    He thought we were ying hide and seek.


    Suddenly, I stop, my eyes widening. I begin to turn around frantically, trying to discern where I might hide if I were Miles.


    Arthur skids to a halt beside me, the rain stering his dark hair to his forehead. "Iris, what are you doing?" he shouts over the noise.


    "If you were a five year old boy, where would you hide during hide and seek?" I ask.


    Arthur furrows his brow, but I don''t have time to exin. He looks around, then points to a nearby trail leading into a small park nearby. We begin rushing in that direction, and all the while, I''m cursing beneath the sound of the rain.


    "I''m a horrible mother!" I grit out, pushing soaked strands of hair out of my eyes as we run. "This happened once before, and I should have known it would happen again!"


    Arthur frowns. "What do you mean!"


    Stomach clenching, I exin the situation with the babysitter. His face goes pale as I speak. "I thought he liked Cliff and Augustine enough to stay with them, but I was wrong," I say, my voice trembling. "And I couldn''t bring him to that exhibition, but I had to go-I needed the money! I thought it would be for his own good!" Suddenly, Arthur turns to me, his chest heaving. "You need the money that badly? Iris, why didn''t you tell me?"


    I hesitate, suddenly realizing what I''ve just admitted to. "I"


    "I could have helped you!" Arthur goes on, shaking his head. "If you needed the money that badly, I would have given it to you!"


    "But I don''t want your money!" I snarl back, my voice harsher than I intend. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I whirl to face him. "If I let you help me financially, then you''d just use it against me down the road! You''d try to take Miles or force me to get back together with you!"


    Arthur pauses, his mouth hanging open. A look of hurt that I''ve never seen before crosses his face, and something about it makes a pang shoot through my chest. It''s only now that I realize that it''s not just rain that''s coating my cheeks, but tears, too.


    Suddenly, the sound of a cry rips through the park.


    "Mommy!"


    "Miles!" I scream.


    Arthur and I both turn, racing toward the sound. We follow it down the park trail and toward the sound of rushing water. My heart leaps into my throat as wee to an abrupt halt alongside a low, concrete wall. Below, dark, muddy water is rushing through a flume.


    And that''s precisely where the screaming ising from,


    Gasping, we lean over the wall to see a fallen free wedged in between the


    concrete walls of the flume. And on it, shivering and barely hanging on, is Miles'' small form.

 Chapter 80

    Seeing my son, soaking wet and clutching a fallen tree for dear life, sends such a feeling of horror through me that I move without even thinking.


    "Miles, hang on!" I scream, kicking off my heels and rushing forward. "I''ming!"


    Miles sobs, his arms tightening around the tree. It''s just barely wedged sideways between the walls of the flume, mere inches above the rushing water. Without the rain, this flume would be a small stream, hardly more than a trickle. But now, it''s death waiting to happen.


    But before I can do something insane and jump in, Arthur grabs my arm and pulls me back, shaking his head. He''s already stripping off his tuxedo jacket. "That tree coulde loose!" he calls over the rain. "We have to be careful, otherwise Miles could drown!"


    My throat bobs, my heart pounding faster than ever. I''m frozen, caught between the instinct to jump into those raging rapids and trusting a man who I haven''t known for thest five years.


    But Arthur meets my gaze, his green eyes sure and steady, and I know I can trust him. I always could. Finally, I nod, and he shoves his jacket into my hands and moves toward the flume.


    "Miles!" he calls, leaning over the edge. "Buddy, can you scooch toward me at all?"


    Miles shakes his head, clearly terrified. "No! It''s too scawy!'' he cries out, and the sound of his speech impediment slipping out due to his fear makes my heart break all over again.


    "Okay, just hang on!" Arthur replies. "Don''t let go!"


    "I-I won''t!"


    Arthur turns, his eyes rapidly scanning the surrounding area. He spots something beneath a tree and rushes over. I watch, clutching his jacket to my chest, as he picks up a long fallen tree branch. He tests it, bending it over his knee to check its sturdiness, then nods and hurries back to the flume.


    Slowly, Arthur extends the branch down to Miles. But even with Arthur leaning precariously over the concrete wall, the branch is still a couple of feet away from Miles, who is clinging in terror to the fallen tree and refusing to


    move.


    "Miles, you have to try to scooch forward and grab the branch!" Arthur says, leaning a little further forward.


    But Miles shakes his head in horror, gripping the tree even tighter.


    I lean forward then, trying my best to offer what I can only hope is an encouraging smile and yet it just feels like a painful grimace. "Honey, you have to be brave! If you grab the branch, we''ll pull you out!"


    "B-But-"


    "Please be brave for us!" I cry, hardly able to hide the tremor in my voice.


    Arthur nods. ¡°I know how brave you are, bud! Just the other day, I heard you hung upside down from the monkey bars on the yground! This is way easier than that!"


    Miles blinks, his face twisted with fear, but our words seem to have an impact. Slowly, he begins to inch forward on the fallen tree, scooching along on his belly.


    "You''re doing great," Arthur says, leaning forward a little further to get the branch closer. "Keep going just like that! Nice and slow!"


    As Miles moves forward, Arthur leans over even more. I grab his hips to steady him so he doesn''t fall in. He mutters a thanks, and together, we clench our teeth and strain toward Miles.


    Finally, taking a deep breath, Miles shakily swats one hand toward the branch. But then the tree begins to shift, and Miles screams, gripping it again. I scream, too.


    "Try again!" Arthur calls out, waving the branch closer to Miles.


    Miles looks terrified, but obeys. He reaches for the branch, and to my relief, his small fingers wrap around it. But we''re not in the clear yet. The tree quivers a little more with the movement, one side slipping down further toward the water. Miles freezes, one hand clutching the branch while the other arm is still wrapped around the fallen tree.


    "Now the other hand!" Arthur guides him, offering him a simile. Not a grimace or a mask, but a real, genuine, encouraging smile. I don''t know how he does it, but somehow, it makes me slightly calmer, too.


    But then the tree shudders again, the one side slipping entirely. A scream tears from my throat as it falls into the water, rushing away down the flume, and yet...


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 Chapter 81

    Miles is hanging onto the branch with both hands, his little legs dangling in the air.


    "Hang on!" Arthur says, slowly pulling the branch up. Once he''s not leaning precariously anymore, I grab the branch too, helping him haul Miles up. It''s slow and painstaking, inch by agonizing inch, but finally, Miles is close enough to touch.


    Arthur reaches over and grabs Miles by one arin, hauling him the rest of the way over the wall. And together, the three of us fall to the ground, Arthur and I copsing to our knees with Miles'' crying form sandwiched between us. I cup Miles'' head to my chest, rocking him, my sobs lost amongst the rain. Arthur''s face is pale, but his green eyes are bright, and his arms are warm and sturdy as they wrap around both of us.


    I''m not sure how long we stay there like that, holding each other. All I know is that soon, shlights illuminate the surrounding area as the police and Ezra arrive. Arthur holds Miles tightly as he rises, helping me to my feet as well.


    But just as we''re about to leave, Miles points to a nearby park trash can. "Wait! We can''t leave the kitty!" he says.


    Arthur and I frown, turning toward the trash can. If I strain, I can hear what does indeed sound like the tiny mews of a kitten echoing inside.


    Without a word, Arthur strides over and reaches into the trash can, pulling out a small, soaking wet orange tabby kitten. He holds it up by the scruff of its neck for a moment, and all of us-the police and Ezra included stare, dumbfounded.


    Miles grins, holding his hands out. "Can I keep it?" he asks, looking at me inquisitively. "Please!"


    My shoulders slump as I realize that tonight''s horrors started over a kitten. But of course I''m not going to say no now. I''d give Miles the sun and the moon and all the stars right now if he asked. So I nod, and Arthur hands the kitten to Miles.


    A little whileter, Arthur and I are standing over the guest bed. Miles is fast asleep, his kitten curled up against his chest, also sleeping peacefully. ording to Miles, he saw the kitten through Augustine''s window and went after it, then fell in the flume. It still feels surreal, knowing that that''s the reason why all of this started.


    Finishing his examination, the doctor hooks his stethoscope back around his neck and stands.


    "He must have a lot of strength for a little human, to hang on like that in the pouring rain," the doctor says with a small smile. ¡°He should be okay, but I''m going to prescribe some antibiotics just in case of pneumonia. Keep him in bed for a couple of days and give him lots of warm broth.¡±


    I nod, clutching the pearls that I''m still wearing around my throat as the doctor leaves. I''m warm now, wearing dry clothes with my hair in a towel, but I''m still shivering from the whole ordeal. Arthur dried off as well, and for the first time, that one stray lock of hair is curling across his forehead as he stares down at Miles.


    Once we''re alone, I turn to Arthur. My throat works uselessly for a moment as I try toe up with something to say. Finally, I manage, "Thank you. For your help. If you hadn''t been there, I might have jumped in during my panic and both of us would have drowned."


    Arthur nces up at me, and there''s a tiredness in his eyes that softens me in ways I can''t begin to describe. "I''m a father," he simply says, turning to leave. "It''s my job."


    I watch him go, touched more deeply by his actions and words than I''ve ever felt. And for the first time, I can''t help but begin to wonder what our future could look like if let Arthur be the father he was so clearly meant to be -if I remained in Ordan after all.


    1/

 Chapter 82

    Iris


    I wake up to the sensation of sunlight hitting my face for the first time in days. The rain has passed, and the birds are chirping in the trees outside, the damp asphalt heating under the sun and sending tendrils of stearn curling into the morning air.


    Miles is still curled up next to me, sniffling slightly even in sleep. His kitten is still fast asleep beside him.


    For a few moments, I allow myself to pause, watching Miles sleep with his newpanion. The two already seem to have made fast friends, the orange kitten snuggled up to Miles'' neck. I shake my head, a fond smile touching my lips.


    "Can''t believe you almost got yourself killed over a kitten," I whisper, more to myself than to Miles. I kiss his forehead, careful not to wake him, then check his temperature.


    Thankfully, Miles doesn''t appear to have a fever, but I know he''ll need extra care today after yesterday''s ordeal. I get dressed and head downstairs to get started on making him some soup and toast for when he wakes.


    When I arrive downstairs, however, I''m surprised to see two men in blue jumpsuits wandering around the apartment. I startle, sping my hand to my throat when one of them rounds the corner unexpectedly. "Good morning, ma''am," the man says, tipping his hat politely. "Sorry to startle you.


    "Who are you?" I ask, frowning.


    6699


    The man taps a small badge depicting a silver shield on his uniform. "We''re from SilverShield services. Didn''t you call to have nanny cameras installed around the premises..."


    I frown, not at him, but out of confusion. I suppose Arthur hired a team toe in and install cameras at some point. But he didn''t warn me that he would be doing this, and when I look around, I don''t see Arthur anywhere. He must be at work.


    "Oh, right," I say carefully, not wanting to show my worry. Feel free to carry on, then."


    The man nods. "We''ll need ess to every room in the apartment at some point. We''ll warn you before entering a room, though."


    I blink. "Every room?"


    "Yes, ma''am. Except for the bathrooms."


    That takes me even more by surprise. "The bedrooms, too?" I ask, to which the man nods before he walks away to continue installing a camera in the living room. He and his workmate are cing it carefully on one of the bookshelves. Even now, as they''re installing it, I can barely tell where it is because of how covertly they''ve hidden


    1. it.


    The thought of hidden cameras being in every room, even the bedroom and likely my small studio, makes my stomach lurch slightly. Arthur didn''t warn me about this.


    After everything that has happened so far, my first instinct is to believe that Arthur is arranging this under the guise of keeping an eye on Miles, but that there''s more


    to it than that. I wonder if yesterday made Arthur question my ability to take good care of Miles as a mother. And maybe the nanny cams are the next step in building a case against me in court.


    Something about it unsettles me, so after I get Miles set up with soup and his medicine for the morning, his kitten happilypping at a saucer of milk on the floor, I call Arthur.


    To my surprise, he picks up on the second ring. "Iris," he says. "I''m just about to head into a meeting. Is everything alright?"


    I take a deep breath. ¡°Actually, I''d like to know why you''re installing nanny cams.¡±


    Arthur hesitates for a moment before answering, "Isn''t it obvious? Miles almost died yesterday. I''m having cameras installed so we can see what happened if he runs off again."


    My lips press into a thin line. Without even thinking, I quickly reply, "But we''re going to be leaving soon. We won''t be living here for long."


    He doesn''t respond right away, and I suddenly feel a pang I wasn''t expecting. Arthur showed true grit and selflessnessst night when he rescued Miles, and I can''t thank him enough. I suppose I''m being cruel by assuming he''s trying to take Miles from me. Maybe he''s just trying to be a good father, something that I need toe to terms with even if I''m still pissed at him for everything.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 83

    Finally, Arthur responds, his voice slightly clipped. "Regardless, I know you have your own things going on right now and can''t monitor Miles every second of every day. I was thinking of hiring a nanny as well."


    I swallow hard. "A nanny..." The thought is intriguing, but know it won''t be easy to find one that Miles connects with. It''s a process that could take weeks, weeks that we might not have. Once I get awyer, I''ll be out of here.


    Just then, I hear another voice in the background, and Arthur sighs. "Iris, I''ve got to go."


    Before I can answer, he hangs up.


    I suppress a sigh as I set down my phone. But hardly a moment passes before my phone buzzes again with an iing text. This time it''s from Alice, who''s contacting me to let me know that all of my paintings soldst night despite my swift departure and that I can pick up my money whenever.


    My heart surges with hope and excitement, and I quickly contact Cliff, who agrees to stay in the apartment with Miles during his lunch break while I run out. I thank him profusely, making Miles pinky-promise not to run off again, and hurry to the gallery.


    When I arrive at the gallery, I find Alice in the main exhibition area. She''s waiting for me with a warm smile on her face.


    "Iris," she says, giving me a hug as I approach. "Your work looked fantasticst night. It''s no wonder it all sold." She tilts her head. "But it''s a shame you had to rush out so soon. Is everything alright?"


    I sigh, not sure how much to divulge. Finally, I settle on saying, "Everything is okay now. And Alice, I really can''t thank you enough for this opportunity. If there''s anything else I can do for you, anything at all, please let me know."


    Alice stares at me for a moment as if trying to read between the lines, but nods. "Actually, Marsiel Gallery is going to be partnering up with one of the other smaller galleries in town, Abbott Gallery, for a lecture series soon. If you''re interested in participating, I can send you the details."


    "That sounds great," I reply with a smile. "I''d love to."


    The curator grins and gives me my checks. Swallowing my pride, I immediately use my bank app to deposit the checks into my ount right in front of her.


    Thankfully, Alice doesn''t judge me for needing the money so quickly. It''s part of what I like so much about her, and the thought of another project with her fills me with excitement. Assuming I''ll still be here and not in Bo''Arrocan, anyway. But I try not to think about that right now.


    Saying goodbye, I quickly leave after that with the intention of heading straight for the Brooks & Lee firm downtown. But as I''m leaving the gallery, my foot kicks something, and I look down to see an all-too-familiar mask and pair of ssesying on the front steps.


    Arthur''s disguise fromst night.


    So it came off during the event after all.


    I quickly pick up the disguise, slipping it into my purse. I hope no one saw our true identitiesst night during our mad dash out of the gallery. If they did, then it might just cause more trouble for us.


    But since I haven''t heard anything so far, I doubt anyone recognized us.


    After that, I quickly make my way to thew firm. To my surprise, the receptionist tells me that one of thewyers can see me right away.


    "Please take a seat," she says, gesturing to a nearby chair. Mr. Brooks will be right with you."

 Chapter 84

    "Mr. Brooks will see you now."


    The sound of the receptionist''s voice snaps me out of my deep thoughts. I look up to see her standing beside an open door, a smile stered across her face. Standing, I quickly smooth down the front of my shirt before I hurry through the doorway.


    In the conference room, a man wearing an expensive navy blue suit is waiting for me. He''s incredibly handsome in the cookie-cutter sort of way, like a male lead from an old ck and white movie. His smile is all teeth as he stands and extends his hand to me.


    "Miss Iris," he says, and his hand is warm and smooth as I shake it. "My name is Albert Brooks, but you can just call me Albert. Please, take a seat. Let''s talk."


    I sit in a chair opposite him in the sleek conference room. The table is long and polished, the sunlight bouncing off the warm chestnut wood. The chairs are just ever so slightly plush, and there''s a vase of lilies in the center of the table. It''s clear that the entire office is specifically designed to set people at ease, and it''s working on me.


    "Now," Albert says, settling across from me. He leans back in his chair, crossing his long legs. "What brings you to my office today?"


    I clear my throat and exin the situation to him, hoping that he''ll be able to help me more than thest guy did. Over the next few minutes, Albert''s face darkens, his brow furrowing as he nods along. He doesn''t interrupt me once, and when I''m finished, he''s silent for a few moments as if considering.


    Finally, he rises from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket.


    "Let me speak to my partner," he says, offering me another one of those award- winning smiles. "In the meantime, my secretary is going toe and take your consultation f*e. It''s all routine."


    I nod, having expected this. It''s why I worked so hard to sell all those paintings, after all. And given my calctions, I think I should just be able to afford the consultation f*e.


    Mr. Brooks leaves, and a momentter, the receptionist enters with a tablet in her hands. She takes my card and swipes it, making casual conversation as I pay the f*e. After signing a few forms, with everything looking up to code, she offers me a cup of tea and leaves.


    Oddly, though, I''m left sitting in the conference room for some time. I send Cliff a text as I sip my herbal tea, and he assures me that I needn''t worry about Miles-he even sends me a picture of Miles happily ying with his kitten in bed, which makes me smile.


    "He named the little thing ''Scout''," Cliff''s text says. "But I think he should have named him ''Runaway''!"


    I can''t help butugh at that; leave it to Cliff to make light of a harrowing situation. Just as I''m shutting off my phone, the door opens again, and Mr. Brooks and another man I don''t recognize-an older one with silver hair and a thin mustache and an equally-expensive suit-enter the room.


    "Miss Iris," Mr. Brooks says, gesturing to the other man, "this is my partner, Mr. Lee. We''ve just discussed your case?"


    I shake Mr. Lee''s hand and the two men take a seat on the other side of the table. I''m surprised when Mr. Lee pulls out a man folder and ces it in the center of the table, closed.


    ¡°Well?" I ask, scooting forward on my seat. ¡°Can you help me?"


    Mr. Lee clears his throat. "Miss Iris, we''ve extensively discussed your case. While


    it''s apelling case, I hope you understand that going head to head in court against the Alpha President himself is no easy feat."


    "I know," I reply, narrowing my eyes slightly. "That''s why came to see you today. I thought you could handle it."


    The two men exchange nces. Then, Mr. Brooks leans forward. "Miss Iris, unfortunately, we can''t work with you."


    My eyes widen. "Why not? Is everyone around here really that scared of Arthur?"


    "Not necessarily," Mr. Lee chortles. "Rather, it''s your actions as a mother that give us pause. We believe that your poor parenting skills make this case an immediate loss. It wouldn''t be in our best interests to-"


    "Sorry, did you say poor parenting skills?" I cut him off, shocked. "What do you mean by that?"


    Mr. Brooks'' eyes sh slightly. He nods to Mr. Lee, who carefully slides the folder to me. I frown and snatch it, flipping it open.


    And sure enough, inside the folder are photos. Dozens of them; sneaky, shaky photos taken of us running through the rainst night, Arthur hauling Miles out of the flume, but not just that. There are photos of me leaving the apartment building dressed up for the event, Miles nowhere in sight. Images of me in my ''Flora'' disguise at the event, sipping champagne and smiling.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 85

    And finally, there are images of me and Arthur running out of the event, Arthur ahead of me. Arthur''s mask and sses have fallen off, disying his identity- and by extension, mine.


    It makes me sick. I didn''t even notice anyone taking photos let alone while we were rescuing Miles. Instead of helping, some creep was photographing us?


    "What is this?" I ask, my voice shaking as I look back up at the two men.


    Mr. Brooks'' lips curl up ever so slightly at the corners. Gone is the man with the award-winning smile, reced by a snake in the grass.


    "Miss Iris," he says, "we believe these images showcase your parenting skills- leaving your son behind with strangers so you could go out cavorting around town. Meanwhile, Alpha Arthur is repeatedly shown taking the pivotal role in saving your son. He was the first to exit the building, even letting his disguise slip in the process. He was the one who risked his life to pull your child out of the water while you stood by, holding his coat."


    I can''t believe what I''m hearing. "But that''s only half of the story," I say, mming the folder shut and shoving it back across the table. "Arthur and I both searched for Miles. It was a team effort."


    Mr. Lee simply shrugs. "Not-from the public point of view. There are already rumors going around in some spaces that you intentionally left your child with a mentally disturbed elderly woman and a flighty old man so you could go and make money off of your artwork."


    "I had to earn enough money to afford your absurd fees," I scoff. ¡°Besides, Cliff and Augustine are good people who just made a mistake. They''re not ''mentally disturbed'' or ''flighty''."


    The two men don''t look convinced. I fold my arms. "Can I at least get a refund, since you''re not going to help me?" I ask.


    At that, Mr. Brooksughs. Laughs.


    "We gave you a consultation," he says. "That''s what you paid for."


    Great. With a huff, I push my chair back and stand. It seems I have to start all


    over again, further dying my exit from this damn city.


    But just as I''m about to leave, Mr. Lee calls out to me. "Ahem. Iris?"


    I turn, curling my lip. "What?"


    He nods toward the folder. "If these photos get out, then you and the Alpha President could be in hot water. You wouldn''t want that, would you?"


    It takes all of two seconds for me to get what he''s implying. "Are you trying to ckmail me?" I ask, nting my hands on my hips.


    "We''re just saying that it''s...mon courtesy to make some kind of offer when ites to such sensitive material."


    "One thousand Ordan dors would be a start," Mr. Brooks adds with a sly grin. "For one picture, that is."


    For a moment, I just stare at the men, honestly wondering if this is some kind of sick joke. But it''s not. And suddenly I realize how they can afford their expensive designer suits.


    But the thing is, even if I wanted to pay these jackasses off, I don''t have that kind of money. Not anymore. Not after I just paid their damn ''consultation'' f*e.


    "Here''s a bribe for you," I say, feeling spiteful. I reach into my pocket, pretending to pull out my wallet, only to sh my middle finger at both of them. And with that, I turn and storm out of the office, leaving the two men behind.


    On the way out, I notice a familiar car waiting for me at the curb. Ezra. I open the door and get inside without even hesitating. He doesn''t have to be a genius to tell what the thunderous look on my face means, and pulls away from the curb without a word.


    After a few minutes, he clears his throat. "Didn''t go well, I take it."


    I shrug and fold my arms. "Lawyers are assholes."


    "Tell me about it." Ezra nces at me. "You know, I never told him about your trouble finding awyer. For what it''s worth."


    "I figured," I say, smiling slightly despite myself. Last night, Arthur seemed too shocked when I told him the truth for me to believe that Ezra went against his word. "Thanks for that."


    Ezra nods, and the car falls silent again. As we pull up to the apartmentplex, I nod toward the building. "Do you still want that portrait?"

 Chapter 86

    And finally, there are images of me and Arthur running out of the event, Arthur ahead of me. Arthur''s mask and sses have fallen off, disying his identity- and by extension, mine.


    It makes me sick. I didn''t even notice anyone taking photos let alone while we were rescuing Miles. Instead of helping, some creep was photographing us?


    "What is this?" I ask, my voice shaking as I look back up at the two men.


    Mr. Brooks'' lips curl up ever so slightly at the corners. Gone is the man with the award-winning smile, reced by a snake in the grass.


    "Miss Iris," he says, "we believe these images showcase your parenting skills- leaving your son behind with strangers so you could go out cavorting around town. Meanwhile, Alpha Arthur is repeatedly shown taking the pivotal role in saving your son. He was the first to exit the building, even letting his disguise slip in the process. He was the one who risked his life to pull your child out of the water while you stood by, holding his coat."


    I can''t believe what I''m hearing. "But that''s only half of the story," I say, mming the folder shut and shoving it back across the table. "Arthur and I both searched for Miles. It was a team effort."


    Mr. Lee simply shrugs. "Not-from the public point of view. There are already rumors going around in some spaces that you intentionally left your child with a mentally disturbed elderly woman and a flighty old man so you could go and make money off of your artwork."


    "I had to earn enough money to afford your absurd fees," I scoff. ¡°Besides, Cliff and Augustine are good people who just made a mistake. They''re not ''mentally disturbed'' or ''flighty''."


    The two men don''t look convinced. I fold my arms. "Can I at least get a refund, since you''re not going to help me?" I ask.


    At that, Mr. Brooksughs. Laughs.


    "We gave you a consultation," he says. "That''s what you paid for."


    Great. With a huff, I push my chair back and stand. It seems I have to start all


    over again, further dying my exit from this damn city.


    But just as I''m about to leave, Mr. Lee calls out to me. "Ahem. Iris?"


    I turn, curling my lip. "What?"


    He nods toward the folder. "If these photos get out, then you and the Alpha President could be in hot water. You wouldn''t want that, would you?"


    It takes all of two seconds for me to get what he''s implying. "Are you trying to ckmail me?" I ask, nting my hands on my hips.


    "We''re just saying that it''s...mon courtesy to make some kind of offer when ites to such sensitive material."


    "One thousand Ordan dors would be a start," Mr. Brooks adds with a sly grin. "For one picture, that is."


    For a moment, I just stare at the men, honestly wondering if this is some kind of sick joke. But it''s not. And suddenly I realize how they can afford their expensive designer suits.


    But the thing is, even if I wanted to pay these jackasses off, I don''t have that kind of money. Not anymore. Not after I just paid their damn ''consultation'' f*e.


    "Here''s a bribe for you," I say, feeling spiteful. I reach into my pocket, pretending to pull out my wallet, only to sh my middle finger at both of them. And with that, I turn and storm out of the office, leaving the two men behind.


    On the way out, I notice a familiar car waiting for me at the curb. Ezra. I open the door and get inside without even hesitating. He doesn''t have to be a genius to tell what the thunderous look on my face means, and pulls away from the curb without a word.


    After a few minutes, he clears his throat. "Didn''t go well, I take it."


    I shrug and fold my arms. "Lawyers are assholes."


    "Tell me about it." Ezra nces at me. "You know, I never told him about your trouble finding awyer. For what it''s worth."


    "I figured," I say, smiling slightly despite myself. Last night, Arthur seemed too shocked when I told him the truth for me to believe that Ezra went against his word. "Thanks for that."


    Ezra nods, and the car falls silent again. As we pull up to the apartmentplex, I nod toward the building. "Do you still want that portrait?"

 Chapter 87

    "They have pictures, you know," Caleb says, checking his nails. He picks an invisible piece of dirt out from under his thumbnail and flicks it onto the carpet. "Brooks & Lee, I mean. They have pictures of you twost night."


    I nce at him, bristling slightly not only at the thought of someone taking pictures


    of us without our knowledge, but also the fact that I''ll have to deal with yet another matter now before I can get home. "How do you know that?"


    Caleb scoffs. ¡°Arthur, I''m the supreme judge of Ordan, and you''re marrying my sister. Those two morons came straight to me when Iris supposedly turned down their offer of a bribe to keep the pictures from going public."


    I resist the urge to smirk. Of course Iris would refuse to give them money for incriminating photographs. She''s too smart for that. Although, I hope she''s also too smart to pay the fees for their ''consultations'', which are really just carefully- constructed shakedowns to try and squeeze every drop of money out of would-be clients without getting caught.


    "Anyway," Caleb goes on with another sigh, this one heavier than thest, ¡°I''ll handle it. If you want. But you have to promise to keep this mess out of the courts."


    "It''s not really up to me if it goes to court or not. If Iris wants to turn this into a legal matter, then that''s her right."


    Caleb blinks at me for a moment, clearly exasperated. But there''s something else there beneath his gaze, an undercurrent of something that I can''t quite put my finger on.


    "Why don''t you just let the boy go?" he finally asks. "He''s not even a werewolf, is he? You and Selina could produce a much better heir."


    My jaw feathers. Like hell I would ever sleep with Selina, let alone produce a child with her. "It''s not that simple," I finally say, refusing to go into more detail.


    Caleb''s eyes turn into slits. "There are ways other than sex to produce a


    >> -


    "Caleb, forgive me," I say, "but I have a lot of work to do."


    My fiancee''s brother looks at me for a moment longer, his mouth working, before he finally huffs and stands." Very well. But don''t say I never do anything for you when you wake up in the morning and those pictures haven''t hit the public."


    I nod, offering him a small smile. "I do appreciate your help, Caleb. I hope you know that."


    He doesn''t look convinced, but bobs his head politely and strides out of the room.


    A little whileter, I''m turning onto my street, eager to get home. There''s a bag on the back seat of my car with a few car toys, a plush cat tree, a cor with a bell, and a whole other assortment of things I picked up for Miles'' new friend. I picked up takeout food too, sesame chicken from the ce down the street that Iris used to love.


    When Iris sees the things, she''ll use me of trying to butter her up. She would be right in that assumption. Partially.


    Tonight, Iris and I need to have a chat. Caleb is right; this can''t go to court. It''ll just make a spectacle of all of us, and won''t be any good for Miles in the long run. If she''s so concerned about keeping his identity secret, then she would understand that.


    However, as I''m pulling up to the apartment building, my focus shifts elsewhere.


    I nce up at the topmost window, where Iris''s studio window overlooks the


    street. The light is on, an orange glow emanating from within. There''s movement, and I lean forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of her in her


    natural habitat-hair thrown back in a messy bun, paint smeared across her nose, that yellow cardigan with the hole in it. She always looks the most beautiful when she works.


    But it''s not Iris who I see in the window.


    It''s Ezra. My Beta.


    Shirtless.

 Chapter 88

    Iris


    Ezra''s face is slightly flushed as he stands across the room, flexing his biceps. I


    can tell he''s caught somewhere between trying not tough and being downright embarrassed by his choice of portrait.


    ¡°Are you sure this isn''t too much?¡± he asks for what I''m pretty sure is the tenth time since we began. "She''s not going to think it''s weird?"


    I can''t help butugh. "Ezra, it''s fine. And if she has a problem with you choosing


    a gift like this, then maybe she''s not the right one for you."


    The Beta lets out a breath. "Yeah, I guess you''re right. I just don''t want to creep her out or anything."


    I shrug as my pencil moves across the pad. Ezra requested a simple portrait of himself flexing in a pose simr to Renaissance era artwork. He told me that he''s been dating a woman recently, and her birthday ising up. Amongst the standard gifts, he wanted to give her a portrait of himself.


    It''s a silly, but also slightly sensual gift. I think she''ll like it I know I would if someone were to give me a simr gift. Besides, I''m no stranger to figure drawing-I''ve sat in figure drawing salons with fully nude models before in art school, and although I''m not the best at it, I do enjoy it¡ªand it gives me something to do while I try to think of my next moves in the search for awyer.


    After today, though, I''m going to have to start from square one. I spent almost all the money I earned from selling my paintings on that scam of a ''consultation'', and now I need to earn more money in the hopes of finding anotherwyer who will actually work with me.


    But I''d be lying if I said I''m not at least a little concerned that I won''t be able to find someone who will help me. Especially if those pictures are exposed to the public. The narrative will be too easily twisted against me, the ''bad/ mother'' who almost let her child drown. Alpha President Arthur will be painted as the hero who saved Miles, and he''ll get custody in an instant.


    Just then, as I''m mulling over these facts, I hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. Loudly. Then, like thunder rolling, footsteps pound up the stairs.


    I hardly have a chance to turn before the studio door bursts open. Arthur stands in the doorway, his eyes glowing a dangerous gold and his chest heaving. He locks his gaze onto Ezra in a heartbeat.


    "Arthur-" I begin, but he storms past me, ignoring me.


    "You," Arthur hisses, closing the distance between himself and Ezra in the span of two quick strides. "What the hell are you doing with my mate?"


    The Beta''s eyes widen. "A-Alpha, it''s not what it looks like "


    "Like shit it doesn''t," Arthur growls. In a sh, his hand shoots out, pinning Ezra to the wall.


    "Arthur!" I shout, rushing forward. I reach for his muscled arm and give it a hard yank back, but it does nothing. When an Alpha wolf feels his mate is being taken from him, he''s prone to jealous fits of rage like this.


    "I shouldn''t have tasked you with following her around," Arthur barks in Ezra''s ear, his grip tightening on his shoulder. "You fell for her, didn''t you? Did you think-"


    "Arthur!"


    Without thinking, I stamp my foot on the floor angrily. The force of it is enough to rattle my easel nearby, sending the pad of paper fluttering to the ground. It''s not much, but it''s enough to cause Arthur to turn.


    "That''s enough," I snarl, poking my finger at his arm. "Look at yourself. Pull yourself together, Mr. President!"


    Arthur''s eyes flicker. He nces back and forth between me, the drawing on the floor, and Ezra. Slowly but surely,. as he takes in the portraitying on the floor, the charcoal smudging my fingers, and Ezra''s terrified expression, he seems to put two and two together.


    One at a time, the golden fires in his eyes go out.


    Arthur slowly releases his grip on Ezra''s shoulder, taking a step back. "I see," he says, clearing his throat. "Ezra, I think you should leave."


    Ezra doesn''t need to be told twice. Without a word, he scoops up his shirt, tugging it on as he rushes out of the


    room.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 89

    Arthur doesn''t move a muscle until we hear the sound of the front door open and close. I don''t move at first, either. Only once we''re certain Ezra is gone does he turn to me, but I''m already shaking my head and turning to pick up the drawing pad with the half-finished portrait on.


    "Iris-"


    "You''re ridiculous," I say, setting the pad back on the easel "Getting jealous like that."


    He bristles slightly. "I''m sorry. I''m an Alpha. It''s in my nature, and despite everything, you''re still... my mate."


    My cheeks heat a little at the reminder, but I shake my head again. "Get a grip on yourself next time. Ezra just wanted a portrait done to give to his girlfriend. If you consider that sexual, then you''ll be furious to find out that I drew fully nude men multiple times in college."


    Arthur clears his throat. "You have?"


    I nod, ncing at him. "Yes. It''smon in figure drawing. It''s good to draw the body uninhibited by clothes, so that you can get a good grasp of the skeletal and muscr structure. I''ve drawn nude women, too."


    "I see," Arthur says, peering out the window where Ezra is currently climbing into his car. He looks back at the drawing on the easel, observing quietly as I touch up some of the linework. "You seem really good at it."


    "Hardly," I snort. "Figure drawing was never my strong suit, and this is just a rough sketch. It''ll look much better with paints.


    "I disagree," Arthur says, taking a step closer. "It really looks like Ezra, even without color."


    I tilt my head to inspect the drawing. "You really think so?"


    Arthur hums and points at the line where the neck meets the shoulder. "You even got how his left shoulder sits higher than his right.¡±


    Despite myself, I can''t quite help the way my cheeks flush ever so slightly from the praise. I nce up to see that Arthur is no longer looking at the drawing, but rather at me now. Blushing even more deeply, I quickly turn away, busying myself with putting away my charcoals for the night.


    "Look," Arthur says, taking another step closer, "I am sorry. It''s just been so long since we''ve been together, and my wolf gets on edge around you. Couple that with you spending time alone with a shirtless man, and


    "It''s fine," I chuckle, waving my hand. "I probably should have warned you first, anyway. He is your Beta." Arthur pauses. When I turn, he''s staring at the drawing once more, and his face is more contemtive. I suddenly feel a little bad for agreeing to draw Ezra shirtless without warning Arthur, knowing fully well just how jealous an Alpha wolf can be with his mate. No amount of tension between me and Arthur can change that biological fact.


    Finally, I clear my throat. "Let me make it up to you," I say, "A small favor."


    Arthur looks up at me with surprise. "Why should you be the one to make it up to me?"


    I shrug. "It''s not entirely your fault that you Alpha males are emotional wrecks," I tease, smiling slightly. Arthur doesn''t smile back, although I think I can see his lips twitch a little in that direction. "Besides, you went to the trouble of having those nanny cams set up today. And you saved Miles'' lifest night."


    For a moment, Arthur hesitates. I think he might decline my offer. But to my surprise, he gestures to the portrait.


    "Can you do one of me?" he asks.


    I blink, surprised. "You really want one?"


    He nods. "Fully nude isn''t a requirement," he adds.


    My face heats, and I quickly look away again. "Um... Yeah, can draw one of you. I can do it tonight, if you want." Arthur''s eyes light up ever so slightly. "It''s a deal. After dinner?"


    "Sure. After dinner sounds good."


    With that, Arthur brushes past me, announcing that he ordered takeout food for dinner tonight and that he has a surprise for Miles, something that makes Miles cheer excitedly from down the hall. I bite my lip, staring at the half-finished drawing of Ezra sitting on the easel.


    It''s just a portrait, I tell myself. But there''s no denying the tiny rush of excitement I feel over the thought of drawing Arthur shirtless.

 Chapter 90

    Iris


    Later, once Miles is asleep, I''m in my studio, preparing my supplies, when the studio door creaks open. Arthur steps into the room, wearing a in t-shirt and trousers. I gesture to the seat I''ve prepared by the window. "Take a seat. And take your shirt off."


    I busy myself with lining up my charcoals as he takes his seat, trying not to look when he grabs the back of his shirt with one hand and pulls it over his head.


    But it''s impossible not to look.


    Arthur was always muscr, the perfect Alpha physique incarnate. He always made time to work out, to eat healthy and look good. But I expected that, once he became President, he wouldn''t have time for such things.


    I was wrong. Somehow, if the size of his muscr arms, chest, and back are any indication, he has even more. time these days to exercise.


    Arthur must notice me staring at the hard nes of his chest and the slope of his shoulders, because he clears his throat.


    "How should I pose?"


    I jump slightly at the sound of his voice, my face instantly reddening. "However you want,¡± I say, hoping my voice doesn''t tremble too much. "Just make sure it''s a pose you can hold for a while."


    Arthur hesitates, considering, then crosses his legs and hooks one elbow over the back of the chair. "How''s this?"


    My throat bobs at the casual posture. In clothes is bad enough, but shirtless... I feel like I''m a flustered schoolgirl all over again.


    "Let me just..." I move forward, and without thinking, I reach out and touch his arm. His skin is warm and smooth beneath my fingertips as I carefully reposition him. Arthur lets me move his body, his green eyes never leaving


    1. me.


    When I''m finished, I pause for a moment before stepping back. "Much better." With that, I quickly turn and get to work.


    As I begin to sketch, Arthur remains quiet for a while. I''m not sure if he can tell that my hands are shaking as I draw, making me have to erase and start over multiple times.


    Finally, after a few minutes, he breaks the silence.


    "I heard you went to Brooks & Lee today."


    My hand stills momentarily over the drawing pad, the memory of those two pricks


    at thew firm making my jaw tick. "Did you?"


    Arthur levels me with a stern gaze. "Did they try to ckmail you with photographs?"


    I freeze again, this time ncing at him. I know there''s no point in lying, so I say, "They took my money for a consultation f*e and then asked for a thousand Ordan dors per photograph. I couldn''t afford it."


    To my surprise, Arthur doesn''t look angry or disappointed, or much of anything, for that matter. ¡°It''s handled," he simply says. "Don''t worry about it.¡±


    I let out a small breath that I didn''t realize I was holding. "Thank you."


    00


    Arthur is quiet for another moment before he continues, "You know, taking this to the courts is going to cause a lot of trouble for all of us. Miles included."


    I frown, my hand moving faster and more aggressively across the paper as I draw the harsh lines of his legs. What else do you expect me to do?"


    "Stay here," he replies quickly. "In Ordan. With me."


    "After you used a contract loophole to keep me here? And threatened arrest?" I scoff. "Why should I stay here after that?"


    Arthur holds my gaze. "Iris, you left me no other choice. I was terrified that you were going to take Miles away and keep me from seeing him ever again. That you''d keep me from seeing you ever again."


    I stare at him for a moment, reading his expression. Truthfully, no matter how angry I want to be, I just... can''t. Not afterst night. Not after the way he risked his own life to save Miles.


    "Your career is taking off here," he continues. "And I know you''re strapped for money right now, but you also know I can help you. Don''t you think that you and Miles both are better off in Ordan, where you belong? Don''t you think it would be better for him to see his father?"


    My grip tightens around the pencil so hard that I almost snap it. I don''t respond, not because I don''t want to, but because I can''t think of a retort. Because Arthur is partially right.


    "Iris," Arthur goes on, "just tell me what I can do to make things right between us, and I will."


    I want to tell him that he could start by leaving Selina and being with me. I want to tell him to swallow his pride and fears and just be with me, publicly, and tell anyone who''s bothered by the fact that he has a human mate to go to hell. Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 91

    But I don''t-because after everything, I have no intention right now of getting back together with him.


    "An apology would be a start," I finally bite out.


    Arthur doesn''t hesitate. He suddenly stands, crossing the room, and grabs my hands. I drop my charcoal pencil as he tugs me away from my easel.


    Then, he drops to both knees in front of me, still gripping my hands. My breath catches in my throat as those green eyes look up at me, wide and sincere.


    "Iris, I am so sorry," he says, his voice soft. "I am so sorry for arresting you, for using the contract against you. I''m sorry for everything. Truly."


    I don''t know what to say. Part of me, the part that still feels hurt and heartbroken after the past five years, wants to believe he''s lying. But as I look into his eyes, all


    I see is truth. He is sorry; that much I can tell.


    And as much as I hate to admit it, I want to kiss him right now. I almost do.


    Without meaning to, the bond that binds us together gently tugs on me, urging me toward him. Even kneeling, he''s still tall enough that I only need to dip my head, and our lips will meet. I hold my breath as I move toward him, and his mouth parts, his eyes half-lidded.


    But I quickly get a grip on myself. Kissing him won''t help any. I might consider staying in Ordan, for my career and for Miles'' sake, and I might even consider letting Arthur have visitation rights, but I won''t let myself fall back in love with him.


    Not after five years of hardening myself, of building steel walls around my soul, of filling in the cracks in my heart. with titanium.


    For my son''s sake, I can''t risk myself breaking all over again.


    So I straighten once more, gently pulling my hands away and lifting my chin. "That''s a start," I say.


    Arthur looks at me for a moment before he rises and takes his seat once more. We work in silence for a while, the only sound in the room that of my pencil scratching across the paper.


    It doesn''t take long for me to finish the preliminary sketch and I gesture to Arthur. "You can get up now and take a look."


    Arthur rises and crosses the room again, taking the drawing pad from me. I watch with bated breath as he inspects the drawing. After a few moments, a faint smile touches his lips.


    "I love it."


    I nce up at him. "Really?"


    He nods. "You don''t even have to add paint if you don''t want to. I like it the way it is."


    I''m surprised, so much so that my cheeks flush a little. "If that''s what you want, then I won''t," I reply quickly.


    Arthur looks pleased, and I tear the sketch from the pad while he murmurs something about taping it to the wall in his home office. I turn to put my charcoals away, and when I turn back, his shirt is back on. I can''t decide if I''m relieved or disappointed.


    "So you''ll stay in Ordan?" he asks.


    I pause, biting my lip as I consider. Miles does love it here, and frankly, so do I. My career is much better off here.


    And if I''m going to co-parent with Arthur, then it''s better to be here. But the thought of having to hide and wear disguises doesn''t sit right with me.


    Finally, with a sigh, I say, "I''ll consider it. But I''ll want to look for my own ce again. And we''ll have to figure out a better solution for the whole issue of getting recognized."


    Arthur looks relieved, but not entirely. "You won''t stay here? With me?" He gestures to the apartment. "Miles deserves a happy family at home."


    My heart aches, but I shake my head. "No."


    He sighs. "What will it take to get you to move back in with ine? Another apology?"


    The implication that I''d consider getting back together with him for a simple


    apology makes me bristle slightly. Without thinking, I say, "Leave Selina."


    Arthur blinks, and so do I. I can''t believe I just said that, but at the same time, I''m d I did. It''s better than lying about what I want.


    And for a moment, just a moment, I allow myself to hold onto the hope that he might actually do it. That he values us our family-over whatever amount of power marrying into her family gives him.


    But he doesn''t.


    "It''s not that simple, Iris."


    I clench my jaw and hand him his portrait, that small flicker of hope instantly winking out. "Then I guess this conversation is over."

 Chapter 92

    Iris


    That night, I receive a text from Alice regarding the lecture series with Abbott Gallery. She''s attending a tour tomorrow afternoon and asks me toe, which I agree to. When I tell Arthur about it, he insists on watching Miles himself, as he has the day off. I hesitate at first, but I know he''ll take good care of Miles, and it makes Miles excited, so I relent.


    The following day, I pull up to the gallery to find her waving excitedly, wearing a lime green mini dress with pink tights and matching pumps. She looks like she stepped out of a 60s magazine.


    "Flora, I''m so d you came!" she says, giving me a hug as I approach. "I didn''t want to do this alone."


    I offer her a smile, especially appreciative of her use of my pseudonym in public, and we head inside.


    The Abbot Gallery isrger than Marsiel, but instead of a sleek, contemporary space with white walls and tile floors, it''s far older and more historic. The stone walls are ornately carved with various depictions of wolves and historical figures, and the marble floors make my heels echo through the entire space as we make our way inside.


    We meet a smiling docent at the front desk, where a group of other artists and visitors has already gathered. I quickly recognize another Ordan artist here, a woman known in the artmunity as ''Be''. Unlike me, I''m pretty sure Be is her real name. She nces at me as I walk up to her.


    "You''re Be, right?" I ask, extending my hand. "I''m Flora, I love your work." Be''s eyes flick to my hand. She hesitates for a moment before shaking her, her grip weak and insincere." Pleasure," she says, and quickly turns away.


    Alice and I exchange confused nces, but both shrug. Artists can sometimes be... aloof, especially if they''re from the city of Ordan. Back in Bo''Arrocan, people refer to Ordan artists in not-so-nice terms, often saying that they think their ''shit doesn''t stink'' like everyone else''s.


    Therefore, I don''t think it''s personal that Be isn''t a conversationalist, and I quickly brush it off as the tour begins.


    The gallery is even more beautiful the further we move into the space, the walls adorned with gilded frames and stunning artwork. Alice and I quietly point out the beautiful architecture and art as we follow the tour group. I even recognize some of the art, and bristle excitedly over the thought of my own work potentially being shown in here someday.


    After touring the main gallery space, the docent then takes us to the auditorium, which is spacious and smells like plush seating and old wood. The stage creaks under our feet as we walk across it, and my heart hums with excitement as I think about giving a lecture here as part of the series.


    By the time the tour is finished, the sun is beginning to set and my stomach is grumbling. Alice turns to me as we head into the lobby.


    "Hungry?" she asks, patting her belly. "I could use a sandwich, if you want to grab a bite together."


    I can''t help but smile. "That sounds nice, actually."


    With that, we head for the door, already discussing nearby restaurants. My eyes then catch a pile of brochures sitting on the front desk, one of them disying an opportunity for an artist residency at the gallery. I pick it up just in case, tucking it into my purse, and we keep moving.


    Be is standing by the door checking her nails, and I pause, smiling at her onest time.


    "It was really lovely meeting you," I say. "Are you going to give a lecture here?"


    Be nces up from her nails, pausing for a long moment before she nods. "I am. You?"


    I nod as well and gesture to Alice. "This is Alice, the curator from Marsiel Gallery. She asked me to represent Marsiel during the lecture series."


    Alice beams. "We''re friends," she tells Be without hesitating, which warms my heart.


    Be snorts. "Quaint." She nces at me again. "I''m surprised that Abbott is hosting a human artist here."


    My eyebrows, shoot up. "Pardon?" I ask. I can feel Alice stiffen beside me.


    Be shrugs, dropping her hand to her hip. "I don''t mean any offense, it''s just... odd. Abbott is a pir of themunity, and it''s been around for over a hundred years. guess times are changing, huh?"


    "Yes," Alice says before I can answer, her eyes narrowing. They are. Maybe it''s about time the people change, too. Humans have had equal rights for decades now, and every gallery in town shows human artwork. I''m surprised that you don''t know that."


    Be''s eyes sh, her lips parting, but Alice grabs my hand before she can speak and pulls me outside. The cool evening air hits me like a p, and once we''re on the sidewalk, I turn to her.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 93

    "Alice, you didn''t have to stand up for me like that.¡±


    The curator waves her hand. "Like I said, we''re friends," she replies, ncing up at me. Her cheeks are slightly flushed. "I mean, I assume we''re friends..."


    I can''t help but smile. I never expected to make friends with anyone here, but the thought makes me happy. Yes," I reply, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and guiding her down the street. "Friends sounds nice."


    A few minutester, we step into a small bistro down the street. The streetlights havee on already, casting amber hues across the cobblestones, and there''s an outdoor patio in the front with string lights hanging between the trees. We pick a table outside, ordering coffee before our meals. It''s nice to sit and not have anyone look at me, since I''m wearing my ''Flora'' disguise.


    As we''re picking out our meals-I try to pick something inexpensive that I can afford-I quickly check the app for the nanny cams. I see Arthur sitting on the bed beside Miles reading from a picture book. The sight both warms my heart and makes me feel ill at the same time, and I set aside my phone, scanning the menu


    once more.


    "Dinner is on me, by the way," Alice says, almost as if she''s just read my mind.


    I flush slightly, feeling bad. "Are you sure?"


    She nods and smirks. "You''re going to make me a lot of money during this lecture series, so it''s the least I can do."


    I snort at that, shaking my head, and we order our meals. As we wait, sipping our coffee, Alice turns to me. "So, how are things? With... you know who."


    My cheeks flush, and I pretend to be very interested in the saucer beneath my cappino all of a sudden. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    Alice sighs. "You two ran out of the event like bats out of hell the other night. It caused a bit of a stir, you know."


    Of course. I figured it would. "Sorry," I reply, chewing the inside of my cheek.


    "It''s fine," she replies with a shrug. "Part of my job is handling socialites at these events. Some free champagne, a few well-timed distractions, and they quickly forgot."


    I let out a breath I didn''t know I was holding. "Thank you." I pause, then add, "I''m staying in Ordan after all, you know."


    Alice''s eyes light up. "You are?"


    "Yes. I decidedst night."


    A momentter, our food arrives. As we eat, I exin the situation to Alice. I''ve already told Brian and Liam over the phone, but it feels good to tell someone in person, especially another woman. Alice listens intently, not judging or interjecting unnecessarily with her own opinions-just listening.


    When I''m finished, and our tes are reduced to crumbs, she leans back in her chair and considers for a moment.


    "Hm... Well, if you need money to get a new apartment, I''ll hang more of your artwork. Can you bring me another five pieces in a few weeks?"


    "Of course," I say, already considering what sort of subjects to paint next. Maybe a portrait collection, since I''ve been figure drawingtely. "Thank you, Alice."


    She waves her hand dismissively. "It''s nothing. But you know, you should really consider that residency at Abbott. I hear they pay their artists very well. They also have a small apartment that they use for residencies, which would


    be a good option while you''re looking for a more permanent living situation."


    My interest piques at that. I do recall the docent mentioning the apartment above the gallery, but she never took us up there. I make a mental note to look at the application when I get home, and with that, Alice and I part ways.


    I return home that night with a smile on my face after a day well spent. Cliff is yawning behind the security desk when I arrive, and offers me a wave as I pass. I head upstairs, already yawning myself.


    When I step into the apartment, though, I''m met with the sight of a shadow moving across the living room wall. I peek through the archway to see Arthur standing by the window, a whiskey ss dangling from his fingertips as he stares out at the street below.


    He''s drunk again. I can tell from the way he''s swaying slightly, his hair somewhat mussed.


    I move to slip away like I didst time, but this time, he spots me before I can.


    "Iris," he says, whirling to face me. He holds up his ss. "Share a drink with me?"


    "Arthur, I-"


    "Just one drink," he says, taking a step closer.


    I pause, not sure if I want to indulge him or not. But the look in those green eyes,


    almost resembling hope, makes me relent.


    "Alright. Just one drink."

 Chapter 94

    Iris


    I step into the living room as Arthur moves to the home bar to pour me a drink. "What''s your drink of choice?" he calls from the dining room, which is adjacent to where I''m standing. "Still red wine?"


    "Yeah," I reply, ncing around before I tentatively take a seat in one of the soft armchairs by the firece. There''s no fire flickering now, the room instead lit by a couple of smallmps and the city lights outside.


    I hear Arthur banging around for a moment, his movements clumsy and slow. A few momentster, he returns with my wine and his ss refilled with whiskey.


    "For thedy," he says, handing me my ss.


    I take it, sipping slowly as I watch him flop into the chair across from me. He looks messier than usual, his typical polished appearance reced by something foreign. But even then, he doesn''t look rxed like he once did five years ago. And that damn curl is still nowhere to be found.


    After a few moments of silence, he looks up at me, "Are you okay?" he asks. "You''re staring."


    My cheeks warm, and I look away, shaking my head. "I''m fine."


    "How was your day at the gallery?"


    I take a deep breath, considering how much to tell him, but finally decide to tell him everything-excluding the residency, only because I still don''t know much about it. Arthur sips his whiskey as he listens, and when I''m finished, he nods and leans back in his chair.


    "That all sounds promising," he says, his words ever so slightly slurred. "I''d like to attend your lecture."


    "It''s open to the public," I reply simply.


    Arthur nods, and we fall into another silence. I watch as he polishes off his whiskey, then reaches for the nearby bottle, which he brought with him when he poured my wine. My brow furrows as he refills his ss.


    "How much have you had tonight?" I ask.


    He shrugs. "Three sses? Four? Not sure. Why?"


    "It''s not like you to drink this much," I reply. "Especially not alone. You always said that a man shouldn''t drink withoutpany."


    "Well, up until this moment, I didn''t havepany to drink with for the past five years,¡± he says, ncing at me. "Believe it or not, but I did miss our nightcaps and dancing


    Despite myself, my heart warms slightly at the memory of our old routine. We used to share a drink a few nights out of the week, and dance to music on the record yer. I recall Augustine mentioning how much she misses the sound of our music andughter, and it makes me soften even more.


    "There''s no music ying," I point out.


    "I can fix that."


    To my surprise, Arthur gets up from his chair, striding over to the old record yer


    in the corner. He picks out a record and ces it on the tter, then gently lowers the needle.


    And the moment I hear the soft strains, I feel as if I''ve beenunched into the past.


    Years ago...


    The rain pattered against the windows, turning the parking lot outside into a kaleidoscope of reds and blues reflecting from the neon lights. The mint green booths were empty, the jukebox in the corner ying an old love song that I hated. And yet for some reason, I kept whistling along to it anyway as I wiped down the counter.


    My shift was still a few hours from being over even though it was nearly midnight, and it was dragging on. In this rain, hardly anyone aside from a few truckers hade in all night. If it were up to me, I would have closed the diner already, but my boss insisted on keeping it open 24/7.


    Just as I was about to sneak into the pantry to read a book until my shift was up, the door opened.


    "Wee," I said without looking up, pulling my notepad out of my apron pocket. "Can I get you started with anything?"


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 Chapter 95

    "Coffee," a gruff voice said. "Cream, no sugar."


    I looked up to see an Alpha sidling up to the counter, shrugging off a rain-soaked trench coat. I grit my teeth, choosing not to point out the trail of water he left from the door to the stool. Alphas rarely cared if I had to clean up after them, especially since I was just a human diner waitress.


    I poured his coffee, ncing at him as he took his seat. He was tall and broad across the shoulders, with a shock of ck hair and a single stray curl that was stered across his forehead from the rain. With the stubble dotting his square jaw, he looked handsome in the most typical Alpha sort of way.


    But it was his green eyes, piercing as they looked up at me, that caught my attention.


    He froze when he looked at me, and I swore his eyes glowed for a moment-like glowing lichen hidden in a dark cave, or the bioluminescent ocean at night.


    In that moment, I felt a sudden and profound connection to him. I couldn''t exin it, not at the time, but I knew that we were meant to meet.


    $


    And somehow, the song ying on the jukebox didn''t sound so bad anymore.


    "Arthur," he said, extending his hand.


    I nced down. "Your hand is wet."


    He cleared his throat, cheeks reddening ever so slightly as he wiped his hand on


    a napkin. "Sorry." He extended it again, and when I shook it, hisrge hand almost engulfed mine.


    I swallowed. "What would you like?"


    "Your name," he replied.


    ¡°I mean¡ªoh,¡± I said, suddenly feeling sheepish for the first time since starting this job. "Iris."


    After that, he ordered a burger and fries, and neither of us stopped chatting the entire time. Nearly two hours passed before he finally paid his bill, and I was reluctant to let him go.


    As a human, I didn''t have the same innate ability to recognize my mate without being marked first, but I knew there was a connection there. Even if he wasn''t my mate, I knew that he could sense a connection, too, which was why I was surprised that he left without taking my information.


    I felt a pang of disappointment as I watched him leave, wondering if he didn''t want me because I wasn''t a werewolf, and he''d just spent two hours flirting with me because he was bored or lonely.


    But then I nced over and saw he''d left his keys on the counter. Grinning, I grabbed them and ran after him, not caring that my uniform got soaked as I burst outside.


    "Your keys!" I called, holding them up.


    He turned, his hair already soaked by the rain again. I ran over to him and ced them in his outstretched palm, and he gripped my wrist, refusing to let me go.


    "You should have given me your number along with them, he said, smirking. "Since when do Alphas y coy?" I teased.


    He simply shrugged, still smirking as I pulled my notepad out and wrote my name and number on a piece of paper that was already soaked by the time I shoved it in his hand.


    Then, with a wink, he climbed into his car and pulled away


    The memory makes a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth. Even now, I can still picture that rainy parking lot, those neon lights, the dark hair stered to his forehead.


    I used to hate this song, but now... Now, it''s my favorite. Even after everything.


    Arthur was so carefree back then. So was I, I suppose. I wonder if that''s why he drinks; to feel that same easygoing feeling, the sort of feeling that an Alpha President isn''t allowed to have.


    Suddenly, I''m pulled out of my daydream by the sound of Arthur''s voice. I blink, looking up to see him standing in front of me with his hand extended.


    Ch

 Chapter 96

    Iris & Arthur


    Iris


    I stare at Arthur''s outstretched hand, and the way it reminds me of the first time we shook hands all those years ago isn''t lost on me.


    "Well?" he asks. "Care for a dance?"


    I hesitate, looking up at him. A dance sounds intimate, and dangerous, and a whole slew of other things. It feels too close to the ''good old days'', too close to giving in when ''ve made it clear that I have no intention of getting back together with him.


    As if reading my mind, Arthur tilts his head. "It''s just one dance, Iris. I''m not asking you to marry me.


    11


    Yeah, I think wryly. That''s sort of the point. If things were different, then maybe he would have asked me five years ago, the very moment I found out I was pregnant with his child. He never would have gotten engaged to Selina and people might have judged us for our rtionship, but he would have unapologetically loved me, and we could have been happy.


    But he didn''t. And he won''t. We won''t.


    Still, I can''t deny him, especially not as he grabs my hand and hauls me to my feet. His palm is rough and familiar beneath mine, and I set my half-finished ss of wine aside, shaking my head.


    "Fine. Just one dance."


    Arthur smiles slightly, pulling me into the center of the room. His left hand curls around mine, the othering to rest on the small of my back. My throat bobs as I ce my right hand on his shoulder, resisting the urge to move it toward the nape of his neck and trace my fingers through his hair like I used to.


    We begin to sway to the music, turning in a slow circle. I stare over his shoulder, at our feet-anywhere but his eyes.


    But truthfully, the movement is so easy and familiar that it makes it even harder not to gaze at him. Before I know it, I''m meeting his eyes, and he''s holding my gaze as if he never intends to let go.


    "When was thest time you danced?" he asks, pulling me just a touch closer.


    I sigh, knowing that he''s trying to butter me up. "Arthur-


    "I''m just curious," he says.


    I shrug. "It''s been a while," I admit. Five years, actually. Unless you count dancing with Miles, which I''ve done plenty of. But dancing with a man... I haven''t done that since we broke up.


    Thankfully, Arthur doesn''t press the subject. But his grip does be firmer, and he begins moving us faster around the room, our feet tracing familiar paths across the carpet. The floorboards creak beneath us, and we narrowly miss a stack of books, which makes a small smile stretch across my lips.


    "You really are drunk," I say.


    Arthur smirks slightly, then suddenly spins me with one hand. I twirl outward, my right arm outstretched, and then he spins me beneath his arm and hauls me flush against his body once more.


    The movement is so natural that I don''t even realize it''s happened until it''s over, our chests now pressed together, rising and falling with sharp breaths.


    Before I can say anything else, he whirls us around again, faster this time in tempo with the bridge of the music. Then, before I know it, we''re twirling around the living room, and I''m...ughing.


    Trulyughing. That head thrown back, chest aching, cheeks sore kind ofughter. And I think Arther isughing, too, although it''s hard to make out his face amongst the blur of our movements.


    Finally, the dancees to an end, and we''re pressed impossibly close. Arthur dips me gracefully, his abdomen pressed to mine, his arm holding my waist with ease. His eyes flick to my lips.


    For a moment, just a moment, I almost consider letting him kiss me. Likest night, I know it would be easy- we''re so close, close enough that our noses are nearly brushing. We could close the remaining distance in half a heartbeat, and I could taste him again, and never stop tasting him.


    And I almost do just that. My eyes begin to flutter closed as his head moves toward mine, and then-


    "Mommy!"


    I startle at the sound of Miles'' voice echoing from upstairs, which is followed by a raspy cough. It pulls me back to reality, and I quickly extricate myself from Arthur''s arms.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 97

    "I should give him his medicine," I say, moving away from Arthur. I hurry upstairs before he can say anything, where I find Miles sitting up in bed, coughing and rubbing his eyes. His kitten is sitting beside him, mewing and pawing at him as if


    in worry.


    "Mommy, I don''t feel good," Miles moans.


    I let out a soft sigh and sit on the bed beside him, spooning his medicine out. "I know, sweety. It''s just a cold from the water. Take your medicine, okay?"


    Miles winces at the vor of his medicine and refuses at first, but finally relents. Within a few minutes, he''s settled again, drifting off to sleep with his kitten in his arms. I sigh again and scratch the kitten behind the ears, then kiss Miles on the forehead and get up, making a mental note to call the doctor in the morning.


    But I don''t go back downstairs all night. Rather, I make my way into my studio, where I spend the night working on a painting inspired by memories that I''ll never forget.


    Arthur


    Iris doesn''te back downstairs all night, and I don''t me her. I probably scared her away, in my stupid drunken state, trying to woo her with wine and dancing and old songs.


    I feel like a fool as I sit in the living room, finishing my drink. It suddenly tastes like ash on my tongue, and I think back to what Iris said about drinking alone.


    She''s right, of course. I never used to drink alone, but then she left, and it became almost a nightly urrence. Never enough to make me sick or hungover, but always enough to dull the pain, to make it easier to sleep.


    Truthfully, I can''t sleep without her by my side. Not unless I''m inebriated.


    Around two in the morning, I finally decide to call it a night I head upstairs, but pause halfway down the hall, seeing a light still on in Iris''s studio. Curious, I quietly open the door and peek inside.


    Iris is fast asleep on the small daybed against the wall, curled up in a half-fetal position. She looks peaceful like this, but also ufortable. I take a step further into the room, careful not to wake her.


    That''s when my eyes catch the easel in the corner, and my heart stops in my chest.


    It''s a painting of the diner. The ce where I met her, rain pouring down, neon lights spilling across the asphalt. If I lean close, I can just barely make out two figures inside, one wearing a dripping wet trenchcoat and the other in a baby blue diner uniform.


    It''s the moment when I realized, right away, that Iris was my fated mate.


    The moment when I looked into her eyes and I just knew.


    I recall that night like it was yesterday-the way we talked for hours, the way the dress of her uniform swished around her legs, a few pieces of her hairing loose from her bun. I intentionally left my keys on the counter, just to see if she woulde after me, and she did.


    She wrote her number on a wet piece of paper and I almost couldn''t contact her because I could hardly read the smudged ink, although I would have just gone back to the diner to find her anyway.


    I remember it all, and it hurts. And what hurts even more is that the woman sleeping on the daybed looks no different than the night I met her.


    *


    Without thinking, I carefully scoop her up and carry her down the hall. She doesn''t stir the whole time, too exhausted to wake. But I don''t take her to the guest room.


    I take her to my room. To our room. I do it without even meaning to, like it''s the most natural thing in the world.


    Carefully, I set her down on the bed, on the right side where she used to sleep. Then, quietly, I crawl onto the other side and pull her close. She whimpers softly in sleep, nuzzling against me just like she used to every night, and my heart breaks all over again.


    That night, just for one night, I fall asleep with her wrapped in my arms.

 Chapter 98

    Iris


    I wake to the sensation of warmth surrounding me, but it has little to do with the morning sunlight spilling through the window. It''s a pair of arms around me that I feel instead.


    Warm, sturdy, familiar arms.


    On instinct, I nuzzle deeper into that embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of my mate. It wraps around me like a cocoon, calming me to my core, far more than the sweater ever did. His arms tighten gently around me, tugging me a little closer, and his lips brush the top of my head in a tender kiss. I can''t help but smile softly at the sensation.


    For a moment, it feels as if thest five years never happened. As if I''ve just woken up in my old bed, wrapped in Arthur''s arms, a smile on my face. I imagine the two of us waking up slowly together, perhaps making love, his lips trailing across my throat and my shoulder....


    And then maybe heading downstairs, perhaps making breakfast together in our underwear before we start the day.


    It would be bliss to experience those days again.


    But then realityes crashing back, just like it always does.


    I don''t belong here. This isn''t my bed-not anymore, anyway. And I certainly didn''t fall asleep herest night-I clearly recall falling asleep in my studio after hours of frantically painting, too exhausted to even walk down the hall to the guest room- which means only one thing.


    At some point, while I was fast asleep, Arthur took me to his bedst night.


    "Hey!" I sit up, smacking his arm with my hand. "What the hell, Arthur?!"


    He stirs, his eyes shooting open instantly. He looks confused for a moment, and then extremely shameful. "I didn''t-It wasn''t-"


    "Don''t be a creep," I hiss, scrambling out of bed onto shaky legs. "Did you think you could get with me again if you brought me to your bed without my consent? Did you carry me here in my sleep, or what?"


    Arthur sits up, dragging a hand through his dark hair. "I didn''t mean to," he says, his voice rough and gravelly with sleep.


    I nt my fists on my hips. "Is that so? Were you just sleepwalking, then?"


    He looks up at me, and something in his face hardens. "No. I was drunk. Trust me, Iris, if I had been sober, I never would have brought you to my bed."


    For some reason, hearing him say that out loud sends an unexpected pang through my chest. I wonder for a brief moment if all of the dancing, theughter, the tenderness would have happened at all had he not been inebriated, and although I don''t want to feel this way, it makes me sad.


    But I choose not to dwell on it, and pull my shoulders back


    "Don''t do it again," I say, turning on my heel and leaving the room.


    "Trust me," Arthur calls after me, "I won''t."


    Another ache reverberates through my heart at the sound of those words, but I ignore it, refusing to let it get to


    1. me.


    That morning, I call the doctor toe and check on Miles Thankfully, Miles doesn''t have an infection- just a slight cold from the other night, which should clear up in a couple of days with the right prescription.


    Miles already seems to be feeling better just from a good night''s sleep, and after breakfast, I set him up in the living room with his kitten, some cartoons, and a cozy nket.


    As I arrange for Cliff toe and watch Miles for an hour so I can run out and pick up his prescription, I think back to Arthur''s initial offer to hire a nanny and wonder if I should take him up on it. Right now, it''s appealing, and I hate asking Cliff to constantly watch Miles when I can''t.


    I don''t intend to live here in this apartment for too long, but if I''m going to stay in Ordan, I''ll need a new babysitter anyway since our old one is still in Bo''Arrocan. I have a lot on my te and can''t stay with Miles all day every day, and he doesn''t start kindergarten until the fall. I''d take him to daycare if I weren''t worried about how he might handle it.


    Once Cliff is able toe upstairs for a bit, I hurry out to pick up Miles'' prescription. Afterwards, I pass by Abbott Gallery, and decide to run inside. I''m already wearing my ''Flora'' sses and wearing my hair in my signature, messy bun my constant uniform whenever I go outtely, since apparently I need to constantly be in disguise around here so I don''t hesitate before going inside and approaching the receptionist with a smile.


    "Hello,¡± I say, walking up to the desk. "I was interested in applying for your residency, and was wondering what sort of information you have."


    The receptionist beams and hands me a form to fill out to get the process started.


    I turn, heading over to a nearby bench, and am surprised-and also chagrined-to


    see Be, the snooty artist from the other day, filling out a form there herself.


    She nces up as I approach, her nose wrinkling slightly when she sees meing. "Oh. It''s you."


    "It''s me," I echo, curling my lip in disdain. I hold up my form. "Surprisingly, they''re allowing humans to apply for the residency."


    Be rolls her eyes and signs her name at the bottom of her form with a flourish, then stands and struts off. I watch her go before I take a seat and get to work filling out the necessary information.


    After I hand in my form, I get curious and look up Be on social media on my way out. I know her work well, but haven''t looked at her newest pieces. And of course, within moments of looking at her page filled with carefully- curated pictures- mostly of herself in tight clothes, posing beautifully besiderge canvases to appeal to both men and the artmunity-I feel my heart sink.


    She might be an arrogant, racist jackass, but her art is good. Like... really good.


    I huff as I close out the app, sliding my phone back into my purse. Knowing that she applied to the residency makes me nervous; I can''t hold a candle to her art, and she''s twice, no, three times as famous as I am here in Ordan.


    I guess I''ll need to figure something else out in the meantime. At least I have one paintingpleted for Alice. Maybe my next one should include a woman busting out of a tight dress, her mouthicallyrge and twisted in a sneer as she flies on a witch''s broom over a tiny human.


    But no. That would be too mean, and that''s not my style. Although the thought almost makes meugh out loud, I have to admit.


    I''m lost in thought, my head down, when I suddenly bump into someone on the sunny sidewalk. Gasping, I step back.


    "I''m so sorry, I didn''t mean to


    I look up, and my voice cuts off. Standing in front of me, l in cat-eye


    sunsses and a silk headscarf, is none other than Selina.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 99

    Tris


    I almost expect Selina to shove me into oing traffic or something else that''s equally insane, but to my surprise, she smiles. Perhaps a little too widely, but it''s a smile nheless.


    "Flora! Just the person I wanted to see."


    Before I can protest, Selina wraps her arm around my shoulders, whisking me away. "I''ve been hoping to have a chat with you," she says, guiding me toward a nearby park bench as if we''re old friends meeting up to enjoy the afternoon sunshine. "I hope you have a moment."


    I furrow my brow. "Actually-"I start to tell her that I need to get home to Miles, but she cuts me off, clearly not caring that I have other ces to be.


    "It''s important," she says, turning to me. It''s then that I see her eyes glimmer with that usual predatory gleam. Her smile is still firmly in ce, but her voice is like a snake''s hiss as she says in a slightly lower voice, "We need to talk. Now."


    $


    I hesitate, but finally relent, folding my arms. I don''t bother sitting on the bench. "Okay. What do you want?"


    Selina flips a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder and adjusts her silk scarf.


    "I heard you''re applying for that artist''s residency at Abbott," she says, nodding her head toward the gallery right across the street.


    "How do you know that?" I ask, frowning. "I only just filled out my preliminary forms."


    Selina shrugs, her grin widening. "It''s all about who you know here in Ordan, isn''t it?"


    I can''t say she''s wrong, so I remain silent. Selina goes on, "Anyway, I''d like to offer you my help. I actually happen to know the owner of Abbott Gallery. I could put in a good word for you, if you''d like."


    Without meaning to, my arms drop to my side. I quickly recall Be''s social media ount, and how I don''t stand a fucking chance against her when ites to the residency. But I''m also not an idiot. Taking help from Selina is akin to epting a deal with a devil.


    "No thanks," I say, abruptly turning on my heel to leave.


    "Wait!" Selina jumps to her feet, getting in my way. Her smile is still fake as ever as she says, "I can make Arthur leave you alone, too."


    My frown deepens. "What?"


    "I know he''s trying to get you back, and I can make him stop," she says. "In addition to helping you get into the residency-a level of independence that I know you crave right now-of course. All I ask is that you do your part and stop leading him on."


    "Leading him on?" I scoff. "I haven''t done any such thing. Furthermore, you have no idea what I want. Or who I want, for that matter."


    Selina''s eyes sh. "You''re distracting him," she says, flicking an invisible piece of lint off her shirt.


    "I''m not," Iugh. "And even if I were, what do you care? I know about your arrangement. You don''t care about him, do you?".


    Selina doesn''t answer right away, but something beneath the depths of those stormy gray eyes gives me pause. I blink, leaning back slightly. "Wait," I say slowly, furrowing my brow, "are you..."


    Before I can finish, she snaps her grin back into ce. "I just worry that your presence in his life, whether you mean for it to happen or not, is detrimental to our image," she says, waving her hand. "I mean, you''ve been back in Ordan for how long now? A month? Two? And already, the President and I have had to put out multiple fires thanks to a few public... stunts you''ve pulled."


    "What sort of stunts are you referring to?"


    She lifts her shoulders, then drops them again. "Oh, losing your child, for starters. Going out in public without a proper disguise on, so people can recognize you. Kissing him in an alley...¡±


    My heart stops. I didn''t think anyone knew about that, not even Selina.


    Selina''s grin turns feline. "Oh, yes, I know all about that," she says. "It cost a pretty penny to pay off the paparazzi that snapped that picture. Not that I me you, of course. I just me your...ck of media training,"

 Chapter 100

    "Lack of media training?" I ask.


    She nods. "Yes, well, it''s not like you were born in a high-profile household like me, so it''s not really your fault that you didn''t receive the proper training in how to act in public."


    "Are you calling me a rube?"


    "No, no!" Selinaughs flippantly, waving her hand again. Not at all. I just believe that it''s only natural that you''ll have more slip-ups in the future, which is why it''s best if you and Arthur part ways."


    I frown, not sure what to make of all that. I know everything Selina says and does is steeped in passive aggression, and she just spent thest five minutes basically insulting me from head to toe.


    "But," she goes on, either oblivious to my feelings or choosing to ignore them, "I also understand that Arthur is quite smitten with you-you are his mate, after all- and, as an Alpha, he won''t leave you alone. I can help, though, if you just say the word. You won''t need to worry anymore; my brother and I can make that pesky little contract go away, and I''ll shift his attention elsewhere, and you can either remain in Ordan as a sessful artist or you can leave. It''s up to you."


    Finally, with a flourish, she hands me her business card. I look down at it for a moment, my mind whirling


    I won''t lie-Selina''s offer is tempting. Making the contract go away, getting that residency... Even making Arthur give up on me, if that''s even possible, or if I even want that.


    But I also know she''s a snake, and can''t be trusted with watching someone''s purse, let alone all of that.


    Furthermore, I''m curious to know why she was in Arthur''s room that day before the exhibition. Given the way she looked at me just now, I wonder if she really does have feelings for Arthur after all, and is just pretending she doesn''t in the hopes that he''ll eventually fall for her on his own. And maybe she feels threatened now that I''m in his life again.


    But I don''t mention that. Mostly because if I let her know that I saw her that day, she''ll also wonder why I was in his room, and she''ll certainly find a way to use that against me.


    Instead, I just shake my head and say, "Thanks for the offer, Selina, but I''m good." With that, I hand her business card back and leave.


    The entire way home, I keep thinking about that strange interaction. Did Selina fall for Arthur, and she''s panicking because she actually thinks we''re going to get back together?


    And just as importantly, if she was serious about making Arthur get over me... would I even take it? Would I even want that, despite everything?


    I don''t know, and that''s the scary part.


    As I''m approaching the apartment building, I find Augustine wandering outside again, looking a little confused. She''s not in the street this time, thankfully, but rather stomping around in the garden, crushing the flowers.


    "Augustine," I call out, stopping a few feet away. "What are you doing?"


    The old woman jerks her head up, her eyes lighting up when she sees me. "Oh! Iris!" she says, hurrying over to me. "I was just looking for you."


    I feel myself soften, and lead her inside, where I bring her upstairs to have some tea in the apartment. I find Cliff in the living room with Miles, ying with toy cars as the TV ys in the background. The sight makes me smile.


    But instead of cartoons ying on the TV, the news is on.


    And there, ring at me from the screen, is a photograph of me and Selina in the park. I''m frowning, my face twisted in a hateful sneer, while Selina smiles broadly.


    "Today, the up anding artist ''Flora'' was spotted chatting with our beautiful Luna-to-be, Selina," the news anchor says. "But the chat seemed anything but friendly. Why is this artist yelling at our lovely Luna? How could anyone hate Selina?"


    Today''s Bonus Offer

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    Iris


    For a long moment, I just stare at the television,pletely dumbfounded.


    "It appears that this new artist, who calls herself ''Flora'', has a bone to pick with our lovely Luna-to-be," the news anchor says, shaking her head with a sigh. "I mean, what could she possibly dislike about Selina?"


    The other anchor scoffs. "I have no words. Selina is a kind, charitable woman who any citizen of Ordan should be proud of..."


    "Well," the other anchor says, leaning in, "from what I hear, Flora isn''t even from Ordan! She''s from Bo''Arrocan, and a human as well."


    "That exins-"


    I don''t realize that my feet have moved of their own ord until the television suddenly goes ck. My fingers tremble around the remote as I set it down. Cliff and Miles nce up at me from the sofa.


    "What''s wrong, Mommy?" Miles asks, cocking his head.


    I force a smile and ruffle his dark hair. "Nothing, sweetheart. I think you''ve just had enough TV time for today."


    Miles doesn''t look disturbed by that, and returns to what he was doing with Cliff. Sighing, I make my way back to the kitchen, where Augustine is seated at the counter ind. I move past her and turn on the electric kettle, avoiding her gaze as the water boils.


    "I can''t stand that woman," her soft voice suddenly says.


    My head snaps up, and I turn to look at her. "Who?"


    "You know who," Selina replies, nodding her head toward the dark television.


    I feel my stomach twist ufortably at that. It wouldn''t be much of a surprise if Selina intentionally framed that conversation today to make me look bad. I''m pretty sure she does have feelings for Arthur after all, and she wants to push me out of Ordan by ruining my tentative reputation here.


    "Well, everyone else in Ordan seems to love her," I say bitterly, taking the electric kettle off the burner and pouring the hot water into two cups. I add a tea bag to each and set one of the mugs in front of Augustine, then take a seat at the counter across from her.


    The elderly woman eyes me as she stirs her tea. "Not me," she admits. "Not Cliff."


    I frown, recalling the first day I tried to speak to Augustine again. The very thought makes a ck pit form in my low belly. "When you thought I was Selina, you said you ''wouldn''t fall for my tricks again''," I muse. "Did she do something to you?"


    Augustine''s eyes darken. "She doesn''t like the fact that Arthur is still living here, in the home that you two once shared." She waves her hand, gesturing to the apartment around us. "And since he won''t capitte to her demands to leave, she has done nothing but harass dear Cliff and I."


    "What has she done?"


    She scoffs. "What has she not done?" She takes a sip of her tea. "Once, she left a dead rat on my doorstep with note attached to it, iming it was from Arthur. I think she thought I would believe it and kick Arthur out."


    I can''t help but shudder. Arthur is a lot of things, but he''s not nearly that cruel. "He''d never do something like that," I murmur.


    "I know. When I told Arthur what she''d done, he apologized profusely and gave me an enormous, expensive gift basket. I''m not sure why he stayed with her after that, though."


    Of course, I know why he stayed with her, and the thought makes my mouth taste bitter. Letting our old friend be harassed by Selina, all for a bit of extra power that her family provides... It makes me sick.


    Suddenly, Augustine says, "You should be careful, dear. She''s certainly not happy that you''ve returned to Ordan." She nods toward the television once more. "She''ll stop at nothing to make you leave again."


    My face flushes, and I look away, ncing over at where Cliff and Miles are


    reading a picture book in the living room. I have no intention of getting back


    together with Arthur-but thest thing I want is for Miles to be alienated from his


    father, or worse, harassed in public and on the news like me. ÕÐ

 Chapter 102

    I have to protect him. And I''ll do whatever is necessary to keep him safe.


    Suspiciously, Arthur doesn''te home all day or evening and I don''t hear from him once. By the time I''m putting Miles to bed and I still haven''t seen or heard from Arthur, I''m beginning to wonder if he''s with Selina.


    I know, of course, that I shouldn''t technically care if he''s with her. I shouldn''t care where he is at all, honestly.


    But I can''t help it. The thought of him with her, sinking her ws into his neck like the she-wolf she is, makes me ufortable.


    I try not to think about it, and instead get to work in my studio. I finish up the rainy diner painting and move onto the next: a television, the screen ring with static, sitting in the middle of a dark room.


    I''m halfway through sketching out the outline of the image when I receive an email on my phone. Opening it, my chest lurches with excitement.


    "Dear Flora,¡± the email reads. "It is with great pleasure that we inform you that your initial residency application to Abbott Gallery has been epted! However, this is just the preliminary application; please prepare a presentation on your body of work for the second round. Best of luck to you."


    The email fills me with hope for the first time all day, and I get right to work on my presentation. I spend hours sitting on the floor of my studio with myptop in front of me, ensuring that my presentation is absolutely perfect.


    It has to be, because I need this residency. Not only will the funds be massively helpful right now, but the temporary housing would be a perfect solution to many of my troubles. It will allow Miles and me to get out of Arthur''s home, and more importantly, away from Selina.


    I spend most of the night working, only trudging to bed in the guest room when it''s past three in the morning. I pass out the second my head hits the pillow.


    The following morning, I wake up to the sensation of tiny kitten paws batting at my toes through the nkets. I crack my eyes open to find Scout ying around my feet. Miles is gone, likely scrounging through the kitchen for


    breakfast.


    Yawning, I pull on my robe then scoop the little orange kitten up, scratching his ears as I make my way downstairs.


    "How does a saucer of milk sound, little guy?" I coo, rubbing him beneath the chin. The kitten purrs happily, making me smile. I hope the artist residency allows cats in the apartment.


    As I round the corner to the kitchen, something catches my eye in the living room. I walk over to see Arthurying on the couch, and my heart stops in my chest. He''s not alone.


    Miles is sleeping on his chest, sucking his thumb. Arthur''s arms are wrapped securely around him, his face softened in sleep, that lone curl falling across his forehead. He''s still wearing his white button-down, the top button undone, and his work trousers as if he came home from the office and fell asleep right away.


    For a moment, I just stare at the scene, my heart breaking in a thousand ces.


    They look so... peaceful. At ease. As if they''ve never slept properly until this moment.


    And suddenly, the thought of leaving almost makes me sick If only they could have countless mornings like this, snuggling together on the sofa before Miles is too old to enjoy such things.


    If only...


    Just then, the doorbell rings, startling Scout out of my arms. He leaps to the floor with grace, scampering beneath the couch. Arthur''s eyes snap open and lock on me right away, making my face heat.


    "I was just "I begin, realizing I''ve been caught staring.


    But Arthur is already getting up, carefully cing the stirring Miles on the sofa.


    "That''ll be the nanny," he says, brushing his hair back as he makes his way to the front door.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 103

    Iris


    Arthur swings open the front door to reveal an older woman with graying hair standing in the hallway.


    "Mrs. White," he says, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. "Please,e in."


    The woman shuffles into the foyer, clutching a small duffle bag to her chest. She stops in the center of the room and looks around with a discerning eye before her gazends on me. Something seems to harden her weathered features, and she presses her lips into a thin line.


    "Iris, this is Mrs. White, our new nanny," Arthur says, gesturing between us. "Mrs. White, this is my mate, Iris."


    The use of that word-mate-sends an unwanted thrill through me. I can''t help but wish he''d chosen a different word, because although we are technically still mates, we''re not... together. And yet, at the same time, hearing him say it sets my pulse racing in ways I don''t want to admit.


    Especially when he looks as handsome as he does right now, the top button of his shirt undone, hair ever so slightly mussed, and his sharp jaw dotted with overnight stubble.


    The woman looks me up and down, causing me to draw my robe a little tighter around myself.


    "Pleasure," she says, then looks at Arthur, "Where is the child?"


    "He''s sleeping," Arthur replies. He begins moving toward the kitchen. "Tea? Coffee? Anything to eat?"


    Mrs. White narrows her eyes, but follows Arthur into the kitchen. I hesitate, debating running upstairs to get changed, but ultimately follow them.


    "Sleeping thiste?" she asks as she settles onto a stool at the counter. "A boy his age should be up already, preparing for the day."


    I nce at the clock on the microwave and frown. It''s not even seven o''clock, and it''s a Saturday.


    Arthur pours three cups of coffee and sets on in front of each of us. "Mrs. White is the reason why I was out all day yesterday. The interview process was extensive." His eyes sparkle with humor. "On both ends, might I add."


    "I don''t agree to work for any family until I have the proper understanding of their household," she says. "Even if it''s the Alpha President."


    I can''t help but bristle slightly at that. It exins where he was yesterday, but Arthur should have told me he was going to hire a nanny.


    Just then, Mileses into the room, rubbing his sleepy eyes. ¡°Mommy, can we have waffles for-¡± He stops short when he sees the strange woman sitting in our kitchen. She turns to him, her lips tugging downward when she sees his rumpled dinosaur pajamas and messy hair.


    Miles'' face pales, and then he abruptly turns on his heel and runs off. The hallway echoes with the sound of his footsteps pounding up the stairs, followed by the sound of the guest room door mming shut.


    I flinch. Arthur blinks, clearly confused, and I realize this is the first time he''s ever seen Miles have a meltdown


    over a new person.


    "Why, I never," Mrs. White huffs, clutching her pearl ne.


    Arthur looks a little dazed. "He''s not normally like that," he says. "Usually, he''s quite adventurous." He nces at me, a silent question behind his green eyes. Chapter 103


    My stomach sinks slightly. I still haven''t had the opportunity to exin the reason behind Miles'' mannerisms, and frankly, I''ve been hesitant to do it. Arthur is an Alpha; there''s no doubt in my mind that he''ll take issue with the fact that his son is on the spectrum.


    Thankfully, Arthur quickly changes the subject, getting Mrs. White settled and showing her around the apartment.


    He sets her up in the secondary spare bedroom on the second floor, a room that neither of us has ever used. I''ve been preferring to sleep with Miles since we got here, and even when I lived here with Arthur five years ago, the room never got used for anything other than storage. It seems Arthur has cleaned out the boxes and other things at some point without my knowledge, but hasn''t done a deep clean.


    I can''t help but notice the nanny''s mild look of distaste at the thinyer of dust on the top of the dresser and windowsill. She turns to Arthur as she sets her bag down on the twin-sized bed. "Don''t you have a housekeeper?" she asks, then nces at me as if it''s my job to ensure the entire ce is spotless.


    Arthur smiles slightly. "Not yet," he admits.


    The nanny looks taken aback, probably because she expects the Alpha President


    to have a full staff or at least a housewife. But she doesn''t mention it again, and we leave her to get settled.


    Once Arthur and I are alone again, I turn to him. "Why didn''t you warn me?" I whisper. "Or Miles?"


    "I told you I wanted to hire a nanny," he says simply.


    "Yes, but I told you that Miles and I are getting our own ce soon. Besides, isn''t


    it a bit risky to hire someone to be here, what with the whole... situation between you and Selina?"

 Chapter 104

    Arthur''s eyes sh slightly at the mention of Selina, but his voice is calm as he replies, "Mrs. White is aware of the situation, and has promised the utmost discretion. Furthermore, I can pay her even more to split her time between our homes should you choose to move. But if it were up to me, you and Miles would live here."


    I open my mouth to say something, but no wordse out. Briefly, the image of Arthur and Miles cuddling on the sofa shes through my mind, and it makes my heart soften.


    "Well, I''ll pay for my half if she splits her time between our homes,¡± I finally say.


    Arthur''s jaw ticks. I can tell he doesn''t like the idea of me spending a dime, but to my surprise, he doesn''t argue.


    The rest of the day goes rtively smoothly. Miles needs some coercing toe out of his room, but eventually, hees out and allows us to introduce him to the new nanny. Her strict demeanor feels out of ce against Miles'' personality, but I want to give her a chance. Perhaps they''ll both warm up to one another in time.


    At dinner, however, my hopes are quickly squashed. Mrs. White insists on cooking, and emerges from the kitchen carrying tes of nd chicken breast, white rice, and steamed vegetables.


    No seasoning, no sauce, and certainly nothing that Miles likes.


    I can tell he''s not going to eat a bite the moment she sets his te down in front of him and his face twists up with difort.


    "Eat up, young man," Mrs. White says, taking her seat across from him.


    Miles is silent, but folds his arms and looks away. The nanny nces at me, and I sigh, offering her a small smile. "He doesn''t like spinach," I say gently, hoping not to offend her. "You know how kids are-"


    "I''ve never had a child refuse to eat," she says, cutting into her chicken. "Let him get hungry enough, and he''ll eat."


    However, throughout the meal, Miles remains silent and as still as a statue, simply staring off into space. He hardly even moves a muscle, and it makes my heart twinge painfully every time I look at him.


    I know this behavior well. When he''s really stubborn, he goespletely silent and unmoving. The first time, it happened, it was unnerving and frustrating, and I can tell that it''s frustrating Mrs. White now if the rapid scraping of her cutlery against her te is any indication.


    Curious, I nce at Arthur, wondering what his reaction will be. To my surprise, there''s a small smile on his face.


    "Why aren''t you eating, buddy?" he asks.


    No answer.


    "Eat your food," Mrs. White practically barks, making me bristle and Miles flinch.


    Arthur holds up his hand, effectively silencing her in that Alpha way of his. I tense slightly as he gets up from his chair and walks away. Is he angry? Frustrated? Disappointed?


    But a momentter, he returns from the kitchen with a bottle of peanut sauce. Mrs. White''s face begins to tremble with rage as he dollops some of it onto Miles'' te, then reaches over him and begins to cut up his chicken. He then mixes the chicken into the rice, scoops some up, and dips it into the peanut sauce before trying it himself.


    "Mm," Arthur says, smiling around the bite. "Delicious."


    Miles looks up at him. I can see his mouth water slightly now that the food actually looks somewhat appetizing. To my surprise, when Arthur scoops up another small spoonful and holds it out to him, Miles opens his mouth


    and tentatively tries it.


    His eyes light up as he chews and swallows. Then, taking the spoon, he begins digging into his food with vigor, enjoying the peanut sauce until it''s all gone.


    I''m pleasantly surprised. Arthur handled both the strict nanny and Miles expertly, exceeding all of my expectations.


    Later, after I''ve put Miles to bed, I return to my studio to continue working on my next piece. But I''m not alone for long before Arthur enters the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.


    "What was that earlier?" he asks.


    I feel sick. I know exactly what he''s referring to.


    For a moment, I hesitate, unsure whether to tell him or not. I still fear that he might look down on Miles if he knows the truth, and yet... Arthur does deserve to know. He''s Miles'' father, and if I''m going to coparent with him, then it''s only fair.


    Finally, taking a deep breath, I tell him. "Miles is on the spectrum."


    $


    Arthur stiffens. I do, too, bracing myself for the worst. But then his brow furrows,


    and he just looks... confused. " He shouldn''t be like that," he says simply.


    He leaves without another word, and I can feel my heart crack in a brand new ce.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 105

    Iris


    The next morning, I''m holed up in my studio again, finishing up the static television painting Miles is ying on the floor by my feet-he''s barely left my side all morning, too shy of the new nanny to be alone with her.


    Not that I can me him, nor do I mind. It''s nice to hear him talking to himself and making airne sounds as he ys with his toys.


    I''m just finishing up the final brushstrokes, inky ck to represent the dark room surrounding the television, when my phone buzzes, and I nce at the screen to see Alice''s name staring up at me. Curious to see what she needs, I answer.


    "Hello?"


    "Iris," she says, and I can hear her usual smile through the phone. "I have a teensy-weensy favor to ask of you..."


    I set aside my brush, pinching my phone between my shoulder and ear as I wipe my hands on a nearby rag What''s up?"


    66


    "So, the Ordan Culture Society has this annual charity g, and I just got an invite. I''m allowed to bring a plus- one, but I don''t have a date, and honestly, I''d rather go with you anyway. What do you say?"


    "When is it?"


    "Tonight."


    For a moment, I hesitate, toying with the idea of going. It''s awfullyst-minute, and if Arthur isn''t going to be home tonight, I''m not sure if I feelfortable leaving Miles with the new nanny just yet.


    Alice, sensing my hesitation, adds, "There are going to be a lot of high-profile Ordan artists and gallery owners there. It''s really good forworking."


    That changes things. Making connections in the art world is crucial, even more so now when I''m trying to get better footing in my career. I nce down at Miles and consider how important it will be for us to have our own ce again. For all I know, I might meet the right people who can put a good word in for me at Abbott Gallery, which would be a huge boon for us.


    Still, I have a lot of work to do on my presentation, and I don''t want to leave Miles alone after his harrowing day yesterday. So, despite the urge to say yes, I tell Alice I''ll consider it and let her know as soon as I can./


    "Alright," she sighs, sounding a little disappointed. "I guess I can go alone, but if you change your mind, please let me know!"


    "I will," I say, feeling a little bad. "I promise."


    After that, we hang up and I turn back to my canvas, my eyes scanning the painting onest time. It needs to dry before I put the coat of finish on top.


    Just as I''m about to ask Miles if he wants something to eat, I hear the front door open and close downstairs. I crack the studio door open and peek out into the hallway, expecting to see Arthur or even Mrs. White.


    But instead, I''m both surprised and disappointed to see Selina ascending the stairs.


    She stops at the top of the stairway, her eyes locking onto mine with a predator''s efficiency.


    "Oh," she says, her nose wrinkling with something I can only describe as disgust. "You''re here."


    Just seeing her after that awful news report the other day makes my blood boil. I close the studio door behind me, not wanting Miles to be exposed to her cruelty.


    ¡°Hi, Selina,¡± I say, folding my arms. "Arthur isn''t here right now, if you''re looking for him."


    Selina rolls her eyes and struts past me, heading straight for Arthur''s room. "I know he''s not here," she calls over her shoulder.


    Her tone makes me bristle. In private, it seems her sweet demeanor from the other day haspletely dissipated, her usual sour attitude having returned now that cameras aren''t on us. I already had a pretty good idea before, but now I''m even more certain that she intentionally put on a show the other day, knowing fully well that we were being recorded and that it would make me look ba

 Chapter 106

    Sighing, I turn toward the studio again, not really in the mood to deal with her antics. But as she opens the door to Arthur''s room and steps inside, curiosity takes hold of me, and I can''t help but follow her. I pause in the doorway, finding her rifling through his closet.


    "What are you doing?" I ask, feeling strangely protective over Arthur''s things. This isn''t the first time I''ve found her in his room unannounced, and frankly, I don''t trust her one bit.


    She nces at me from the closet, then huffs. "What does it look like?"


    "It looks like you''re going through things that don''t belong to you," I reply quickly.


    Selina scoffs, as if I''ve just said something ridiculous. "He''s my fiancee," she corrects me, as if that makes any difference. As if we''re not both fully aware of their arrangement and the fact that she has no im over Arthur or any of his belongings. "Besides, I''m looking for a tuxedo."


    I blink. "A tuxedo?"


    "Yes, a tuxedo," she sighs. She pulls a garment bag out and struts over to the bed, where sheys it down and unzips it. Inside is a sleek ck tux, and she runs her hands over the elegant fabric, inspecting it for ws. "You know, the sort of thing people wear to nice events? Arthur and I are going out tonight."


    "What sort of event are you going to?" I ask, curious.


    She nces up at me. "The type of event you''re not invited to," she says, zipping the bag back up with a flick of her wrist. "It''s very high-profile. Charity." Her eyes flick over me, lingering on my paint-stained overalls and the yellow cardigan with the hole in it, and then something malicious curls her red lips. "The sort of thing you can''t afford. But even if you could, it''s couples-only, so you can''t go anyway." My eyes narrow. It doesn''t take a genius to figure out that she''s most likely referring to the very same event Alice invited me to tonight, which means she''s outright lying. ''Couples'' aren''t a necessity. She just doesn''t want me to


    1. go.


    With that, Selina picks up the garment bag, hooking the hanger in the crook of her finger, and saunters past me. I watch her go, my mind racing the entire time.


    She''s going to that event tonight with Arthur.


    I know I shouldn''t care. They''re just going because that''s what''s expected of them as the Alpha President and future Luna of Ordan.


    But... after realizing the other day that she really might have actual feelings for Arthur, I can''t help it. The thought of her going out with him fills me with a strange sensation of difort, purely driven by the bond that draws me to Arthur.


    He''s my mate. What are her intentions with him, really?


    Just then, my eyes move to the closet once more, catching on a shimmering length of dark fabric at the back. Curiosity piqued, I step into the closet and pull it out, revealing a glittery ck gown that I once reserved for high-ss events and date nights years ago. It trails all the way to the floor, its slender straps adorned with tiny crystals and its neckline plunging.


    I move to the mirror and hold it up in front of me, noticing the way it seems like it would fit perfectly even now. It would look utterly stunning, just as stunning as the day I bought it. No, more than perfect, more than stunning.


    I''d look... devastating.


    My fingers brush across the soft fabric as I bite my lower lip, and in that moment, I make a decision.


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    2


    ves


    ww

 Chapter 107

    Chapter 107 Chapter 107


    Arthur


    I sit in my office, my brow furrowed, running my fingers across the stubble lining my jaw over and over again. I should have shaved this morning, but my mind was admittedly... elsewhere.


    "He''s on the spectrum," Iris saidst night.


    That information left me confused, to say the least. Of course, I have no issue with people who have any sort of learning disability or otherwise. It''s just... surprising to hear that my own son has one.


    I''m an Alpha-and Ie from a long line of powerful Alphas. It''s highly


    umon for the children of Alpha wolves toe out with autism, or any other kind of disability, for that matter.


    It just doesn''t make sense. I checked once already, and found that Miles is indeed


    a wolf, not a human. While his DNA does, of course, contain human DNA-Iris is his mother, after all-he is a fully-fledged Alpha wolf and


    should have his own wolf emerge by the time he hits puberty.


    Therefore, something like this should be near-in possible.


    It''s just a fact of life that fully-fledged Alpha wolves are highly unlikely to have any form of disability. It''s purely biological, a derivative of an ancient and primal need for the Alpha of a pack to be in peak condition at all times. It does happen on asion, but it''s highly rare and often stigmatized by the people around them, even in the more progressive society of today.


    My eye flits to myputer desktop then, where I''ve recently changed the wallpaper to a photograph of Miles that I took the other day, smiling in the sunshine as he yed on the monkey bars at the yground.


    He looks like a healthy, active young wolf, but... Was the DNA test mistaken? Is he a human after all?


    I would still love him, of course, even if he were a human with no wolf of his own. Hell, I love him to pieces even if he''s got a disability. The kid could have no arms, no legs, no eyeballs, and a pumpkin for a head and I''d still think he''s the cutest and most wonderful boy in the entire universe.


    But now I''m just... curious.


    Frowning, I lean forward and type in the web address for the DNA testing center''s site on myputer. I''ve already checked a dozen times since I dropped off the sample this morning, but surely the results wille back


    soon.


    Sure enough, as I log into my ount, there''s a brand new notification that came in less than a minute ago. My breath hitches slightly as I quickly click the link and open the results.


    "DNA Sample Results: 100% Werewolf," the notification reads. Just as I expected.


    "Figured," I mutter, closing out of the tab and leaning back in my chair. It''s the exact same as it was when I took that first sample at the amusement park weeks ago. Miles is a fully-fledged wolf, and thus my true Alpha heir.


    I guess he''s just a little different from other Alphas, that''s all.


    But that''s no matter. After considering for a few moments, open the inte again and begin browsing for private schools in Ordan. I already know of several, but I want to ensure that he gets the best education with plenty of amodations for his disability.


    After a few minutes of searching, I find a few viable options and quickly Mindlink my Beta, ordering him to set up interviews. He quickly responds to let me know he''s on it.


    I can''t help but smile slightly. Iris will surely be pleased when I tell her that our son is going to be enrolled in one


    of the best schools in Ordan, ensuring the most optimal education for kids like him.


    After all, if there is one thing Iris and I can agree on these days, it''s that Miles deserves the best. The very best.


    Hell, maybe she''ll even soften a bit toward me once she finds out, and she''ll be less likely to move into her own ce.


    I''m just shutting down myputer, gathering myself for meeting with an Ordan businessperson, when the door to my office swings open. My wolf grumbles with annoyance as Selina saunters in, carrying a garment bag in her freshly- manicured hand.


    "Arthur, darling," she says as the door shuts behind her. "Im d you''re here. We need to talk."


    I frown, ncing at the garment bag. "What''s that?"


    With a coy grin, Selina opens the bag to reveal one of my own tuxedos. I must look confused, because she sighs annoyedly and says, "Don''t tell me you''ve forgotten."


    I furrow my brow, wracking my brain. Then, it hits me, and I pass my hand over my tired face. "The Ordan Culture Society G," I mutter. Ipletely forgot, but the annual event is tonight.


    Selina nods and carefully drapes the garment bag over the back of a chair. She tugs the ps open, running her hands across the ck fabric of the tuxedo. I watch as she picks off an invisible piece of fuzz and flicks it onto the


    carpet.


    By the Moon Goddess''s white hair, this woman is just like her brother.


    "Do we have to go this year?" I ask, shuffling some papers on my desk. "I''ve got a busy day ahead, and I barely slept-"


    Selina whirls to face me, her eyes shing. "Of course we have to go, Arthur!" she hisses. "It''s a very high-profile event! All of the Ordan socialites will be there. If we don''t show up, what sort of image will that create?"


    I sigh, shutting my weary eyes for a moment. We go to this damn g every year, and it''s always the same thing. Three fucking hours of rubbing elbows with insufferable wealthy people, listening to pointless speeches, and let''s not forget the part where I always write a very sizable donation check for the society. Selina, noticing my frustration, huffs. When I crack my eyes open, her hands are on her hips and she''s ring at


    1. me.


    "Don''t you


    care about supporting arts and culture in Ordan?" she asks.


    "Of course I do," I reply, ncing at my watch on the underside of my wrist. That meeting is in twenty minutes, so I begin gathering my things and stand, pushing my chair in. "But I can just write them a check, you know. I don''t need to be there every single year."


    Truthfully, I''d much rather be at home with Miles and Iris.


    But Selina doesn''t budge. The woman never misses an opportunity to dress up in expensive gowns and hobnob with other wealthy weirdos for hours on end. Sometimes, I think it''s the only thing she ever looks forward to aside from being a general nuisance.


    "We''re going," she says tly, turning on her heel. "And that''s final."


    I open my mouth to protest, but quickly shut it again. To be fair, it is a goodworking opportunity, a chance to make friends with other higher-ups in our world. It''ll be good for my reputation as Alpha President. It always is. I just don''t like that that''s the case.


    Selina pauses with her hand on the doorknob and nces at me over her shoulder. Her red lips curl into a little


    smile as she sees the defeat on my face.


    "Pick me up at eight," she says, then swings the door open and struts out.


    +25 BON

 Chapter 108

    Iris


    Before I can think better of it, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Alice a quick text.


    "I''lle with you tonight. What time?"


    She responds within a minute: "The event starts at eight, but you shoulde to my ce beforehand! We can get ready together."


    I hesitate, then agree to do just that; honestly, the idea of getting ready together with a girlfriend excites me, harkening back to my high school days.


    Alice sends me her address, and I gather my gown, makeup, and essories in a bag to go. Miles finds me as I''m packing the bag, his little brow furrowed with confusion as he stands in the doorway.


    "Where are you going, Mommy?" he asks.


    I turn, crouching to his level, and offer him a tender smile that I hope will soften the blow of what I''m about to tell him. "I have to go out tonight, sweetie. You''re going to stay here with Mrs. White. Is that okay?"


    Miles'' face pales, and he quickly shakes his head. "No. I don''t want to. I don''t like her."


    Hearing him say that breaks my heart. For a moment I almost consider king on Alice, but I decide against it. Theworking opportunities at this event are too great to pass up, and besides, Miles will have to get used to being around the nanny eventually. We went through the same rough patch with his babysitter in Bo''Arrocan, and by the time we moved, he was practically attached to her at the hip.


    "Come here, buddy," I say gently, opening my arms to him.


    Miles pouts, refusing to move for a moment, but finally shuffles forward. I gather him into my arms, propping him on one of my knees so he has to look at me. "Hey. You and Mrs. White are gonna be friends someday. I just know it."


    He nches. "I don''t think so. She''s not nice."


    I can''t help but agree, but I don''t say that out loud. Instead, I brush a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, and say softly, "She''s just from a different generation. Sometimes older people are more strict, that''s all. But that just means they care a lot."


    Miles pushes his lower lip out. "I don''t think she cares. I think she''s just mean."


    Finally, I offer, ¡°How about this: Cliff wille and check on you at some point. You like Cliff, don''t you?"


    "Yes. Why can''t he be the one to babysit me? We always have fun."


    "Because Cliff has another job," I say. "His job is to watch the front door, so no one bad can get in. Mrs. White''s job is to stay here, with you."


    Miles huffs, ncing around. His eyes catch on the small pet bed in the corner of the guest bedroom, where the little orange kitten is currently curled up, sleeping soundly. "Scout gets to stay with me?" he asks.


    I can''t help but chuckle, and nod. "Yes, of course. Scout always stays with you." Finally, Miles nods firmly. "Okay. Scout will tell you if anything goes wrong."


    "I''m sure he will," Iugh, standing. I ruffle Miles'' hair and send him on his way to y, then finish packing my bag. Once I''m ready, I make my way downstairs, where Mrs. White is bustling around the kitchen. She nces up


    as I enter, her gaze flicking down to the bag in my hands.


    "Going somewhere?" she asks.


    I nod and set the bag on one of the stools. "Yes. I''m going to an event tonight. Can you stay here with Miles?"


    "Of course."


    "Thank you, Mrs. White. By the way, I usually give Miles a shack around three o''clock; he likes an apple with peanut butter. Oh, and if he wants to watch a movie, he''s been asking about the new superhero movie that just came out on streaming services. Since I won''t be here, maybe you could order a pizza and he could watch it while he-"

 Chapter 109

    "Children don''t eat on furniture," Mrs. White cuts me off, raising her hand to stop me. "And pizza is very unhealthy.''


    I blink. ¡°It''s not like it''s an everyday thing,¡± I say slowly. "And Miles is very neat when he eats. You can put a towel down if you''re concerned, but he won''t make a


    mess.


    The nanny ces one hand on her hip. "I''d rather he eats at the table."


    I sigh, not really having the energy to argue over something so mundane. "Alright." I dig into my purse, withdrawing a couple of twenties. "This is for the pizza and anything else you might want. Treat yourself."


    She eyes the money suspiciously and doesn''t take it. I decide to leave it on the counter anyway, just in case. On my way out, I give her onest smile, not that I expect to receive one in return.


    "Let me know if you have any trouble," I say. "You have my number. I''lle home right away if you need me to."


    "That won''t be necessary." The nanny shakes he head curtly. "Miles will be perfectly behaved tonight."


    Something about the way she says that-perfectly behaved-unsettles me ever so slightly, but I let it go. On my way out the lobby, I ask Cliff to check inter, and he agrees. I make a mental note to check the nanny cameras at least once during the night just to make sure everything is going smoothly, then head to Alice''s ce.


    Alice''s apartment is a quaint little brownstone not far from Marsiel Gallery. She lets me in with a ss of wine and a smile, and we sip and chat as we get ready. "Oh, Iris, that dress is fucking stunning," she says as I slip into the midnight ck gown. "It fits you like a glove." I take a deep breath, turning to the full-length mirror. It really does fit just the way it did when I bought it, the fabric hugging my curves and pooling slightly around my feet. The dress shimmers when I move, and once I throw my hair into a curly updo and add some shimmery eyeshadow and deep red lipstick toplete the look, I feel like a siren-especially with the slightly plunging neckline.


    Arthur will think- I begin thinking to myself, but quickly block out the thoughts. No. I''m not going tonight for Arthur.


    At least, that''s what I keep telling myself. But each time I do, it feels even more unconvincing than before. Of course, for good measure, I put on my usual sses and tweak my hair and makeup toplete my ''Flora'' disguise. Although, my heart does pound a little at the thought of potentially being recognized.


    "As if it''s not bad enough that people recognize me as Arthur''s human mate," I muse, adjusting my ne around my throat, "thatst news report on me and Selina likely has people talking about Flora."


    Alice sighs as she primps her hair in the mirror beside me. She''s wearing avender purple gown that looks stunning with herplexion. "Well, if it''s any constion, the event tonight is closed. No photographers allowed."


    My eyebrows shoot up. "Really?"


    "Mhm. A lot of high-profile socialites attend this g every year, and surprisingly, it''s only the celebrities who like to be photographed at events. Real rich people, as in the higher echelons of society, are actually quite low-key. They petitioned for cameras to be removed a few years ago, and they were."


    ¡°That''s..... reassuring," I say, feeling marginally better.


    Alice grins and turns to face me, showing off her curvy figure in her gown.


    "Well? How do I look?"


    I can''t help but smile. "Gorgeous," I say, linking my arm through hers. "Let''s hit the road."

 Chapter 110

    Chapter 110 Chapter 110


    Iris


    Alice and I pull up to the event, which is situated in one of the historic halls in downtown Ordan. Glittering chandeliers hang from the ceilings, their glow reflecting off the polished marble floors. Ordan socialites from all backgrounds mill around in expensive gowns and tuxedos, sipping champagne as they view the art on disy.


    We make our way to the bar first, where we each pick up a ss of white wine. As we stand there, sipping our drinks and trying to get a feel for the ce, my eyes catch a familiar face across the room.


    Arthur.


    Just seeing him, even from afar, makes my heart thrum with unexpected excitement. I have to give Selina credit- the tuxedo she picked out for him looks ravishing on his frame, the fabric perfectly hugging each contour of his muscr body.


    And what makes him even more handsome is the way he''s smiling. That Alpha President smile of his is dazzling even from afar.


    But of course, Selina is on his arm.


    She, too, looks utterly stunning in a long red gown. The ck fur stole around her slender shoulders stands stark against her creamy skin and blonde hair, the diamonds at her throat glittering beneath the flickering candlelight.


    I knock back the rest of my wine and order another.


    Alice shoots me a sidelong nce. "Are you gonna be okay?"


    Nodding, I offer her a thin smile. "Splendid. I''ll just keep my distance."


    "Fair enough," Alice snorts, then jerks her chin toward where Arthur and Selina are now standing on the opposite end of the room,pletely surrounded by a group of men and women. Arthur is saying something that''s making everyone around him throw their heads back inughter, but I can sense how fake it is even from here. They''re just trying to butter him up for whatever purposes they may have. "It''s not like you''ll get a chance to speak to him anyway."


    That''s afort, although suddenly, I feel a pang in my chest. I don''t want to admit to anyone, not even myself, that part of why I agreed toe was because I didn''t want Arthur going out alone with Selina-that a sm¨¢ll, vindictive part of me, driven by our mate bond, wanted to step out in a glittering gown of my own, standing on my own two feet, and show him what he''s missing.


    If we could only be together, for real, with no lies or hiding, he could be walking alongside me tonight. But he''s too scared to have a human wife, and that hurts.


    "Oh my Goddess!" Alice suddenly exims, taking my hand and leading me over to a handsome man in a tuxedo who''s standing nearby. "I didn''t think you would be here! Iris, this is my good friend, Hunter Maverick. Hunter, this is my other good friend, Flora."


    The name makes me blink in surprise. Hunter Maverick-a name that I''m pretty certain is a pseudonym, just like mine-is a famous artist here in Ordan.


    He smiles at me, extending his hand. "Flora," he says, his fingers warm around mine as I return the handshake, it''s a pleasure. I''ve seen your work. It''s absolutely wonderful."


    I can''t help but blush. As if it''s not bad enough that a famous artist is


    "Likewise," I reply. "It''s wonderful to meet you. I''m a big fan."


    I instantly cringe for calling myself a ''fan'', which makes me seem like some kind of


    a groupie. But if he notices, he certainly has the tact not toment on it, and waves his hand good-naturedly. "Oh, nonsense. My work belongs on cereal boxes, nothing more."


    Alice rolls her eyes and smacks his arm. "He''s always pulling the ''humble'' card," she says, ncing at me, "but 1 think he''s full of shit, and he knows it."


    Hunter''s eyes flicker mischievously, and then he shoots me a radiant smile. "Alice tells me that your recent body of work sold out in one night. I couldn''t make it to the art opening, so I''m intrigued. Care to tell me about the collection?"


    My face warms, but I happily exin myst collection to Hunter as the three of us stroll through the space. He listens intently, never interrupting except to ask a question or chime in with an exmation. At one point, Alice slips away to get another drink at the bar, leaving us alone.


    The music shifts then, and couples begin moving to the dance floor. Hunter turns to me. "Care to dance, so we can continue this conversation?" he asks, extending his hand.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 111

    Thesitate, ncing toward the bar. Alice, noticing the exchange from afar, lifts her ss and shoots me a wink. My cheeks flush as I ept, and we move to the dance floor


    Surprisingly, Hunter keeps a respectable distance as we begin to dance. His palm presses into mine, his fingers gently curling around my own as his other hand settles on my waist.


    "So," I say, "tell me about your work. I saw the recent piece about you in the Ordan Art Weekly magazine."


    Hunter nods. "I created myst collection after my wife and I split," he says, a sad look crossing his face for a moment. "It was initially meant to be a distraction from my pain, but... well, you know how art is. The way your own sadness has an uncanny way of wing its way into every piece."


    I can''t help but agree. ¡°I know the feeling all too well,¡± I say, looking away briefly..


    Just then, my gaze catches a familiar pair of green eyes across the room, and my breath lodges in my throat.


    Arthur.


    He''s staring straight at me, his jaw ticking, his eyes almost.. glowing. It''s a brief flicker of incandescent green, as if his wolf is just beneath the surface of his skin. Although he schools it quickly, his eyes remain locked on mine, long enough for even Hunter to notice.


    "Do you know the Alpha President personally?" he asks.


    I quickly shake my head and tear my gaze away. "No," I lie. "I only know Selina.¡±


    The artist nods slowly. "Right... I recall seeing a news report on you two. It seemed scathing, but the press always twists things."


    "Yes, they do," I say, recalling all too well the awful things Selina said with a smile on her face-a smile that made her appear perfectly sweet to the cameras, all the while she was twisting a knife in my belly.


    Hunter chuckles. "Well, either way, the way he was just looking at you... If I didn''t know any better, I''d say that was the look of a jealous Alpha who just saw his mate with another man. But I hear his mate is a human woman who left the country."


    My skin prickles. That hit too close to home forfort, and I need some air. Thankfully, the songes to an end, and I move away from Hunter. He pulls a business card out of his pocket.


    "I''m afraid I need to get going," he says. "But here, take my card. I''d love to chat some more, especially about that residency at the Abbott Gallery. I''m certain you can get in on your own merits, but I''d be happy to put in a good word for you if you need it."


    "Thank you," I say, gingerly taking the card. Frankly, I doubt I''ll call in that favor; I want to get this residency on my own, without any help from outside forces. But the offer is nice, and besides, it''s always a good idea to have the contact information of other artists.


    With a polite nod of his head, Hunter bids me goodnight and leaves. I swear I can still feel Arthur''s eyes on me, pressing in on me from all directions until I can hardly breathe. Needing some air, I slip away from the main area, searching for a bathroom. But there''s a line outside thedies'' room, so I choose the next best option: the coat closet.


    The room is blissfully dark and cool when I slip inside. I shut the door behind me with a soft click and lean against the fabric of the coats, inhaling deeply. Just a few moments to breathe is all I need.


    As I calm down, I slip out my phone, checking the app for the nanny cameras. Miles is sitting at the dinner table


    by himself with a te of food in front of him. All looks well, and I smile softly as my finger traces the image of


    him.


    Just then, the door opens. I gasp, putting my phone back in my purse. But it''s not a chagrined staff member who walks in like I expect. It''s a tall, broad figure, d in a perfectly-fitted tuxedo.


    The door shuts quickly, casting us in darkness once more. Warm hands wrap around my waist, tugging me close against a sturdy frame. My breath catches as I press my palms into that familiar chest, but I don''t push away. Not


    yet.


    "I hate seeing you with other men," Arthur''s voice growls, low and rough and full of want.


    And then, before I can answer, his lips crash into mine.

 Chapter 112

    Iris & Arthur


    Iris


    Arthur''s mouth is warm and soft against mine, but his kiss is insistent, hungry, needy. His lips move against mine with a hot, heavy fervor, as if he needs the taste of me to keep on living.


    I don''t think. I just move, pressing more firmly against his body. My head drops back, giving him better ess to the deep recesses of my mouth. He pushes me back against the coats, one hand slipping down to grip my thigh, pulling my leg upward so it hitches around his hip. I feel something warm strain against his trousers, and it sends a thrill through me that I can''t ignore.


    I want this. No, I need this. As our lips and limbs tangle in the dark closet, hands pushing fabric out of the way, legs stumbling back against the hard wall, I feelpletely and utterly driven by the mate bond.


    "Iris," he groans against my neck, his mouth moving across the column of my throat. My name in his voice sounds like a prayer to the Moon Goddess, deep and reverent and full of meaning.


    Without conscious thought, I slip the jewel-encrusted strap of my gown away from my shoulder, freeing thece of my bra beneath. Something low and strangled rumbles in Arthur''s chest, and his hand cups my breast, making my own whimper of pleasuree out.


    His lips move lower then, his fingers deftly slipping thece aside to expose my breast. Before I can reach, his mouthtches onto the soft flesh, tongue swirling around my nipple.


    I let out a choked gasp, mping one hand over my mouth to stifle my cry as my other handes up to tangle my fingers in his dark hair. He groans, deep and low, as I give his hair a gentle tug in just the way I know he likes it.


    As we move together, fumbling in the dark, it''s as if we''re falling easily into our old rhythms. It''s been five years since we''ve made love, and yet we still know every contour of one another''s bodies, every sensitive spot and favorite touch.


    Arthur knows that I like when he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of my thighs, when he grazes his tongue across my cor bone. I know just how to trail my fingers over the nape of his neck to make him shiver pleasantly, and how he particrly gets off to the sensation of my tongue flicking across his upper teeth as I lock our lips together.


    It''s easy, it''s familiar, and it''s everything I want.


    But then, as always, realityes crashing back.


    "Arthur, darling, where did you go?"


    Selina''s voice echoes through the wall, and my heart stops in my chest.


    Before we can pull away, the door swings open, bathing us in light.


    Gasping, I quickly cover myself again, slipping the strap of my gown back onto my shoulder. Arthur positions himself in front of me, shielding me from view, his arms still firmly wrapped around me.


    Selina freezes in the doorway, her mouth agape. "Selina," Arthur says, his voice calm, low. But there''s a warning in his tone, too, the type of warning only an Alpha can give don''t you dare expose us.


    She stands there for a long second, her eyes flicking between us, and my shame is almost too much to bear. My face turns beet red, heat flooding through me. A moment ago, I almost gave in to my need for Arthur, almost


    allowed the bond between us to draw me into the familiarforts of our lovemaking,


    But now, I''m swiftly reminded of just how forbidden it truly is.


    Yes, Selina only has a contract with Arthur, but it doesn''t matter. Selina is the one who gets to hold his arm in public, who gets to be his wife. Not me. And if it had been anyone else who had walked in that door, our tryst would be exposed for everyone to find out.


    For all I know, Selina, who clearly has feelings for Arthur after all, might expose us anyway.


    However, to my surprise, she doesn''t. Rather, a small smirk tugs at her red lips. Without a word, she simply shuts the closet door. I can hear her heels click as she walks away.


    Arthur turns to me right away, but I can''t meet his gaze-all I can do is stare at the floor,pletely and utterly ashamed.


    I may be his mate, bound to him in ways that no one else couldpare. But she


    is his fiancee. She is the one who gets to be loved by him in public, even if it''s fake. I''m just the human woman who fucks him in closets.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 113

    Arthur stares at me for a moment, his breath warm across my face in the cramped closet. Then, without a word, he turns and rushes after her, likely to do damage


    control.


    Once I''m alone again, a soft whimper escapes my throat before I can stop it. I lean my head back against the wall, staring up at the dark ceiling, and suck in a deep lungful of air. As I try to steady myself, a resolve settles over me.


    I need to get a grip on myself now, before I''m faced with another heartbreak. This is the consequence of living with him, of seeing him every day. I''ve grown nostalgic, tender. I need to harden my heart again, just as I have done a hundred times before, and focus on one thing and one thing only.


    My son.


    Taking another deep breath, I reach into my purse and pull out Hunter''s business card.


    I don''t want to take any offers, but maybe I should take his. I need that residency at Abbott Gallery. For Miles'' sake


    And mine.


    Arthur


    I hate that I have to leave Iris behind, but the potential damage Selina could cause if she decides to be vindictive about it is too great. I find Selina moving toward the dance floor, and to my surprise, she doesn''t pull away as I stride up to her and loop my arm through hers, leading her further into the crowd.


    She just nces up at me through hershes, a small smile ying on her lips, then positions herself to dance with me. I cup her hand in mine, my other settling on her waist.


    "Having some fun in the closet?" she purrs in my ear as we begin to sway.


    My chest tightens. That was more than ''some fun''; it was a release of five years of pressure, a necessary binding between myself and Iris. I couldn''t control myself anymore, not when I saw that man obviously flirting with her. She''s mine, no one else''s, and she looks fucking devastatingly beautiful tonight, and I needed her.


    But I don''t say that to Selina. Rather, I calm my expression and reply, ¡°I apologize. That wasn''t very tactful of me. I shouldn''t let my emotions take over like that in public."


    Selina scoffs and looks away. The smile on her face is serene, but her long, sharp nails dig into my shoulder as we move on the dance floor. "Well, she''s bing a public figure in Ordan rather quickly. More quickly than I was expecting."


    "Yes, she is," I admit. "Which means I''ll run the risk of seeing her in public like this more often. I''ll have toe up with a n to keep my wolf from acting out."


    "I know a way," Selina says, looking up at me once more. My stomach drops slightly before she even says the next words: "Unmark her. She cannot choose another mate, but you can. You''d both be free of your... urges toward one another."


    Her words leave me taken aback. She is right, to be fair; wolves can willingly mark one another, allowing them to choose a mate rather than relying on fate. Humans cannot do the same, so unless I were to mark someone else, Iris is essentially stuck being bound to me.


    If I were to mark or be marked by another wolf, then Iris would be free and so would I.


    But I don''t want that, of course. I doubt Iris really wants that, either.


    I stare at Selina, my eyes narrowing. "What are you suggesting?" I ask, even though I think I already know the


    answer.


    Selina''s eyes sh. "Let me mark you," she says, her nails digging harder into my shoulder. "We can be mates, in love in both public and private."


    "Selina-"


    "Think about it,¡± she cuts me off. "Wouldn''t it be easier? You won''t need to worry about that lowly human anymore-you''d have me." She stops moving, taking a step closer. Her head tilts back, exposing the almost predatory look in her eyes. "I could make you happy, Arthur. You could learn to love me."


    My eyes widen, mouth parting.


    But before I can speak, she kisses me.

 Chapter 114

    Iris


    When I finally work up the courage to emerge from the coat closet, I''m both surprised and relieved to find that the event is going on just the same as it was before. The walls aren''t burning down and no one looks at me as I make my way back to the main area, so I suppose that means that whatever form of damage control Arthur used on Selina actually worked.


    However, just as I''m walking over to the bar for a much-needed drink-preferably straight vodka¡ªI''m osted by Alice.


    "Don''t go over there," shemands, looping her arm through mine and guiding me away.


    I frown, trying to look over in that direction, but she yanks me away before I can. "Why not? What''s going on?" I ask.


    Alice gives me a sympathetic look. "They were kissing just now," she says, her voice low. She doesn''t need to say their names for me to know who she''s referring to.


    My stomach turns inside out.


    $


    "Oh," I mutter before I can control myself. I can''t seem to find anything else to say about it, even though my mind is racing. Arthur was kissing Selina? Who''kissed who first? How long did they kiss?


    I want to ask all of these questions and more, desperate for answers. Right now, all I can imagine is Selina finally confessing her feelings, Arthur returning them, and that''s the end of that. No more mate bond, no more sneaking around, no more secretly wanting each other.


    It would make things simpler if he chose to do that. Honestly, even if he chose to mate with Selina simply to ease the pain of our separation, I couldn''t me him. Wolves can choose new mates, whereas humans cannot, and frankly, I''m surprised he''s remained marked to me all these years when a woman like Selina clearly wants him.


    Alice turns to me. "Are you alright?" she asks, touching my arm.


    I nod, even though I feel like the floor is tilting beneath my feet. "Yes, I... I''m just really tired," I admit with a small, empty smile. "I think I''m going to call it a night."


    She looks at me, obviously not buying it, but then sighs. "Alright. Want me to drive you home?"


    I shake my head, already heading for the door. ¡°I''ll call a cab. Goodnight, Alice. I had fun."


    Once outside, I hail a cab, my limbs heavy and weak. I climb into the back seat and give the driver my address, then slump down as he pulls away from the curb.


    Tonight was my own damn fault, I keep telling myself. If I hadn''t allowed myself to soften so much toward Arthur, if I had only kept my head screwed on tight rather than letting tender moments like seeing him sleep with Miles on the couch get to me, then I wouldn''t be in this position.


    Once again, I harden my heart into a block of ice, willing the pain to go away. It''s best if I find another living situation for myself and Miles as soon as possible, I decide. It''ll be better for all of us. Even Selina, who''s clearly in love with Arthur and far better for him than I could ever be.


    That''s the part that hurts the most, though-knowing that she is a much more viablepanion for Arthur. She''s beautiful, an elegant and poised werewolf woman from a well-to-do family, perfectly suited to be the Luna


    of Ordan.


    I''m just... a human. Only fit for closet trysts, making out in alleyways, wearing disguises in public. A burden, not a


    blessing


    If Selina truly does love him, and he loves her back, then they should be together.


    I don''t want to stand in the way of that.


    Sighing, I pull my phone out of my purse and check the camera app again. My heart sinks as I see Miles still sitting at the dining table, the room now dark save for onemp, his dinner untouched in front of him.


    "Shit," I whisper, sitting up straight in my seat. He hasn''t moved or eaten, and the nanny has just... left him there. The moment the cab pulls up to the building, I shove a wad of cash in the driver''s hand and bolt out of the car, sprinting inside. Cliff is already off for the night, reced by the night guard, and I rush past, jamming my finger on the elevator button.


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    When I burst into the apartment, Miles is still sitting there, staring at his te of in vegetables and steamed tofu. The sight breaks my heart, and I whirl toward Mrs. White, who''s sitting in the armchair in the living room with her arms folded and a smug expression on her face.


    "He wouldn''t-" she begins, but I cut her off.


    "How care you let my son sit here all night, going hungry?" I bite out, trying not to yell just for Miles'' sake. "It''s been hours!"


    The nanny''s lips press i


    a t line. "I told him very clearly that if he ate his dinner, he could watch an educational film. He wouldn''t eat, so he didn''t get to leave the table."


    "This is abuse," I hiss, scooping Miles up into my arms. He whimpers softly, burying his face against my neck. Huffing, I hurry into the kitchen, where I gently ce him on a stool at the counter. "What are you hungry for, little wolf? Chicken nuggets?"


    Miles sniffles, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed from crying. "PB&J,¡± he mutters.


    Without hesitating, I quickly throw together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some apple slices on the side. The nanny res at me from the kitchen doorway the whole time, and by the time I ce the te in front of Miles, she looks like she''s going to be sick.


    "Peanut butter and jelly have a lot of sugar-


    >>


    "He''s five," I cut her off, gripping the edge of the counter. It''s worse if he doesn''t eat at all than if he eats something decadent."


    Mrs. White''s face reddens, her eyes flicking over my gown. Typical," she mutters, folding her arms. "You think you''re one of us, waltzing around in expensive clothes and going to our events?"


    My eyes widen. "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    "You don''t even know how to feed a healthy werewolf child let alone exist in our society," Mrs. White grits out." You and your... your people are going to ruin our next generation of Alpha kids. You''re stunting his growth!"


    I roll my eyes. "He''s growing just fine."


    The nanny nces at Miles, wrinkling her nose at the sandwich he''s currently nibbling. "Hardly. The boy acts like there''s something wrong with him. A werewolf child shouldn''t have any of the developmental problems he obviously has.¡±


    I stare at her, stunned and unable to believe what she''s just said. "First of all," I growl, stalking toward her, my heels chicking on the kitchen tiles, "don''t you dare speak about my son like that, especially not right in front of him. And second, he''s a human, just like me. So you''d best get your facts straight before you start making assumptions about how he should be raised."


    Mrs. White looks more confused than anything. She opens her mouth to respond,


    but I cut her off, pointing at the front door. "Get out."


    Her eyes sh. "You don''t employ me. Alpha Arthur does."


    "I don''t care. Get-"


    "Get out, Mrs. White."


    The low, rough sound of Arthur''s voice causes us both to turn. "Daddy!" Miles shouts with glee, reaching for him. Arthur strides up to him, ruffling his hair, but his eyes are Hard as steel as they fix on the nanny.


    "A-Alpha Arthur, I was just-


    4


    "I said, get out," Arthur growls. The cold authority in his voice is enough to make even me flinch, and I''m not as susceptible to his Alpha voice like werewolves are.


    The nanny stares at him for a moment, incredulous, before she storms upstairs. As she bangs around in her room, gathering her things, Arthur turns to Miles. "You okay, buddy?"


    Miles nods. "Better now that you''re here, Daddy."


    Arthur''s mouth twitches, and my heart turns to a stone, sinking down as if my belly is a coldke. But the feeling is gone just as quickly as it came, because Arthur then brushes past me without a word and heads upstairs.


    Thest thing I hear from him is the sound of his bedroom door firmly shutting. Chapter 116

 Chapter 116

    Iris


    Once we''re alone, I turn to Miles. He''s already back to being his usual smiley self, happily eating his sandwich and munching on his apple slices. The sight makes the ice around my heart melt just a little, and I ruffle his hair as ! move past him.


    I pour him a ss of milk, then one for myself just because, and take a seat next to him. He picks up the cup with both hands and takes a hearty chug before he returns to his sandwich.


    "You sure you''re okay, little wolf?" I ask softly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "I''m sorry I left you with that meandy. I won''t do it again."


    Miles shrugs. "It''s not your fault."


    I bite my lip, not feeling so sure about that. It sort of was my fault, in a way. Deep down, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I know that I really went to that event tonight for more than justworking. I went because I knew that Selina and Arthur would be there, and I was being... vindictive. Otherwise, I wouldn''t have left my son at all.


    Still, it feels like fate that I left early. If I had stayed through until the end of the event, Milesmight have fallen asleep right there at the table, left alone with an adult who was supposed to be caring for him-not forcing her draconian rules onto a five year old.


    "Well, I''m still sorry," I say softly, squeezing his shoulder. With a cherry on top."


    Miles swallows another gulp of his sandwich and looks up at me with a toothy grin. His little smile makes me smile, too, and I rx slightly in my chair, bolstered by his presence.


    It''s not long before Mrs. White trudges back down the stairs, her re as hateful as ever as she rounds the corner. She''s got a duffle bag in hand and is wearing her coat.


    "Incredible," she hisses, shaking her head as she brushes past. "Our werewolf youths deserve better."


    "Again, he''s not a werewolf," I call after her. "He''s a human, and you''re a-"I cut myself off, choosing not to say asshole in front of Miles, even though I really want to.


    The ex-nanny gives me an amused look from the foyer. "Keep telling yourself that," she says before storming out. The door ms shut behind her, leaving me more confused than before.


    I can''t help but nce at Miles, curious. When I was pregnant with him, the doctor said that he was 100% human, that the werewolf gene hadn''t been passed onto him. And so far, he hasn''t shown any signs of having a wolf.


    Most werewolves don''t see their wolves emerge until puberty, but still. If he were a werewolf, I''d see more signs by now. He hasn''t shown any-no special abilities, no ws or fangs, nothing.


    Still, out of curiosity, I rest my chin on my hand and look at him. "Miles, do you ever feel like you might have a wolf?"


    He nces up at me, his cheeks stuffed with thest bit of His sandwich. He just shrugs, his mouth too full to speak, and I brush it off. Mrs. White didn''t have a fucking clue. I think I know my own son better than she does.


    After Miles has finished his sandwich, I take him to bed, helping him change into his pajamas and tucking him in. Just as I''m moving to leave, he catches my hand. "Can you sing me a luby, Mommy?"


    The innocent request warms my heart, and I nod, perching on the edge of the


    bed. Slowly, gently, I hum the soothing tune of a familiar luby. Miles,forted by the sound of my voice, begins to drift off almost right


    away.


    I watch him, still humming and gently stroking his d


    Today''s Bonus Offer


    "Iris," he says, his eyes fixed on the image, "we need to talk."

 Chapter 117

    Chapter 117 Chapter 117


    Once I''m certain he''s asleep, I let out a soft sigh and bend down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.


    "Goodnight, little wolf," I whisper. The familiar nickname feels even more ironic


    now.


    After changing out of my gown, I''m not even close to feeling tired. Rather, I change into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, stuffing my feet into slippers and padding down the hall to my studio. Arthur''s room is quiet and dark when I pass, and I figure he''s sleeping.


    Quietly, I enter my studio and get to work. I don''t have any particr idea in mind tonight-I just put on a pair of headphones and listen to ssical music and let my brush flow. Before I know it, shapes and silhouettes are forming on the nk canvas, my arm moving in time with the gentle strains of a symphony.


    But it''s not long before I see it.


    The figures in the painting.


    Two figures, a man and a woman, fumbling in a dark closet. A bare breast, a tonguepping at flesh, a head thrown back in pleasure. By the time I realize what I''ve done, I gasp, dropping my paintbrush on the floor.


    I''ve identally painted myself and Arthur without even meaning to.


    Stunned, I stare at the painting for several long moments, the symphony still ying in my ears. Each curve of flesh, each harsh line of that tuxedo feels like a stab in the heart. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, a hot fire burning through my low belly.


    The symphony grows in speed, the tempo turning frantic, just like my pulse.


    I can''t take it anymore. As the music crescendos, and as my vision clouds with tears, I spot a box cutter sitting on my taboret. Before I can stop myself, I''m suddenly picking it up, my arm moving on its own as I begin to sh at


    the canvas.


    Choked sobs lodge in my throat with each sh. Paint stters across my hands, my arms, my shirt, even my face, but I don''t care. Each slice feels like a release and a shard of ss in my throat at the same time. sh, cut, rip, destroy. I have to destroy every memory of him, every taste of his skin, every-


    Strong hands suddenly grip my wrist, spinning me, just as I''m about to deliver my finishing blow. The headphones fall off of my head, ttering to the floor, erratic string instruments faintly humming through the air. Arthur stares down at me, shirtless, his eyes wild and stunned. It''s only then that I notice the shreds of canvas all over the room, the paint covering my hands like multicolored blood, and the boxcutter pointed directly at his heart.


    Only, I wasn''t the one who positioned it there. It was him. He''s holding the point to his chest, right over his heart, his green eyes silently willing me from beneath a shock of ck hair.


    Cut the painting, and you cut me, his eyes seem to say.


    Trembling, I open my fingers and the boxcutter falls to the floor alongside my headphones.


    Arthur doesn''t let go. He just stares at me, our chests heaving in tandem, as the ssical music draws to a climax and then fades away.


    Only then, once the room is silent enough to suffocate, does he release his grip on my wrist. I stagger backwards and sink down onto the daybed behind me, not caring if I get paint on the pillows.


    Slowly, painfully so, he stoops and picks up a particr shred of canvas. White and ck paint smear across his fingertips as he studies the depiction of my face, eyes closed and mouth smiling.

 Chapter 118

    Arthur


    Selina kissed me.


    Her lips were on mine before I had a chance to react, her hands cupping my face. The crowd nearby swooned, people pping and murmuring over the sweet disy of affection.


    But I didn''t want it. I didn''t want her.


    And worst of all, I couldn''t even shove her away like I really wanted to, because if I did, then I would be painted as the bad guy. So I had to endure it until it was over, carefully pulling away from her so as not to raise any eyebrows.


    As the crowd cheered for the Alpha King and future Luna, and as Selina smiled sweetly up at me, I stered a fake smile onto my face. I leaned in and murmured in her ear, "Come with me. Now."


    Selina giggled and took my hand, clearly expecting a closet tryst-just like the one I''d had to unfortunately cut short with Iris. But instead, I led her toward a secluded corner of the ballroom, positioned expertly behind a ratherrge potted nt.


    $


    Then, I whirled on her. "Selina, what the hell was that?" I hissed, keeping my voice low.


    She blinked as if in surprise. "What do you mean?"


    "You kissed me."


    Selina cocked her head. "Isn''t that what you wanted?" she asked, pouting slightly. "I thought we-''


    I took a step back, shaking my head, utterly incredulous. "You developed feelings, didn''t you?"


    "-"


    "Didn''t you?" I repeated.


    Selina swallowed, causing her throat to bob. Looking back now, I think that may have been the first time that I''ve ever seen genuine emotion on her smug face.


    "Yes," she finally admitted. "I''m in love with you, Arthur. I have been for a long time."


    I growled low in my chest, passing a hand over my face. "Selina, the contract states that we have to end it if either one of us develops feelings. We can''t continue this if you have feelings for me."


    She stared at me. "Fuck the contract, then," sheughed. "Don''t be silly, Arthur. If we love each other, then who cares?"


    "That''s the thing," I remarked. "I don''t love you. I love Iris. And I was pretty clear with you from the start what our arrangement would be."


    Selina froze, no doubt recalling the very first day we''d signed that contract. I''d practically spelled it out for her, in ring red letters: I would not fall in love with her. Our arrangement was contractual in nature and nothing more, a fake marriage in public and that was it. In private, I would still have Iris. And even when Iris left me, I never went back on my word.


    "Arthur-"


    "I''m sorry, Selina," I said, genuinely trying not to hurt her, "but I don''t feel the same way. And you''ve vited our contract, so I''m going to have to end it."


    Her eyes widened. "But I could mark you," she said. "I could unbind you from Iris, protect you from all of the


    ridicule of having a human mate. Wouldn''t that be easier?''


    I clenched my jaw, frustrated. Of course it would be easier to put an end to my bond with Iris. It wouldn''t make my wolf so damn crazy around her, it would help mitigate some of the intense attraction and obsession and jealousy.


    "But I don''t want that," I said, taking another step back. "I want to be with Iris."


    Selina''s face hardened then, any vestige of hurt turning into pure disbelief and anger. "So you''re ending our contract," she said. "Over a human."


    "Not just a human. My mate. The love of my life. The mother of my child."


    "She doesn''t even want you anymore! You know humans are fickle and selfish. She-"


    "Enough."


    The word was barely more than a growl, so low even I could hardly hear it, but it made Selina stiffen. I could feel my wolf pawing at the surface of my mind, the ancient authority in my bloodline urging me to put Selina in her ce. All it took was one word to shut her up.


    "Come to my office first thing in the morning," Isaid, smoothing down the front of my rumpled tuxedo. "Mywyer will go over everything with you then."


    And with that, I turned on my heel and left her standing there, fuming.


    Now, as I stand in the middle of Iris''s studio, surrounded by paint stters and scraps of canvas, I can''t stop staring at the image in my hands. Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 119

    She painted.... us. In the closet. Her mouth turned up in a smile, her eyes closed For the first time in five years, the looks truly peaceful and happy in this image, and yet for some reason, I found her tearing it to shreds like she''d gone rabid.


    My throat bobs as I finally look up at her. She''s sitting on the daybed, trembling, her paint-stained hands gripping her knees. "I didn''t mean to wake you," she says. I just... I don''t know what came over me."


    I think I have a pretty good feeling as to what came over her, and it''s my fault. I should have exined the situation to her when I got home, but I was ovee with thoughts and just needed to rest.


    But I couldn''t sleep. I never can without her or Miles by my side.


    "You didn''t wake me," I say, gingerly setting aside the piece of canvas. I swallow hard, then decide to just tell her outright. "Iris, I ended my contract with Selina.¡±


    Her eyes turn to saucers, fresh tears misting over the familiar honey color. "What?" she breathes, her voice hardly more than a whisper. It''s as if she''s not sure if she can believe it or not.


    I don''t have the strength to tell her everything. Not in detail, anyway. So I just say, "Selina developed feelings for me, which goes strictly against our contract. I ended things. It''s going to be finalized tomorrow."


    So does that mean..."


    I nod, taking a tentative step closer to her. "Selina is no longer engaged to me," I say quietly.


    Iris stares at me, a million different emotions seeming to war on her face at the same time. Finally, she lets out a shuddering little sound that''s almost like a sob, and hunches over. A fat tear drops onto her leg.


    Without thinking, I rush forward, dropping to my knees in front of her and gathering her into my arms. She doesn''t fight it as I pull her close, stroking her chestnut hair.


    I hold her like that for several long moments, cradling her slender frame as she quietly cries. I''m not sure if they''re tears of joy or sadness, but it doesn''t matter. What matters is that she''s crying, and she needs me, and I''m not fucking going anywhere.


    Finally, once her breathing has evened out a little, I pull back slightly. "I want you and Miles to stay with me now," I say firmly. "We should be together."


    There''s a strange look on her face, and she hesitates. "Publicly?" she chokes out. "If we get back together, we won''t have to hide away? Would you still view Miles as your true heir or would you want a werewolf surrogate?"


    The barrage of questions leaves me taken aback. For starters, Miles is a werewolf, not a human like Iris has always thought. I want to tell her the truth, but... something in me hesitates.


    If I tell her that I know, will she use me of only wanting her back because our son is a powerful Alpha wolf?


    Right now, everything feels so fragile, so tentative, that I make the snap decision to keep that tidbit to myself. Just until I can figure out the best way to do it. So instead, I say gently, "Having an Alpha heir or not wouldn''t affect my love for you both."


    Iris blinks and sniffles. "But what about us? I don''t want to be your secret family anymore."


    At that, I hesitate once more.


    Ordan isn''t ready for a human Luna. If I came out with Iris as my official wife, then I could potentially lose my office as President. Iris and Miles might even be in danger. Our society has taken great strides socially over the decades, but we''re still not there yet. Not by a long shot.


    My hesitation makes Iris''s face pale, her tears instantly drying. I can tell I''ve hurt her. Deeply.


    Suddenly, she stands, brushing past me. "I have to go to bed," she says, leaving.


    "Iris, wait-"


    But she''s already gone, something fluttering out of her pocket as she leaves. I pick it up, and am shocked to see that it''s a business card.


    Hunter Maverick.


    The famous artist from Ordan-the same man she was dancing with tonight. What are her intentions with him?

 Chapter 120

    Iris & Arthur


    Iris


    My emotions are at war this morning. Every time I think about Arthur ending his contract with Selina, my heart does a little flip. But then I remember the hesitation on his face when I asked about being his public wife, and that same heart crashes back down into my stomach.


    It seems I''m still not good enough to be seen with him in public. Still just the human hidden away.


    I need a distraction, so I pull out myptop and polish my presentation, which I''ll be presentingter today.


    But as I work on my slideshow, I can''t help but recall Hunter''s offer fromst night. I''ve been mulling it over all night, and after everything that''s happened... Maybe I shouldn''t be so unwilling to take a little help.


    His number is already in my phone-I added him to my contacts as I left the partyst night-so I send him a quick text:


    $


    "Hunter, this is Flora, from the eventst night. How are you?"


    33


    To my surprise, he responds almost immediately: "Flora! It''s so good to hear from you. I''m doing well. I take it you considered my offer?"


    My heart pounds. I bite my lip, reconsidering briefly, but then decide to just go for


    it. "Yes, actually. My presentation is this afternoon. Any chance you could put in a good word for me?"


    "Of course. I''ll make sure they know how talented you are. And I''ll be attending your presentation."


    Relief floods through me.


    Later, I decide not to leave Miles at home-especially now that we have no nanny- so I take him to my presentation with me. With my Flora disguise and him wearing a hat and some silly sses he picked out, we''re unrecognizable.


    Abbott Gallery is already bustling when we arrive. The residency is prestigious, and there are at least twenty other artists vying for just one spot. I recognize a few faces, including...


    Be.


    She notices me as soon as I walk in, her gaze immediately dropping to Miles.


    "Is this the daycare center now? I wasn''t aware children were wee."


    I tighten my grip on Miles'' hand, biting back a retort. This isn''t the time or ce to get into it with her.


    "Actually, they''re with me."


    The voice makes both Be and me turn. Hunter is standing by the door,


    impably dressed in a charcoal suit that makes his eyes stand out like blue


    mes. Be''s mouth snaps shut, and I feel a rush of gratitude toward Hunter. He winks at Miles, who beams up at him.


    "Hey there," Hunter says, crouching down to the boy''s level. "I''m Hunter, your mom''s friend. What''s your name?"


    Miles shyly looks up at me, but quietly says, "Miles."


    "That''s a wonderful name. Did youe today to support your mom during her presentation?" Miles nods hesitantly, and Hunter adds with a smile, "I''m sure she''s going to do ten times better now that you''re here."


    $25 SONOS


    The way he speaks to Miles makes something warm unfurl in my chest. It''s how Arthur speaks to him, and it''s rare to see that kind of genuine interaction from others, especially strangers.


    "The presentations will begin in five minutes," a staff member suddenly announces. "The first artist to present will be Flora. Please approach the podium.¡±


    Nodding, I crouch to Miles'' level and pinch his cheek. ¡°You can''te up with me, little wolf," I say gently. Remember what we talked about? If you sit nice and quiet, we can get ice cream afterwards."


    Miles nods, then nces up at Hunter. "Can I sit with you, Mr. Hunter?" Miles asks, surprising me. He''s usually so shy around new people.


    "I''d be honored," he tells Miles.


    As they settle into seats at the back of the presentation room, I make my way to the front, setting up myptop. My heart pounds in my chest at the size of the audience, but after a few deep breaths and a thumbs-up from Miles and Hunter, I feel a lot better.


    When my presentation begins, I''m surprised by how steady my voice is. I talk about my background, my


    influences, my artistic philosophy. I exin the pieces I''ve chosen to highlight, discussing my use of color and form and the emotions I aim to evoke.


    Throughout it all, I can see Miles in the back, sitting attentively beside Hunter, who asionally leans down to whisper something to him that makes him smile. The sight gives me strength.


    Be''s turnes after mine, and it bes immediately apparent that she hasn''t prepared a formal presentation at all. She stands at the front of the room with a practiced smile,unching into a speech about her family''s long history of supporting the arts and how she feels it''s ''simply time'' for her to receive recognition for her contributions.


    "I believe my reputation speaks for itself," she concludes, gesturing vaguely toward her portfolio without even opening it.


    One of themittee members clears his throat. "Be, we requested a formal presentation of your work and artistic vision. Do you have that prepared?" Be''s smile falters. "I wasn''t aware that was a requirement."


    "It was outlined clearly in the application materials," anothermittee member says. ¡°I''m afraid without a formal presentation, we can''t properly evaluate your candidacy."


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 121-122

    The color drains from Be''s face. "But... My family has donated to this institution for generations."


    "And we appreciate that support," themittee head saya diplomatically. "However, the residency is awarded based on artistic merit and vision, not family connections. I''m sorry, but you are disqualified."


    Be''s eyes sh with anger, and for a moment, I''m afraid she might shift right there in the middle of the presentation room. But instead, she gathers her untouched portfolio and storms out, shooting me onest venomous re as she passes.


    The presentations continue, but I''m still processing what just happened. The snooty, self-absorbed artist has been disqualified. It''s almost too good to be true.


    After everyone has presented, themittee calls us back one by one for feedback. When it''s my turn, I''m stunned by their response.


    "Flora, we were very impressed with your presentation and portfolio," themittee head tells me. "Your work shows a unique perspective and technical skill that stands out among the applicants. We''d like to invite you to the


    $ final round of testing for the residency."


    My heart skips a beat. "Thank you so much."


    "For the final round, we''d like you to prepare a body of work for an uing exhibition. The theme is ''Soul Ties. ''We''ll send you the full details as soon as possible."


    As I gather my things, Hunter approaches with Miles'' hand in his. "Congrattions," he says warmly. "I knew they''d recognize your talent."


    "Thank you for your help," I tell him sincerely. "I appreciate it more than you know."


    Hunter smiles. "It wasn''t just me. Your work speaks for itself." He ruffles Miles'' hair. "And this little guy was the perfect audience member. Didn''t make a sound the whole time."


    Miles beams up at him, and I feel that strange pang again. Guilt. Why do I feel guilty?


    "We should get going," I say, taking Miles'' hand. ¡°It''s been a long day, and I promised you ice cream."


    "I''ll see you soon, Flora," Hunter says with a nod. Something warm and tender flickers in his eyes, and my traitorous heart stops momentarily in my chest. Arthur


    The contract lies on the desk between us, a stack of papers that represents five years of my life. Five years of pretending, of keeping up appearances, of trying to convince the world¡ªand myself that I could live with Selina as my "wife".


    Across from me, Selina sits ramrod straight. Beside her, Caleb glowers at me.


    "I''ll need you both to sign here," mywyer says, pointing to the lines at the bottom of the final page. "This officially terminates your engagement contract, effective immediately."


    I pick up the pen without hesitation, signing my name. When I look up, Selina hasn''t moved.


    "I''m not signing."


    Mywyer clears his throat. "I should remind you that the contract includes a clear termination use. In the


    event that either party develops romantic feelings, the contract is automatically considered null and void. Your signature is a formality."


    She ignores mywyer and looks at me. "Arthur, please. Don''t do this."


    I lean back in my chair, exhausted. "The decision is made, Selina. I''m not going to change my mind."


    "Because of her," she spits out. "That human."


    My wolf bristles, but I don''t respond. I just push the papers a little closer to Selina, my eyes hard.


    Caleb sighs, opening his briefcase and pulling out a folder. He slides it across the desk to me. "Open it."


    I do, and inside are photographs-of Iris at various events where I was also present, Iris walking with Miles, even one of Iris entering my apartment building. There''s also a document that appears to be Miles'' birth certificate.


    "What is this?" I ask, although I know exactly what it is. ckmail.


    "Insurance,¡± Caleb says simply. "If you go through with this termination, we''ll release these to the press. Everyone will know exactly what your human mistress and your half-breed son look like, their names, and where they live. They won''t be able to leave the house without being recognized and ridiculed."


    My blood boils. "So you''re intending to dox an innocent child."


    "We''re just trying to make you see reason," Selina says. "Call off the termination. We can go back to the way things were."


    "The way things were?" I repeat, incredulous. "You want me to keep pretending, even now that you''ve admitted you have feelings for me? Feelings I''ll never return?"


    She flinches as if I''ve pped her. "I thought... with time...


    "No," I say firmly. "It''s over, Selina."


    Selina stares at me for a long moment, then something shifts in her expression. "Onest event," she says suddenly. "Attend onest public event with me-the Abbott exhibition next week. It''s been scheduled for months. Everyone''s expecting us to be there. After that, I''ll sign the termination."


    "And if I refuse?"


    She gestures to the folder. "Then these go to every news outlet in the city by tonight."


    I clench my jaw, weighing my options. I don''t relish the idea of one more night with Selina. But if those photos get


    out...


    "Fine." I stand up, buttoning my suit jacket. "But let''s be clear. This changes nothing. As soon as that event is over, this contract ends for good."


    Iris


    I blink at my phone screen, my thumb hovering over the article that''s just popped


    up in my notifications. The headline makes my stomach drop: "Famous Artist Hunter Maverick''s Secret Family Revealed?"


    There''s a photo beneath it-Hunter, Miles, and me at the Abbott Gallery presentation yesterday. Miles is grinning up at Hunter, who is crouched in front of him with a matching smile of his own. I''m standing nearby, watching the two of them with a tender look on my face.


    An innocent moment, that''s what it was. Or at least, it should have been.


    But, as always, the media has an uncanny way of twisting things. I should have known better-should have known better than to take Miles out in public knowing fully well just how easy it is to be recognized. Especially at a public event with famous artists around.


    I know I shouldn''t look, but I have to. I click on the link, and the words swim before my eyes as I scan the text:


    "Sources have revealed that renowned Ordan artist Hunter Maverick may have been secretly dating fellow artist Flora for some time. The couple was spotted with their young son at the Abbott Gallery yesterday, where Flora gave a presentation for the prestigious residency program."


    My heart hammers in my chest as I scan the rest of the article. It ims that Miles might be our son-our son- and that Hunter has been keeping us a secret for years.


    This is bad. Really bad. Within less than twenty-four hours, rumors have spread about me and Hunter being a couple-with Miles as our son! How did this even happen?


    No, I know how it happened. I was fucking careless. I should never have taken Miles out yesterday. I should never have-


    Suddenly, my phone buzzes with a text message, cutting through my train of thought. It''s Hunter.


    "Have you seen the articles? I''m so sorry about this. Can we talk?"


    I type back quickly: "Yes, just saw. How did this happen?"


    His response is immediate: "Someone at the gallery must have recognized me


    and tipped off the press. I feel terrible. Can I call you?"


    I nce at Miles'' bedroom door, still closed. "Give me 10 minutes to get Miles up and eating breakfast."


    "Of course."


    After getting Miles settled with cereal and some cartoons, I step into my studio


    with my phone. When I call Hunter, he picks up on the first ring.


    "Iris, I''m so sorry," he says immediately. "I had no idea anyone would make these assumptions."


    "It''s not your fault," I sigh, running a hand through my hair.


    "I''ve already contacted my publicist to issue a statement denying the rtionship rumors," Hunter says. "But I''m worried the damage is already done. I''m sorry, this is all my fault."


    I shake my head, even though he can''t see me. "It''s not your fault. It''s just the media being the media."


    There''s a pause on the other end of the line. "Still, this can''t be good for your situation. Do you want me to do anything else?¡±


    +25 BORRUS


    I consider this for a moment. "No, I think a simple denial is best. The more we protest, the more attention it will draw."


    "You''re right," Hunter agrees. "But listen, if you need anything-anything at all¡ªI''m here for you."


    After we hang up, I sit on my painting stool, staring nkly at the canvas I''ve been working on for the exhibition. The theme "Soul Ties" feels ironic now. My soul is tied to Arthur, has always been tied to Arthur, even when I wish it wasn''t, and yet here I am, being linked romantically to another man in the press.


    I should call Arthur, I think. If only to let him know what''s happening before he sees it himself. He''s gone already for the day, so I decide to call him.


    But when I try his number, it goes straight to voicemail. I try again with the same result. With a sigh, I put my phone away and get back to work.


    He never calls me back.


    The next few days pass in a blur. I throw myself into my work, trying to forget about the rumors swirling around me. Hunter''s publicist issues a statement denying our romantic involvement, but it doesn''t seem to make much difference. If anything, it just fans the mes.


    What''s more concerning is Arthur''s absence. I''ve barely seen him since the night he told me he ended things with Sel¨ªna. My texts go unanswered for hours, sometimes days, and when he does respond, it''s with brief, nomittal messages. Has he changed his mind about us? Is he upset about the rumors? I can''t figure it out, and not knowing is driving me crazy.


    The only bright spot is my growing friendship with Hunter and Alice. They''ve both been incredibly supportive, helping me navigate the sudden attention from the press and offering advice on my exhibition pieces.


    One day, Alice invites me to the park. It''s a beautiful, sunny day, so I get Miles


    ready in his little disguise and take him out. We meet Alice at a park downtown that has a yground, and I''m surprised to see Hunter there when I approach.


    "Iris," Alice says, touching my arm, "I ran into Hunter on my way here. I hope you don''t mind..."


    I nce over at Hunter, all three of us knowing fully well just how problematic this could be. But the park is empty, and we''re all wearing hats and sunsses tobat the sun, so I''m not too concerned. With a smile, I send Miles off to y and sit at the stone pic table with Alice and Hunter.


    We spend the next hour at the yground, Miles moving from the swings to the slide to the jungle gym, his energy seemingly limitless. I notice a few people walking past, but they don''t seem to recognize us. Alice, Hunter and I chat endlessly about art, with the two of them giving me suggestions as to how to ensure my work pleases the panel at Abbott for the residency.


    As the afternoon wears on, Miles finally starts to show signs of fatigue, his steps slowing as he climbs thedder to the slide onest time.


    "I think someone''s ready for a nap," I say to Hunter and Alice as Miles slides down with considerably less enthusiasm than before.


    Alice checks her watch. "Yeah, I should be heading back anyway. I''ve got a video call with a gallery in Bo''Arrocan in an hour."


    We''re just about to leave the park when a group of three young women approach


    us. "Shit," Hunter says, covering his face. But it''s toote. They''ve already recognized us.


    "Oh my god, you''re Hunter Maverick!" one of them squeals "I''m such a huge fan


    of your work."


    Hunter smiles politely. "Thank you. That''s very kind."


    I think we might get off scot-free, but then another woman looks between Hunter


    and me. "And you''re Flora, right? We saw the articles about you two. You make such a cute couple!"


    I open my mouth to correct her, but before I can speak, the third woman pulls out


    her phone.


    "Can we get a picture with you guys? And maybe..." she nces at Hunter with a mischievous smile, "...maybe you could kiss for the photo? That would be so


    cute!"


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 123

    POV Test 123


    Iris


    My face burns hot as the fans stare at us, their cameras in hand. I nce at Hunter, who looks just as stunned as I feel. For a long, awkward moment, there''s nothing but silence.


    "Please?" the girl asks, shaking her phone slightly. "Your rtionship is so cute!"


    "1-we''re not "I stammer, pulling Miles closer to my side.


    Hunter clears his throat. "I''m sorry, but we''re just friends. The rumors about us aren''t true."


    The women''s faces fall in obvious disappointment. One of them tucks her phone away with a pout. "But the articles said-"


    "The articles were wrong," I cut in firmly. "Hunter has been kind enough to support my art career, that''s all."


    "Then who is the father of your child?" another woman asks bluntly, nodding toward Miles, who is now half-hiding behind my legs. "Everyone''s saying you two have been hiding your rtionship for years. Unless there''s another man..."


    My stomach twists ufortably. This is exactly what I''ve been afraid of-Miles being dragged into this mess, bing the subject of gossip and spection. I thought I''d gotten away from it with the situation with Arthur, but I was wrong. "That''s really none of your business," Alice suddenly interjects, stepping forward. "Now if you''ll excuse us, we need to get going."


    The women look disappointed but reluctantly leave. As soon as they''re out of earshot, I exhale heavily.


    "I am so sorry about that," Hunter says, running a hand through his hair. ¡°This is getting out of control."


    "It''s not your fault," I tell him, even though my heart is still racing


    We part ways shortly after, with Alice promising to call meter. The entire way home, I can''t shake the feeling that even more gossip will surface online within hours, along with new spection about the mysterious man in my life who isn''t Hunter. It''s only a matter of time before someone connects the dots to Arthur.


    When I arrive home with Miles, I''m surprised to find Arthur''s shoes by the door. He''s rarely home this early in the afternoon. Miles runs ahead of me, excited to see him.


    "Daddy!" he calls out, racing into the living room.


    I follow more slowly, feeling a strange sense of dread settle over me. I''ve barely seen Arthur in days. He''s been out of the house pretty much every waking hour since he allegedly ended his contract with Selina, and every time I see him, it feels more awkward than thest.


    He''s sitting on the couch with hisptop open, but he closes it when Miles bounds into the room. He scoops our son up with a smile, but something stiffens in his expression when he sees me standing in the archway. There''s tension in his shoulders that wasn''t there before.


    "Hey, little wolf," he says, ruffling Miles'' hair, and the fact that he picked up on my nickname for Miles makes my heart twinge slightly. "Did you have fun at the park?"


    Miles nods enthusiastically andunches into a detailed ount of his yground adventures,pletely oblivious to the strange heaviness in the air. As Miles chatters away, Arthur''s eyes find mine over our son''s head once more, and something in them makes my heart stutter


    That''s when I notice the stack of papers on the coffee table. The contract. The one that''s supposed to be ending his fake engagement to Selina.


    "Miles, why don''t you go wash up before dinner?" I suggest once there''s a pause in his monologue.


    He scampers off without argument, leaving Arthur and me alone. I nod toward the papers.


    "Is that what I think it is?"


    Arthur sighs, leaning back against the couch. "Yes."


    I move closer, perching on the arm of a nearby chair. "Has been canceled yet?¡± I try to keep my tone casual, but there''s a thread of hope running through it that I can''t quite disguise.


    "It''s still in the works," he says, and something in my chest detes.


    "What''s taking so long?" I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "I thought you said it would be simple." Arthur''s jaw tightens. "It''splicated, Iris. There are... factors I didn''t anticipate."


    "Like what?"


    He doesn''t answer immediately, and in that hesitation, I feel the distance between us growing wider. ¡°Legal issues,¡± he finally says with a wave of his hand. "Contractual obligations that need to be fulfilled before the termination can beplete."


    I want to believe him, but there''s something... off about his exnation. I


    remember the rumor articles and wonder if he''s seen them. If he thinks there''s something going on between Hunter and me.

 Chapter 124

    "Arthur, about those articles-"


    "I don''t want to talk about that right now," he interrupts, standing up abruptly. "I have a lot of work to do tonight."


    I watch him gather the contract papers and hisptop, heading toward his office without another word. The door closes behind him with a soft click that somehow sounds like a gunshot in the sudden silence.


    The next few days pass in much the same way-Arthur distant and preupied, me throwing myself into finishing my artwork for the exhibition. I paint like a woman possessed, channeling all my confusion and hurt into my brush strokes.


    The theme "Soul Ties" takes on new meaning as I create pieces that explore the invisible bonds between people- the ones that stretch and strain but never quite break. In each painting, there are subtle elements that represent my ties to Arthur, to Miles, even to myself. It''s the most personal work I''ve ever done, raw and honest in a way that sometimes makes me ufortable.


    Finally, the day before the exhibition, Iplete thest piece. I stand back, exhausted but satisfied, knowing I''ve poured everything I have into this collection.


    As if on cue, my phone pings with a message from Hunter: How''s the artworking along?"


    I take a quick photo of my studio, canvases leaning against the walls, and send it to him.


    He responds almost immediately: "They look amazing, even from this distance. You''re going to blow everyone away."


    A few minutester, another message arrives: "Would you like me to attend the exhibition with you? For moral support. No pressure either way."


    I stare at the screen, conflicted. Part of me knows it''s not a good idea, given the rumors. But another part is desperate for someone to be there, someone who understands what this opportunity means to me. Arthur has been so distanttely, I''m not even sure if he''s nning toe.


    Without thinking too much about it, I type back: "That would be nice. Thank you."


    The night of the exhibition arrives, and I''m a bundle of nerves. I''ve chosen to wear a simple ck dress, elegant but not shy. I want my art to be what people notice, not me. Thankfully, Cliff is avable to watch Miles while I''m gone, and once I don my Flora disguise, I''m ready.


    Inside, the gallery has been transformed. The lighting is perfect, highlighting each piece exactly as I''d hoped. My collection has been given a prominent space, and several people are already gathered around, discussing my work quietly.


    "Iris, this is extraordinary," Hunter murmurs as we walk slowly through the exhibition space. "You''ve outdone yourself."


    A warm glow of pride spreads through me. I nce over at my star piece, which I''ve titled "Red Thread". It''s an image of a hand tangled in a thin red thread. The thread wraps so tightly around some of the fingers that they''re beginning to turn purple.


    In some spots, the thread cuts straight into the skin, beading red blood along the surface of the palm-specifically where the "life line" is. The thread eventually moves off the canvas altogether, indicating that it''s connected to an unseen, unknown force.


    Unseen and unknown by the viewer, at least.

 Chapter 125

    Iris


    $75 BONUS


    Seeing them together breaks my heart all over again.


    Arthur stands tall next to Selina, his hand resting on the small of her back as they chat with a small crowd of admirers. His Alpha President smile is perfectly in ce, the one that graces magazine covers and campaign posters.


    Selinaughs at something someone says, tossing her perfect hair over one shoulder, her red dress catching the light in a way that makes her look like she''s glowing. She leans into Arthur, whispering something in his ear, and he smiles down at her.


    No. No, no, no.


    Before the tears that are pricking at the backs of my eyes begin to spill, I duck behind arge sculpture, trying to steady my breathing. Just then, Hunter shows up with two champagne flutes, handing one to me,


    "Are you alright?" he asks, furrowing his brow when he sees the horrified look on my face. "You look like you''ve seen a ghost."


    I take arge sip of champagne, weing the burn down my throat. "I''m fine," I lie. I can''t tell him. Of course I can''t tell him.


    Hunter follows my gaze across the room, his eyes narrowing slightly when he spots Arthur and Selina standing there. "Ah, I didn''t know the Alpha President and his fiancee were attending. That''s a huge deal."


    "I didn''t know either," I say quickly. Too quickly.


    I turn away, leading Hunter toward another section of the gallery, as far from Arthur and Selina as possible. But it seems the universe isn''t done torturing me yet.


    "Oh, and of course when the timees, we''ll want to ensure our child inherits the strongest Alpha traits," Selina''s voice carries across the room as we pass by a small group of people. "Arthur''s lineage is exceptional. Our future child will make a powerful Alpha President someday!"


    My steps falter. Child? They''re nning a child together?


    Hunter steadies me with a hand on my elbow. "You sure you''re okay?"


    I nod automatically, moving away from the voice that''s slicing through me like a knife. I focus instead on my breathing, on putting one foot in front of the other. Somehow, I make it through the next hour, eptingpliments on my work, discussing technique and inspiration. But inside, I''m crumbling


    I''m examining the refreshment table, looking for something stronger than champagne, when a familiar scent hits me. Flowery, expensive perfume. The same perfume I smelled five years ago when that witch entered my home and took my life from me.


    I don''t need to turn around to know it''s Selina. I can feel her presence like a cold shadow at my back.


    "Selina," I say stiffly, turning to face her.


    She''s even more beautiful than usual today, her skin wless, her eyes gleaming with something predatory. "I didn''t know you were going to be showing here," she says, tilting her head to the side.


    I purse my lips. We both know fully well that she knew I made it to this round of the residency selection process. I wonder if Arthur knows; he had to have, right? Did hee here with her, knowing that I''d be here, that I expected him to end the contract, just to... what? Humiliate me? Put me in my ce?


    When I don''t respond, Selina''s eyes drift to my art piece nearby-"Red Thread"-and her lips curl into a feline smile. "It''s rather... human, isn''t it? All that emotion on disy. So messy."


    I still say nothing, not trusting myself to speak. I don''t even trust myself to move, for fear I might p her.


    She sighs, studying her perfectly manicured nails. That''s when I see it-the ring on her finger. Not just any ring The engagement ring. The one Arthur gave her. The one he was supposed to have taken back when their contract ended.


    My heart plummets to my stomach. The room starts to spin slightly.


    "Does it bother you?" Selina asks. She holds up her hand, letting the massive diamond catch the light. "Most women are intimidated by it. It''s been specially designed, you know. Arthur had it custom made."


    "I didn''t know you were still engaged," I manage to say, my voice sounding distant and hollow to my own ears. Selinaughs airily. She''s doing it again, ensuring that, to anyone else who might be watching, she''s just smiling andughing at something I said. That she''s not cutting me up with her words.


    "Oh, we never stopped being engaged. In fact, we''ve intensified our contract." She leans in slightly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "We''ve added a pregnancy use."


    My blood turns to ice in my veins.


    "Arthur will impregnate me, and I''ll have his true heir," she continues, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Nothing at all like... well, let''s just say a true Alpha heir, not some half-breed abomination."


    Just then, the gallery director approaches, beaming, "Vlor your work is causing quite a stir. Themittee members are very impressed."


    "Thank you," I say, feeling a flutter of hope surge in my chest, Could I actually win this residency, even against att of the other amazing artwork here tonight?


    The director moves on to greet other guests, and Hunter offers to get me a drink. As he walks away, I stand alone before "Red Thread", taking it in onest time. The severity of the thread cutting across the palm almost seems to make my own palm ache, and I can''t help but press my thumb into the spot.


    But no matter how nice the event is, it feels... empty. Looking at the painting of the red thread, I feel a profound absence where Arthur belongs. He should be here tonight, by my side, but he''s not. Because even if we weren''t so distant, he still couldn''t be seen with me in public.


    Hence the red thread trailing off the canvas, out of sight, where no one but me knows where it leads.


    Suddenly, a hush falls over the crowd near the entrance, and I turn instinctively toward the sound. My heart sinks as I see them-Arthur and Selina, entering the gallery...


    Together.

 Chapter 126

    "You don''t know what you''re talking about," I bite out.


    She cocks her head like a bird studying its prey. "Oh, but I do. I know that Arthur isn''t going to give up everything for you. His presidency, his reputation, his future. You''re just an unfortunate human mate to fulfill his bodily needs. But I''m his equal. I''m the one who will bear his legitimate heir. I''m the one who will hold his heart."


    Each word is a knife in my chest. I want to scream, to cry, to tell her she''s wrong. But the ring on her finger tells a different story, and I''m too frozen to say a word. "Excuse me," I finally manage to choke out, pushing past her. She doesn''t follow


    me.


    I stumble through the crowd, desperately searching for somewhere quiet,


    somewhere I can breathe. I find a small alcove near the emergency exit and press my back against the wall, gasping for air.


    Hunter finds me a few minutester.


    "What happened? You look like you''re about to pass out."


    I shake my head, unable to speak. If I do, I might break down.


    "Hey, hey," he says softly, stepping closer. "Whatever it is, it''s going to be okay."


    He doesn''t know. He doesn''t understand. How could he? How could anyone understand what it feels like to have your heart ripped out and stomped on in public, while being unable to even react because no one knows who you really are?


    Suddenly, Hunter''s handes up to cup my cheek. "You don''t have to tell me what''s wrong. Just know that I''m here for you."


    I flinch slightly at the unexpected touch and look up at him through tear-filled eyes. His face is kind, caring. He''s been nothing but supportive from the moment we met. He has no idea that I belong to another man-a man who apparently never really belonged to me at all.


    Hunter misreads my gaze. He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away. But I''m frozen, paralyzed by my own pain and confusion. His lips brush against mine-the softest, most tentative of kisses.


    For a split second, I don''t react. Then reality crashes back in, and I jerk away.


    "I''m sorry," I gasp. ¡°I can''t. I just... I can''t."


    Hunter steps back immediately, his face flushing with embarrassment. ¡°I''m the one who should apologize. I misread the situation."


    "It''s not your fault," I say, wiping away a stray tear. "I just need to leave. I need to get out of here."


    I move past him, heading back to the main gallery. My mind is racing. I need to collect my purse, make my excuses, and get home to Miles. Miles, who Arthur has apparently written off as a "half-breed abomination" that doesn''tpare to the "true heir" he''s nning with Selina.


    I grab my purse from the coat check and pull out my phone, ready to call a cab. That''s when a hand grips my arm, spinning me around.


    Arthur stands before me, his eyes dark with anger.


    "What the hell was that?" he growls, his voice low enough that only I can hear. "What was what?" I pull my arm free from his grasp.


    "You and Hunter." His jaw clenches. "I saw you in the alcove."


    A hystericalugh bubbles up in my throat. "Are you serious right now? You''re jealous? You?"


    "I don''t want him touching you," Arthur says, his eyes shing with that dangerous Alpha light.


    My anger rises to match his. "What right do you have to tell me who can touch me? You''re engaged, Arthur. You never ended things with Selina. You''re nning a child with her!"


    His eyebrows pull together in confusion. "What are you talking about?"


    "Don''t y dumb. Selina just told me everything. She showed me the ring-the one she''s still wearing because you''re still engaged. She told me about the pregnancy use." My voice breaks on thest words. "She told me how you''re going to impregnate her so she can bear your true Alpha heir, not some ''half- breed abomination'' like Miles."


    Arthur''s face pales. "Iris, I would never-


    "Save it," cut him off, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "I saw you two tonight, ying the perfect couple. Discussing your future child. Did you lie to me? Were you ever going to end things with her, or were you just trying to cate me? To keep me as your human on the side while you build your perfect Alpha family with Selina?"


    Arthur reaches for me again. "Iris, please, let me exin-


    I step back, out of his reach. "There''s nothing to exin. I saw you. I heard you.


    And Selina made everything perfectly clear."


    Before he can answer, I turn on my heel and burst out of the gallery.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 127

    Arthur & Iris


    Arthur


    I watch Iris rush out of the gallery, and something inside of me snaps. The pain on her face, the tears in her eyes- all caused by Selina''s lies. By my weakness in letting this charade continue for too long


    No more.


    I stride back into the main gallery, looking for Selina. She stands near Iris''s "Red Thread" painting, a champagne flute delicately held between her freshly manicured fingers,ughing with some wealthy patrons.


    I cut through the crowd, ignoring the hands that reach out to shake mine, the voices calling my name. My focus narrows to Selina and the smug smile on her face.


    "Arthur," she purrs when she spots me approaching. "Come meet the


    Richardsons. They''re huge supporters of your administration."


    I don''t acknowledge the couple standing beside her. Instead, I grab Selina''s arm and pull her to the side.


    "What did you say to her?" I demand.


    Selina blinks innocently. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "To Iris. What did you say to her?"


    Her eyes flicker with something, then narrow. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "It''s over, Selina."


    "What''s over?" Sheughs lightly, as if I''ve told a mediocre joke.


    "The engagement. The contract. All of it."


    Her smile falters. "You can''t be serious. Arthur-"


    Before she can say another word, I turn away from her, facing the crowd that has gathered around us. Among them, I spot the gallery director and several prominent members of Alpha society. Perfect.


    "I''d like to make an announcement," I say, my voice carrying through the gallery. Conversation dies down as all eyes turn to me. "I want to publicly state that my engagement to Selina is terminated, effective immediately. We are done."


    Gasps ripple through the crowd. Camera phones are raised, know this will be all over social media within minutes, but I don''t care.


    "Arthur!" Selina hisses behind me. "You can''t do this!"


    I ignore her protest and continue. "I apologize for the public nature of this announcement, but I felt it necessary to set the record straight. Now if you''ll excuse me," I say, stepping away from Selina, "there''s someone I need to find."


    With that, I push through the crowd, heading for the exit. Behind me, I hear Selina''s furious voice calling my name, but I ignore her. I don''t even look back. Outside, the evening air hits me like a cold wall. It''s begun to rain, and it pours down in heavy sheets now, soaking through my suit jacket in seconds. I search frantically up and down the street, hoping to catch sight of Iris.


    4


    There about half a block away-a woman in a ck dress is climbing into a cab. Iris.


    "Iris!" I shout, running toward her. "Iris, wait!"


    The rain drowns out my voice. I sprint down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians huddled under umbres, my shoes sshing through puddles.


    "Iris!"


    The cab door closes. The red tail lights illuminate the rain as the vehicle pulls away from the curb.


    I reach the spot where the cab had been just moments toote, my lungs burning, rain streaming down my face. The cab merges into traffic, taking Iris away.


    Iris


    The cab rumbles through the rain-slicked streets, carrying me away from the gallery, away from Arthur and Selina and their perfect Alpha life together. I press my forehead against the cool ss of the window, watching raindrops race down the surface.


    I thought I''d cried all my tears years ago when Arthur first abandoned me. I thought I''d built up enough armor around my heart that nothing could hurt me this deeply again.


    I was wrong.


    The pain feels fresh, raw, as if no time has passed at all. Except now it''s worse, because I''ve had a taste of what could have been. I''ve allowed myself to hope, to dream of a future together. And once again, that hope has been crushed.


    "You okay back there, miss?" the cab driver asks, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.


    I nod, not trusting my voice. He shrugs and turns his attention back to the road.


    My phone buzzes in my purse-again. I''ve been ignoring the constant stream of notifications since I left the gallery. I know who they''re from, and I can''t bear to read his excuses right now.


    What could he possibly say to exin away what I saw with my own eyes? What I heard with my own ears? The evidence was right there-Selina still wearing the engagement ring, the two of them discussing their future child, the pregnancy use in their contract.


    And if that wasn''t enough, the way he touched her, smiled at her...


    A sob escapes my throat, and I press my hand against my mouth to stifle it. The driver pretends not to notice.


    I think about Miles waiting at home with Cliff, blissfully unaware that his world is about to be turned upside down. Again. Because I can''t do this anymore. I can''t live in Arthur''s home when he''s just going to lie to me over and over again for the sake of political power.


    I have to leave. I have to take Miles and get a new apartment, away from Arthur. It can''t just be a distant goal anymore. It needs to be a reality.


    By the time the cab pulls up to my-to Arthur''s-ce, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. I pay the driver and step out. The apartment is quiet when I enter, just a singlemp illuminating the hallway. Cliff emerges from the kitchen with a mug of tea in his hands.


    "You''re back early," he says, then frowns when he sees my face. "What happened?"


    I shake my head. "Is Miles asleep?"


    "Yes, he went down about an hour ago. Didn''t even make it through his bedtime story."


    Despite everything, that brings a small smile to my face. "Thank you for watching him."


    Cliff studies me for a moment, concern etched in his weathered face. "Are you sure you''re alright?"


    "I will be," I answer, although I''m not sure I believe it. "You can go home now. I''m


    just going to check on Miles and then go to bed."


    He nods. "Alright. Oh, by the way, you got mail." He nods toward the kitchen counter. "Seems official."


    With that, Cliff says goodnight and leaves. I pick up the envelope with a furrowed brow. Turning it over in my hand, I see the return address-it''s from the samew firm I visited before, the elderlywyer who refused to help me. Curious, I tear open the envelope and unfold the letter inside.


    "After reconsideration of your case and a thorough review of Alpha legal precedent, I must inform you that I was mistaken in my initial assessment. It hase to my attention that Alpha President Arthur had no legal grounds to force you to remain in Ordan against your will, regardless of his status as an Alpha or as the father of your child."


    My hands begin to shake as I continue reading.


    "We would be pleased to ept you as a client and represent you in any legal proceedings necessary to assert your independence and establish appropriate custody arrangements for your son."


    The letter goes on, discussing potential meeting times and legal strategies, but I can hardly focus on the words. My mind is racing.


    Arthur had no legal grounds. All this time, he had no right to force me to stay in Ordan. He... lied to me.


    Again.

 Chapter 128

    Tris & Arthur


    Iris


    Suddenly, as I''m reading the legal letter, a sharp knock at the door breaks through the silence. I fold the letter quickly and tuck it into my dress pocket, then open the door without checking first-a mistake.


    Selina is standing there.


    "We need to talk," she says, pushing past me into the apartment without waiting for an invitation.


    I turn to face her, my hand gripping the doorknob. "Leave. There''s nothing to talk about."


    "You''ve ruined everything," she hisses, ignoring my request for her to leave. "Do you have any idea what you''ve done? Arthur just publicly humiliated me''in front of everyone who matters in Ordan."


    My breath catches. "What are you talking about?"


    "He announced that our engagement is over." She spits the words at me like venom. "In front of the entire gallery. Years of nning, of positioning myself, of loving him, all destroyed because he couldn''t keep it in his pants around you."


    I stand frozen, processing her words. Arthur ended the engagement after all? Publicly?


    "You should have taken the money and nevere back," Selina hisses, stepping closer. "All those years ago. You could have livedfortably in Bo''Arrocan, you could have"


    "I didn''t want it," I cut her off, folding my arms across my chest. My eyes flick to my phone sitting on the kitchen counter, and I begin to move toward it, wondering


    if I should call the police before this gets out of hand. Which it will.


    Selina''s eyes sh. "Bullshit. All you ever cared about was money."


    "No, I didn''t. I never cared about any of that."


    "Please." Selina rolls her eyes. "We both know you''re just a gold-digger whotched onto a rich Alpha the second you have a chance. You happily let Arthur take care of you for years so you wouldn''t have to work."


    I step forward, my hands balling into fists at my sides. "I''ve never chosen Arthur for his money. I chose him because I love him. I''ve always loved him. Even if he were dirt poor, I would have stayed with him."


    "Love?" Selina scoffs. "You know nothing about Arthur or what he needs. You''re just a human-a distraction. You can''t give him what I can."


    "And what''s that? A loveless political marriage? A partner who only cares about power and status?"


    Her smile turns cruel. "A true understanding of what it means to be an Alpha. Strength. Children who can carry on his legacy. Even though that kid of yours is a wolf, that hybrid freak will never amount to anything. He''s too much like his mother."


    I think of Miles, sleeping peacefully upstairs, unaware of any of this. I''d like to keep it that way, so I keep my voice low and steady as I say, "You don''t know anything about my son. And furthermore, he''s not a wolf. He''s a human."


    "Is he?" As if she expected this, Selina reaches into her purse and pulls out a folded document. She thrusts it toward me with a malicious little smile. "Take a look."


    With shaking hands, I unfold the paper. It''s a test result. A DNA test.


    "Wolf gene expression: positive."


    My stomach drops. This has to be some kind of a trick. How could I possibly believe anything Selina has to say? Miles isn''t an Alpha wolf-he''s a human. Like me. The doctor told me so when I was pregnant.


    And yet, somehow, I can''t find a lie in her eyes. Miles...


    "What is this?" I ask, my voice hardly more than a whisper,


    Selina''s smile turns triumphant. "Aw. He didn''t tell you, did he?" She jerks her chin toward the document. "I found that in his office. Look at the date."


    I stare at the paper, my mind racing. The date is set to weeks ago. Has Arthur known for weeks that Miles is a wolf and not a human? He''s known all this time, and he hasn''t said a word to me? What is he trying to hide from me?


    Selina suddenly takes the paper back from my limp fingers. "Why do you think he''s suddenly so interested in. ying daddy? It''s not because he loves you, Iris. It''s because he wants an Alpha heir. That''s all Miles is to him- political currency. Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 129

    I shake my head, refusing to believe her words. "You''re lying. Arthur loves Miles."


    She tilts her head in an almost feline fashion. "Keep telling yourself that." Selina tucks the document back into her purse. "But ask yourself why he never told you about Miles'' true nature. Why he let you believe your son was just a human boy."


    My mind shes to all the little signs I''d dismissed-Miles''s unusually quick reflexes, his heightened sense of smell, the way his eyes sometimes catch the light just like Arthur''s. The very fact that he could sense that Arthur was his father in the only way werewolves can.


    "Little wolf," I called him for years. All this time, he really was one.


    Selina moves toward the door then, pausing with her hand on the knob. "You should have taken the money and run when you had the chance, Iris. Now it''s toote." She opens the door. "Arthur may think he wants you now, but trust me once he secures his rights to his Alpha son, you''ll be nothing more than a footnote in his story. And he''lle back to me, where he belongs."


    With that, she walks out, closing the door behind her with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the silence.


    Arthur


    I stare at my phone in shock, watching the footage from the nanny cam app with growing horror. Selina is at my door spewing venom with a smile on her perfect face.


    I''d installed the security system after Miles got lost, wanting both him and Iris to feel safe, wanting to be able to check on them when I was away. I never imagined I''d be witnessing this.


    "Aw. He didn''t tell you, did he?" Selina pulls a folded document out of her purse, and my blood runs cold before she even hands it to Iris.


    The DNA results.


    The test confirming that Miles is a wolf and not a human.


    For weeks, I''ve been keeping it from Iris, waiting for the right time to tell her. I didn''t want her to know that I knew, not yet, not until I''m certain I can convince her that I don''t intend to take him from her as my Alpha Heir. I wanted to build trust first, make sure she knows that I have no bad intentions.


    But after tonight, our trust is at an all-time low. I betrayed Iris by not telling her about the final event with Selina, because I was too damn busy being jealous and angry over her and Hunter-a situation that I now realize waspletely misread by me. Ezra already told me about the conversation he overheard between her and Hunter, about her rejecting his kiss. From my point of view, I thought...


    But I was wrong. I misunderstood the friendship between them, just as Hunter apparently misread it. And thanks to myck ofmunication, thanks to my stewing in anger and distance from her, Iris now thinks that I never intended to leave Selina.


    I need to get home.


    Now.


    I rush out of the office, ignoring the calls from my staff. After the incident at the event, Selina stormed out to presumably go home-a lie, I now realize-and I went to my office to handle the paperwork regarding the contract termination before Selina could retaliate. The rain has stopped by now, but the streets are still wet,


    reflecting the city lights. I slide into the back of my car and instruct the driver to take me home as quickly as possible.


    By the time we pull up to the apartment building, I''m nearly frantic. I take the stairs two at a time, not waiting for the elevator, running down the hallway to our door.


    I fumble with my keys, hands shaking, and push the door open. I nearly fall on my face as I bolt up the stairs, but don''t stop. "Iris!" I shout. "Iris, don''t listen to-"


    My words cut short when I round the corner to the studio. Iris is already packing a bag

 Chapter 130

    Iris


    I''ve just begun packing a bag of art supplies when Arthur suddenly bursts into the room. His hair is disheveled, his suit jacket missing, tie askew. For a split second, my heart betrays me with a familiar flutter before I crush the feeling down.


    "Iris, stop. Please." He steps toward me, hands outstretched. "Whatever Selina told you-"


    "Is it true?" I ask coldly. I continue tucking my paints into my bag. "Is Miles an Alpha wolf?"


    Arthur freezes. The silence between us turns thick and heavy, confirming what I already know.


    "Yes," he finally says. "But I can exin-"


    "How long have you known?" I zip the bag and turn to face him.


    "A few weeks. I was going to tell you, I swear. I was just waiting for the right time."


    Iugh, but there''s no humor in it. "The right time? Like when, Arthur? After you''d secured your custody rights to your Alpha Heir?" The words taste bitter on my tongue.


    "That''s not-" He runs his hands through his hair, a gesture so familiar it aches. "I was going to tell you tonight. After the exhibition. I had it all nned out."


    "The exhibition? You mean the one where your fiancee was hanging on your arm? Where you were discussing your pregnancy use with her? That exhibition?"


    "I didn''t know that the event had anything to do with you."


    "Bullshit."


    "It''s true," he says. "Selina... She threatened to leak yours and Miles'' identities to the press if I didn''t attend onest event with her."


    My heart stutters. "You could have told me," I bite out.


    "I wanted to," Arthur replies. "But..." He looks away, his jaw ticking. "I was angry. Jealous. I thought you and Hunter..." He hesitates, then shakes his head, as if deciding it''s not worth it. Which it isn''t. "After you left, I went back inside and told everyone the engagement was terminated. I humiliated her." His eyes search mine. "I did it for us, Iris. For you."


    For a moment, hope flickers in my chest, but then Selina''s words echo in my mind. Why wouldn''t he tell me about Miles? About his true nature?


    "No." I shake my head, moving to brush past him. "You did it for yourself. For your Alpha Heir."


    Arthur''s expression crumples, but he steps in the way so I can''t leave the studio. "That''s not true. I love you, Iris. I''ve always loved you."


    "Then why hide Miles'' test results from me? Why keep me in the dark about my own son?" My voice breaks on thest word.


    "I was afraid." He takes another step toward me. "I was afraid you''d think exactly what you''re thinking now- that I only wanted Miles because he''s an Alpha. That I''d try to take him from you."


    "And wouldn''t you?" I challenge, turning to face him fully "Isn''t that exactly what you nned, from the beginning? Why else would you force me to stay in Ordan?"

 Chapter 131

    "As if it wasn''t bad enough that you thought I was a gold digger," I say, shaking my head. "Did you think that from the beginning? When we were first dating, did you think I was just with you for your money?"


    Arthur''s silence is damning.


    "Answer me!" I demand, my voice rising.


    "I... thought you were happy to have a man who could provide for you," he admits quietly. "Someone who could take you away from waiting tables at that diner."


    My stomach twists painfully. It''s even worse than I thought "So from the very beginning, you thought I was just thrilled to have a rich Alpha boyfriend? Someone who could pay for everything so I''d never have to work again?"


    "I didn''t mind paying for everything," Arthur says, as if that makes it better. "I wanted to take care of you."


    "I never asked you to take care of me! I just wanted to be with you because I loved you. Not because of what you could give me."


    "I know that now," he insists, stepping closer. "I''ve changed, Iris. I understand now that-"


    "That what? That I''m not just using you for your money? Wow, thank you so much for finally realizing that I''m not a maniptive gold digger after all! Now, I''m just your broodmare who happened to have your Alpha Heir."


    "That''s not true."


    "Then what is true? Because I don''t even know anymore, Arthur. I don''t know what the truth is, because you''ve done nothing but fucking lie to me over and over again!" My hands are shaking with fury as I speak, spittle flying from my mouth. In a sudden burst of rage and hurt, I grab the nearest thing-a small ceramic figurine from the hallway table-and hurl it across the hallway.


    It shatters against the wall with a satisfying crash, fragments scattering across the hardwood floor. Arthur stiffens. But he''s not looking at me.


    A small cryes from the doorway, and I whirl around to see Miles standing there in his pajamas.


    "Miles," I start, immediately regretting my outburst. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to scare you."


    But Miles doesn''te to me. Instead, he runs past me and straight to Arthur, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Daddy!" he cries, burying his face against Arthur''s thigh. Are you fighting?"


    My heart shatters, just like the figurine. It shatters tenfold when Arthur kneels down, gathering Miles into his arms. "Everything''s okay, buddy. We''re just having a grown-up talk."


    "It''s too loud," Miles sniffles, clinging to Arthur''s shirt. "Don''t be mad.¡±


    I watch them together, father and son, and something inside of me breaks anew. Miles is looking at Arthur withplete trust, with love. And Arthur''s face, as he soothes our child, is full of such genuine tenderness that it makes me question everything.


    This is what I wanted, isn''t it? For Miles to have his father? For Arthur to love our son?


    But at what cost?


    Arthur nces up at me again and mouths the words: "Don''t go."


    I swallow hard. "We''re not going to a hotel tonight," I say quietly, the fight draining out of me. "It would only upset Miles more."


    "Thank you, Iris."


    1 turn away from them both, unable to bear the sight. "I''m staying for Miles, not for you."


    With that, I turn, crouching to pick up the pieces of the figurine. Arthur goes to tuck Miles back in, and I nearly need to plug my ears to drown out the sound of him speaking so tenderly to our son. The tears I''ve been fightinge now, tracking down my cheeks and dripping onto the shattered porcin.


    Everything I thought I knew about Arthur, about us, seems like a lie. He never respected me, never saw me as an equal. He thought I was with him for his money. And now, he''s keeping secrets about my own son from me.


    I can''t do this anymore. I can''t live in this limbo, never knowing what''s true and what''s a lie.


    I reach for my phone and open my email. Thewyer''s contact information is in


    the letter. I''ll email him tonight, set up a meeting as soon as possible.


    I need to protect myself. I need to protect Miles.


    I need to find a way out.


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 Chapter 132

    I''m staring at my phone in disbelief, reading the email for the third time to make sure I''m not hallucinating


    "We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the Abbott Gallery residency. Your work demonstrated exceptional promise and artistic vision..."


    My fingers tremble as I scroll through the details. A months-long residency. A stipend that would cover all of my basic expenses and then some. A fully furnished apartment on the premises where I can live and work.


    It''s everything I''ve been working toward these past weeks. It''s a step forward in my career, a chance for yet another fresh start, a way out of Arthur''s apartment.


    And it couldn''t havee at a worse time.


    I set the phone down on the kitchen counter and close my eyes, trying to think. Afterst night''s explosive argument with Arthur, the residency would be the perfect escape. A legitimate reason to leave this apartment without it seeming like I''m running away.


    But Miles...


    He''s currently upstairs with Arthur, who took the day off to spend time with him. I can hear their muffledughter filtering down from the guest bedroom, where they''re building something with blocks.


    The sound should bring a smile to my face, but it just makes my stomach twist. Despite everything-despite Arthur''s lies and maniptions-Miles adores his father. Leaving now would devastate him.


    I need to think. I need to sleep on this before making any rash decisions.


    Later that afternoon, I hear back from thew firm. They ask me toe in for a consultation, so I head out under the guise of picking up lunch and arrive at the familiar office. It''s strange,ing back after they initially told me they couldn''t help me, but I''ll take whatever help I can get now.


    Thewyer invites me into his office. I sit, cing my purse at my feet. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."


    "Of course." He opens a leather-bound notebook. "Now, I''ve been going over your details, and I won''t sugarcoat this. Alpha Heir custody cases are notoriously difficult for human parents." He adjusts his sses. "The courts tend to favor the Alpha parent, especially when the child is a confirmed Alpha."


    My stomach tightens. "So I don''t have a chance? But I thought you said you could help me."


    "I can. Alpha Arthur may be powerful, but he''s not invincible. The fact that he used an uwful arrest and twisted your contract to keep you from leaving Ordan could work in our favor. And if we can prove that he deliberately misled you, or that he''s an unfit parent in other ways..."


    "He''s not unfit," I admit reluctantly. "Whatever else he may be, he loves Miles."


    Thewyer nods. "Admirable honesty. But love isn''t the only factor here. We could argue that he''s maniptive, that he uses his wealth and status to control you."


    Over the next half hour, we go over the details of the case. The legal jargon is dizzying, but I try my best to keep up, providing information wherever I can. By the end, thewyer informs me that he''ll reach out to Arthur soon for our first meeting. The thought makes me feel sick, but I know it''s necessary. Anything to keep him from taking Miles away.


    "Now, Iris," thewyer finally says, closing his notebook, I strongly rmend creating physical distance


    between yourself and Alpha Arthur during this process. Cases like this can be... vtile. Tensions rise. You mentioned an argumentst night that your son witnessed?


    I wince, remembering Miles'' frightened face when he saw the throw that figurine. "Yes."


    "Children shouldn''t be exposed to that kind of conflict. For Miles'' sake, separate living arrangements might be best."


    I nod slowly, letting his words sink in. For Miles'' sake. That''s what matters most here-what''s best for my son.


    "I''ll need to think about it," I say, gathering my purse. "But I''ll let you know my decision soon."


    Thewyer stands. "Whatever you decide, I''m prepared to Help you fight for your son."


    Back at the apartment, I sit on my bed, staring at the eptance email again. The residency starts in two weeks. If I ept, I could move in as early as this weekend.


    The sound of Miles''ughter floats in from the living room, where he''s watching a movie with Arthur. I think about how quickly he''s settled into this ce, how he calls it ''our home'' with such pride. How his eyes light up when Arthur walks through the door each evening.


    But I also remember his tear-streaked face when he found us fightingst night. The way he trembled as he clung to Arthur''s legs.


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 Chapter 133

    Is staying here, continuing this toxic dance with Arthur, really what''s best for


    Miles? Or am I just afraid of hurting him in the short term, even if leaving would be better for him in the long run?


    Biting my lip, I pull out my phone and send a text to Alice: Can youe with me to look at an apartment tomorrow? Got the Abbott residency."


    Her response is immediate: "OMG CONGRATS!!! Yes, of course. What time?"


    I set a time to meet, then lie back on the bed, my decision made. It will hurt- Goddess, it will hurt Miles to leave this ce he''s just begun to think of as home, to uproot him yet again. But thewyer is right. Children shouldn''t be exposed to this.


    For Miles'' sake, we need to go. We''ll rebuild, just as we did before. We''ll have peace again, even if it''s painful at


    first.


    The following morning, I meet up with Alice at the Abbott Gallery. The leasing agent takes us through the apartment, and I have to admit, it''s stunning.


    High ceilings with exposed beams. Tall windows that flood the space with natural light. A spacious main room that could serve as both a living area and studio. A small but modern kitchen. A separate bedroom with enough space for both Miles and me, at least for now.


    The leasing agent smiles proudly as she shows us around. "The stipend is modest, but it covers utilities and basic expenses with a little extra for misceneous expenditures. You''d be expected to work on-site at least thirty hours a week, but the schedule is flexible."


    "And my son?" I ask. "Would he be allowed to stay here with me?"


    "Of course. We''ve had resident artists with children before. There''s a yground two blocks away, and a good elementary school within walking distance."


    I wander to one of the windows, looking down at the busy street below. It''s in apletely different part of the city from Arthur''s apartment-far enough that we wouldn''t run into him identally, but close enough that Miles could still see his father regrly. If ites to that.


    "What do you think?" Alice asks, joining me at the window.


    "I think..." I take a deep breath. "I think it''s perfect." I turn to the agent. "Can I sign the lease today?"


    She beams. "Absolutely."


    An hourter, the paperwork ispleted. I''m officially the newest artist-in- residence at Abbott Gallery, with a move-in date three days from now.


    Now, I just need to tell Miles.


    "But I don''t want to go!" Miles shouts. "This is our home! With Daddy!"


    I kneel in front of him, keeping my voice calm despite the way my heart is breaking. "I know it feels that way, sweetie. But this is going to be good for us. You''ll understand when you''re older."


    "No!" He stomps his foot, tears streaming down his face." want to stay here!"


    I reach for him, but he jerks away from my touch. "Miles, please try to understand-


    "You''re just mad at Daddy!" he uses. "You''re being mean!"


    The words hit me like a p to the face. I swallow hard. "This isn''t about being mad at Daddy. This is about what''s best for both of us.¡±


    "You''re lying!" He backs away from me. "You promised we would stay! You promised!"


    I didn''t, actually. But in his mind, I had. In his mind, we were finally a family, the three of us together, a happily ever after. And now I''m shattering that dream. "Miles-"


    But he turns and runs, mming his bedroom door behind him. I rise slowly to my feet, feeling like the worst mother in the world. Is this really the right decision? Am I just being selfish, putting my career before my son''s happiness?


    For the rest of the evening, Miles refuses to speak to me. He won''te out for dinner. He won''t look at me when I bring a te to his room. He won''t even answer when I tell him I love him. He''s gonepletely nonverbal.


    The silent treatment continues until bedtime, when I tuck him in despite his stony silence. I kiss his forehead, whispering, "I love you so much, little wolf." For the first time, the nickname feels different on my tongue-now that I know the truth.


    He turns his face away and doesn''t answer.


    I''m doing the right thing, I remind myself for the thousandth time all day. For both


    of us. Even if it doesn''t feel that way right now.


    Once I''m sure Miles is asleep, I retrieve a suitcase from the closet and begin quietly packing.

 Chapter 134

    Arthur


    The email arrives while I''m getting ready for work.


    It''s from aw firm. Subject line: "Urgent Legal Matter: Your Presence Required."


    My first thought is Selina. Perhaps she''s trying to sue me for breach of contract or public humiliation after I ended our engagement at the exhibition, not that she has any grounds to do so. I scan the email quickly, noting the time and date for tomorrow. No details about the nature of the meeting, just a request for my "prompt attendance to discuss a pressing legal matter."


    I sigh, pocketing my phone. Whatever Selina is nning, I''ll handle it. Right now, I need to focus on repairing things with Iris.


    Since our fight three nights ago, the atmosphere in the apartment has been frigid. Iris barely speaks to me, only interacting when Miles is present. She''s been out most of today, saying something about meeting Alice for lunch.


    Meanwhile, I''ve been trying to figure out how to make her understand that I never meant to hurt her-that keeping Miles'' Alpha status from her wasn''t about control, but about fear.


    Fear of exactly what''s happening now: losing them both.


    Thew firm''s offices are in a modest building downtown. I arrive fifteen minutes earlyter that morning, dressed in my usual suit and tie. I don''t intend for this to be a long meeting. The receptionist leads me to a conference room with an oval table and...


    Iris.


    "Iris?" I stop in the doorway, looking between her and thewyer she''s sitting next to. "What are you doing here?"


    She doesn''t answer, just stares at me. The man beside her stands.


    "Alpha President," he says, extending his hand. "I''ll be representing Miss Iris in our legal proceedings. Thank you foring on such short notice."


    I shake his hand automatically, my eyes still on Iris. "What''s going on here?" I demand.


    Thewyer takes a seat next to Iris. "Please, sit down," he says, gesturing to my chair.


    I remain standing. "I asked what''s going on."


    Thewyer clears his throat. "Miss Iris has retained my services to represent her in a custody matter regarding your son, Miles."


    The words feel like a bullet to the chest. I sink slowly into my chair, unable to process what I''m hearing.


    "Custody?" I repeat, my gaze fixed on Iris. She still won''t look at me. "Iris, what is this?"


    "My client is seeking full legal and physical custody of Miles," thewyer continues as if I hadn''t spoken. "We''re prepared to file the necessary paperwork with the family court today."


    My mind races, trying to make sense of this sudden betrayal. Just days ago, Iris had promised we wouldn''t leave the apartment-that she was staying for Miles. And now this?


    "Iris," I try again. "Look at me. Please."


    Finally, she raises her eyes to meet mine. What I see there freezes my blood. There''s no warmth, no softness


    just a cold, steely resolve I''ve never witnessed before. She''s locked herself away from mepletely.


    "You promised," I whisper. "You said you weren''t leaving


    "I said I wasn''t going to a hotel that night," she corrects in a t voice. "I never promised to stay."


    Clearing his throat, thewyer shuffles some papers in front of him. "Now, given the... unusual circumstances of this case, we''re prepared to negotiate visitation rights that would allow you to maintain a rtionship with the child, while acknowledging my client as the primary custodial parent."


    "This is ridiculous," I snap. "Miles is my son."


    "A son you didn''t even know about for five years," thewyer counters smoothly. "A son whose mother you manipted and coerced into remaining in the country through dubious legal means."


    "That''s not what happened!"


    "Isn''t it?" Thewyer raises an eyebrow. "You arranged for my client to be arrested on false charges. You twisted the terms of her contract to trap her in Ordan. You concealed critical medical information about her child from her."


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 135

    Each usationnds like a punch to the gut because they contain just enough truth to be damning, I look to Iris again, desperate for her to understand,


    "Iris, we can work this out. We don''t needwyers. We can talk about this, just the two of us."


    She shakes her head slightly. "There''s nothing to talk about. You''ve made your intentions clear."


    "What intentions? I told you I love you!"


    "You also thought I was a gold digger," she replies coldly. "You kept Miles'' test results from me. You were going to use your power and influence to take him away.".


    "No, that''s not-"


    "Furthermore," thewyer interjects, "my client will be vacating your apartment effective immediately. She''s secured alternative housing that will provide a more stable environment for Miles during these proceedings.".


    My stomach drops. "What? Where? You can''t just take him!"


    "She can and she has," thewyer says. "My client has already signed a lease on a new apartment. She and Miles will be moving tomorrow."


    I feel like I''m drowning, struggling to keep my head above water as every word pulls me deeper. "Iris," I plead, ignoring thewyerpletely. "Don''t do this. Think about Miles. He''s happy in the apartment. He''s just getting settled. This will confuse him, hurt him."


    For a moment, something flickers in her eyes-pain, uncertainty, maybe even regret-but it''s quickly masked.


    "What will hurt him is growing up in a home filled with lies and maniption," she says quietly. "I''m doing what''s best for my


    son."


    "Our son," I correct forcefully. "He''s our son, Iris. And he needs both of us."


    She doesn''t answer that.


    The meeting continues for another twenty minutes, with thewyer outlining the legal process ahead. I barely hear him, my attention fixed solely on Iris, trying to understand how we got here. How the woman I love has transformed into this cold stranger who won''t even meet my eyes.


    When thewyer finally concludes the meeting, Iris stands immediately, gathering


    her purse.


    "We''ll be in touch regarding the initial court date," thewyer says, closing his folder. "My assistant will see you out."


    Iris moves toward the door without a backward nce.


    ¡°Iris, wait,¡± I call, rising from my chair. "Please. Just talk to me."


    She pauses, her hand on the doorknob, but doesn''t turn around. "There''s nothing left to say."


    Then she''s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.


    I stand there, feeling hollowed out, until thewyer clears his throat. "A word of advice, Alpha President. This doesn''t have to be a messy, public affair."


    I turn slowly to face him. "What do you mean?"


    He shrugs. "Cases like these... they can get ugly. Details emerge. Private matters be public record." He


    adjusts his cufflinks. "Your position as President could be at stake. The first human Luna in Ordan history? A half- breed Alpha Heir? The press would have a field day."


    My jaw tightens. "Is that a threat?"


    "No, of course not. It''s simply an observation." He stands, buttoning his suit jacket.


    I can tell it''s a cheap polyester material. "It would be easier for everyone if you


    simply let the human woman and your half-breed child go."


    "Easier for who?" I growl.


    "For everyone involved. There are plenty of beautiful werewolf women in the world, Mr. President. Let Iris and Miles


    1. go. Find yourself a proper Luna. Have a pure-blooded heir. Save yourself the scandal."


    My stomach twists. I feel like I''m going to vomit. With a sharp inhale, I rise abruptly, storming toward the door. "I don''t want anyone else,¡± I say over my shoulder. "I only want them."

 Chapter 136

    Iris


    I can''t believe I''m doing this.


    Suing Arthur for custody feels wrong. Cruel, even-not just to him, but to fnyself and Miles as well. Each day since I took thewyer''s offer, I feel as if I''ve made a grave mistake.


    And yet, at the same time, it feels like the only solution. The only way out from a situation that will just get worse with time.


    Arthur lied to me. He hid the truth about our son, hid the truth about Selina, about our love. He lies to his people, too-he keeps me, his true mate, hidden away in exchange for political power.


    Therefore, how can I trust him when he says he never intends to use the Alpha''s Heir right to take Miles from me? How do I know he''s being honest when he says he loves me and Miles, and that he just wants the family we built?


    I can''t. That''s the hardest part about all of this.


    I''m halfway to the car when Arthur''s footsteps pound behind me, right on cue. The sound alone makes my stomach twist, even though I knew he would try to talk to me in private. He was quiet and stoic throughout the entire meeting, but now-now that we''re alone, he thinks he can manipte me again.


    But it won''t work.


    "Iris, wait!"


    I don''t stop. I couldn''t even if I wanted to, because I fear that if I spend too long looking into those green eyes of his, those green irises that are so much like our son''s, that might not be as strong as I think I am.


    Picking up my pace, I tighten my grip on my purse and hurry down the street. Where''s a cab when I need one?


    Before I can get far, his hand catches my arm. "Iris, listen to-"


    I wrench away, spinning to em, and jab my finger at the center of his chest. "Don''t touch me."


    The hurt in his eyes almost-almost-makes me falter. But I''ve seen this performance before. The wounded look. The plea. The maniption dressed up as genuine emotion. I don''t believe any of it anymore. I can''t believe any of it. "Why?" he demands. "Why are you doing this? Just talk to me."


    Iugh, but there''s no humor in it. Just a sharp, broken sound that scrapes my throat raw. "Talk? You want to talk now? After everything you''ve done?"


    Arthur takes a step closer. He drops his voice to a velvety whisper-the very same voice that once spoke sweet nothings to me. "Please. Just exin to me what''s going on"


    For a moment, as his familiar and enticing scent washes over me, something inside of me begins to waver. The fight drains out of me far quicker than I was ready for, only to be immediately reced by a bone-deep exhaustion.


    "I can''t," I whisper. "I can''t tell you everything."


    "Try," he says. The word isn''t a request. It''s amand-the Alpha President emerging, used to getting his way. Even though I''m not a werewolf, it works on me, and I hate that it does.


    I square my shoulders and grit my teeth, making my jaw feather. "I''m afraid you''ll take Miles away from me.


    Arthur''s eyes sh. "You still think I''m going to take Miles? I would never-


    "Wouldn''t you?" My voice begins to rise. "You''ve lied to me about everything. His test results. Our rtionship. The contract that trapped me in Ordan, Selina. How many times have you manipted me, Arthur? How many times have you twisted the truth to get exactly what you want?"


    His face falls. "That''s not fair."


    "Fair?¡± I repeat. The word sounds foreign, almost ridiculous. "Nothing about this has ever been fair."


    The silence between us turns thick.


    "I love you," he finally bites out. "And I love Miles. I would never-"


    "Stop." I hold up my hand, hating the way it''s trembling slightly. "Just stop. I can''t hear another lie."


    Arthur blinks, his eyes flicking to my trembling fingers and then back to my eyes. "Iris..."


    Just then, I spot a cab. "Goodbye, Arthur," I say. Before he can answer or see me cry, I quickly turn and hail the cab, climbing in as fast as possible. Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 137

    Iris


    I can''t believe I''m doing this.


    Suing Arthur for custody feels wrong. Cruel, even-not just to him, but to fnyself and Miles as well. Each day since I took thewyer''s offer, I feel as if I''ve made a grave mistake.


    And yet, at the same time, it feels like the only solution. The only way out from a situation that will just get worse with time.


    Arthur lied to me. He hid the truth about our son, hid the truth about Selina, about our love. He lies to his people, too-he keeps me, his true mate, hidden away in exchange for political power.


    Therefore, how can I trust him when he says he never intends to use the Alpha''s Heir right to take Miles from me? How do I know he''s being honest when he says he loves me and Miles, and that he just wants the family we built?


    I can''t. That''s the hardest part about all of this.


    I''m halfway to the car when Arthur''s footsteps pound behind me, right on cue. The sound alone makes my stomach twist, even though I knew he would try to talk to me in private. He was quiet and stoic throughout the entire meeting, but now-now that we''re alone, he thinks he can manipte me again.


    But it won''t work.


    "Iris, wait!"


    I don''t stop. I couldn''t even if I wanted to, because I fear that if I spend too long looking into those green eyes of his, those green irises that are so much like our son''s, that might not be as strong as I think I am.


    Picking up my pace, I tighten my grip on my purse and hurry down the street. Where''s a cab when I need one?


    Before I can get far, his hand catches my arm. "Iris, listen to-"


    I wrench away, spinning to em, and jab my finger at the center of his chest. "Don''t touch me."


    The hurt in his eyes almost-almost-makes me falter. But I''ve seen this performance before. The wounded look. The plea. The maniption dressed up as genuine emotion. I don''t believe any of it anymore. I can''t believe any of it. "Why?" he demands. "Why are you doing this? Just talk to me."


    Iugh, but there''s no humor in it. Just a sharp, broken sound that scrapes my throat raw. "Talk? You want to talk now? After everything you''ve done?"


    Arthur takes a step closer. He drops his voice to a velvety whisper-the very same voice that once spoke sweet nothings to me. "Please. Just exin to me what''s going on"


    For a moment, as his familiar and enticing scent washes over me, something inside of me begins to waver. The fight drains out of me far quicker than I was ready for, only to be immediately reced by a bone-deep exhaustion.


    "I can''t," I whisper. "I can''t tell you everything."


    "Try," he says. The word isn''t a request. It''s amand-the Alpha President emerging, used to getting his way. Even though I''m not a werewolf, it works on me, and I hate that it does.


    I square my shoulders and grit my teeth, making my jaw feather. "I''m afraid you''ll take Miles away from me.


    Arthur''s eyes sh. "You still think I''m going to take Miles? I would never-


    "Wouldn''t you?" My voice begins to rise. "You''ve lied to me about everything. His test results. Our rtionship. The contract that trapped me in Ordan, Selina. How many times have you manipted me, Arthur? How many times have you twisted the truth to get exactly what you want?"


    His face falls. "That''s not fair."


    "Fair?¡± I repeat. The word sounds foreign, almost ridiculous. "Nothing about this has ever been fair."


    The silence between us turns thick.


    "I love you," he finally bites out. "And I love Miles. I would never-"


    "Stop." I hold up my hand, hating the way it''s trembling slightly. "Just stop. I can''t hear another lie."


    Arthur blinks, his eyes flicking to my trembling fingers and then back to my eyes. "Iris..."


    Just then, I spot a cab. "Goodbye, Arthur," I say. Before he can answer or see me cry, I quickly turn and hail the cab, climbing in as fast as possible. Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 138

    Arthur & Iris


    Arthur


    I check my watch for the third time in as many minutes as I sit in the conference room. The meeting was supposed to begin nearly twenty minutes ago, and Iris still isn''t here. Even herwyer arrived before she did.


    Maybe she''s decided against this, a tiny voice in the back of my head says. I try not to give myself false hope, but I can''t help it. Thest thing I ever wanted was this. I just wish she would listen to me.


    "You know, this can all go away if you just sign the papers, thewyer says, pushing the contract toward me- the one that would relinquish any and all custody of Miles forever.


    I grit my teeth, refusing to do it. No. I shouldn''t have to sign a paper to convince Iris that I''m not trying to steal our son. I want both of them. My family. Just then, my mind buzzes with an iing Mindlink from Ezra.


    "Alpha, there''s been an ident.''


    My blood runs cold, and I sit up straight. "What kind of ident?"


    "It''s Iris. She was in a cab on her way to the meeting. Another car ran a red light and T-boned them at the intersection of 5th and Maple."


    The world tilts beneath my feet. I don''t remember jumping up. I don''t remember rushing out of the building or speeding down the street in my car. The only thing I''m aware of is the pounding of my heart and the desperate prayer running through my mind: Please let her be okay. Please let her live.


    The hospital is even more mazelike than it should be. I bulldoze my way through, ignoring the startled nces from staff and patients alike. Nothing matters except finding Iris.


    Ezra is waiting for me outside the ICU.


    "Where is she?" I demand.


    "Alpha, you need to prepare yourself. She''s in critical condition."


    I push past him, but he grabs my arm. "Listen to me," he says firmly. "The doctors


    say she has internal bleeding and a traumatic head injury. They''re trying to


    stabilize her for surgery, but..." He hesitates.


    "But what?" I growl.


    "They''re not sure if she''ll survive it. Her blood pressure keeps dropping."


    The world narrows to a pinpoint of light, everything else fading away. I can''t


    breathe. I can''t think. Iris, my Iris, my light, my fate, might die.


    ¡°I need to see her,¡± I say, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.


    Ezra nods, releasing my arm. "I''ll take you to her,"


    We''re met by a doctor outside the trauma room. "Alpha President," she says, looking surprised. "I didn''t realize


    you were


    "How is she?" I cut her off.


    The doctor''s expression turns grave. "She sustained severe injuries in the crash. We''re doing everything we can, but her condition is critical."


    "What are her chances?" I ask, dreading the answer.


    "It''s touch and go. We''ve managed to slow the internal bleeding, but she''s lost a lot of blood already. Her body is going into shock." She nces at her chart. "Unfortunately we''re facing a shortage of her blood type in our blood bank."


    A wild, desperate hope seizes me. "What blood type does she need?"


    "She''s AB negative, which is extremely rare. We''ve put out a call to other hospitals, but-"


    "Take mine,¡± I interrupt. "I''m a universal donor."


    The doctor hesitates. "Alpha President, with all due respect werewolf blood is different from human blood. Thepatibility isn''t always-"


    "We''re fated mates," I blurt out. "My blood will help her."


    Her eyes widen, recognition dawning on her face. Right now, I don''t care if word gets out about Iris''s identity. Iris and I are bound. My blood will heal her in a way no other transfusion can. It''s a known fact that a mate''s blood can heal the other.


    "But she''s a human," the nurse points out.


    I clench my jaw. "I don''t care. We have to-try."


    Without further question, the nurse ushers me into Iris''s room. I catch my first glimpse of her then, and I feel like I''m going to be sick. She looks so small, so fragile. Her beautiful face is marred by cuts and bruises, and there''s a venttor tube snaking down her throat. The sound of the monitors beeping sounds like gunshots going off in my head.


    Goddess, I don''t even want to look at her. Bile rises up in my throat just at the thought of something happening to her, and I have to look away to keep myself from retching.


    The nurse slides the needle into my arm, and I watch as my blood begins to flow through the tube. Let it heal you, I think desperately. Let it bring you back to me. As the transfusion continues, Ezra steps closer to my side.


    "I''ve been looking into the ident," he says in a low voice. "Something doesn''t add up."


    I tear my gaze away from Iris. "What do you mean?"


    "The driver who hit her cab ran a red light at high speed, then fled the scene.


    Traffic cameras caught part of the license te, but it was covered with mud. Almost as if someone was trying to hide it."


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 139

    My blood runs cold. "Are you saying this wasn''t an ident?"


    Ezra''s expression hardens. "I''m saying it''s suspicious. Especially given the timing... with the custody battle just starting."


    A murderous rage begins to build up inside of me. "Find out who did this," I order, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Check every traffic camera, every witness statement. I want to know who was driving that car, and I want to know why they targeted Iris."


    With a nod, Ezra quickly leaves the room. I make a silent vow that if I find who did this and it wasn''t just a freak ident, I''ll kill them with my bare hands.


    Iris


    I''m floating in darkness for what feels like an eternity. Voicese and go, distant and muffled, as if I''m underwater. Sometimes I think I hear Miles calling for me, sometimes it''s Arthur''s voice. But I can''t reach them. I can''t find my way back.


    Then, slowly, I be aware of pain coursing through my body. My eyelids feel like they''re weighed down with concrete, but I struggle to open them anyway.


    The first thing I see is a blurry ceiling. Where am I? What happened?


    I try to speak, but my throat is raw, and all thates out is a hoarse croak.


    "Iris?"


    That voice. I know that voice.


    With tremendous effort, I turn my head toward the sound, and through the haze of pain and confusion, I see him.


    Arthur.


    He looks terrible. His usually perfect hair is disheveled, his clothes rumpled like he''s slept in them. There are dark circles under his eyes, and several days'' worth of stubble shadows his jaw. But his eyes-those familiar green eyes-light up when they meet mine.


    "You''re awake," he breathes, surging from his chair to my bedside. "Oh, thank the Goddess, you''re finally awake."


    I try to speak again, but my mouth is too dry. Arthur seems to understand,


    reaching for a cup of water with a straw and holding it to my lips. The cool liquid is a blessed relief on my parched throat


    "What happened?" I manage to ask. It hurts just to say the words.


    "There was an ident," Arthur says, setting the cup aside. "Your cab was hit at an intersection. You''ve been unconscious for days."


    Days? My mind reels, trying to process this information. I remember getting into the cab, heading to thewyer''s office, and then... nothing.


    "Miles," I gasp. "Where''s Miles?"


    ¡°He''s safe,¡± Arthur assures me quickly. "He''s with Brian at your apartment. I''ve been checking on him every day."


    I try to sit up, but a sharp painnces through my ribs and head, forcing me back down.


    "Don''t try to move," Arthur says, cing his hand gently on my shoulder. "You have three broken ribs, a concussion, and you needed surgery for internal bleeding


    The description of my injuries makes me dizzy. I close my eyes, but it doesn''t make the pain go away.


    "How am I alive?"


    Arthur''s hand finds mine on the hospital nket. "You almost weren''t," he admits. "You lost a lot of blood. The doctors..." He swallows hard. "They weren''t sure you''d make it."


    I open my eyes again, looking at him properly for the first time. The anguish on his face is unlike anything I''ve ever seen. "Then how...?"


    "I gave you my blood," he says simply. "As your fated mate my blood has healing properties for you. Even though you''re human, the bond between us somehow... it helped save you, even though you don''t have a wolf."


    His blood.-Inside me now. The thought makes something warm and tender flutter my chest, but I''m also confused, because blood transfusions between mates should only work if both are werewolves. It''s not known to work on humans. Maybe I just got lucky.


    "You stayed," I observe, noting the makeshift bed of nkets on the small couch by the window.


    "I haven''t left since they brought you in," he says with a nod. "I couldn''t."


    A nurse enters then, breaking the moment. She brightens when she sees I''m awake, hurrying over to check my vitals and ask questions that I struggle to answer through the fog.


    When she leaves, promising to return with the doctor, an awkward silence falls between Arthur and me.


    "I should call Brian," he finally says. "Let him know you''re awake. Miles has been so worried."


    At the mention of our son, tears spring to my eyes. "How is he?"


    Arthur''s expression softens. "He misses you. He''s been asking about you


    constantly." A small smile tugs at his lips. "He made you a get-well card. It''s right there." He points to a colorful piece of construction paper propped on the nightstand, covered in crayon scribbles and what looks like an attempt at a drawing of me.


    The sight of it breaks something in me.


    He''s been by my side. Checking on Miles. Giving me his blood. Running himself ragged for fear of losing me. Even though I''ve been giving him the cold shoulder and fighting him in this legal battle, he''s been so... selfless.


    The wall of ice I''ve built around my heart forms a tiny crack Chapter 140


    *

 Chapter 140

    Six days after the ident, I''m packing my small bag of personal items to leave the hospital. The doctors are still shaking their heads, calling my recovery "unprecedented" and "medically inexplicable."


    ording to them, my injuries should have kept me bedridden for weeks, maybe even months. The internal bleeding should have required multiple surgeries. The broken ribs should still be causing excruciating pain.


    But instead, I''m up and walking around with just a slight limp and some tenderness in my chest when I breathe too deeply.


    "I''ve hever seen anything like it," the doctor says as she signs my discharge papers. She checks mytest scans, still looking puzzled. "Especially for a human. Your body is healing at almost the rate of a werewolf." She frowns and shakes her head. "It must have something to do with the Alpha President''s blood transfusion. He must have extremely potent healing capabilities in his blood."


    "Whatever the reason," she continues, "you''re well enough to go home. Just take it easy for the next few weeks."


    Brian meets me in the lobby with a wheelchair. I make a face at him.


    "Is that really necessary? I can walk."


    "Hospital rules," he says with a shrug, then leans down to kiss my cheek. "Besides, you still look like shit."


    I snort, settling into the chair. "Thanks a lot."


    "Did I say shit? I meant absolutely radiant, darling."


    Despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips. Trust Brian to lighten the mood. He and Liam have been a godsend these past days, but I suppose they always have been.


    And then there''s been Arthur.


    I still don''t know what to think. He stayed by my side in the hospital, barely leaving to shower or eat. He gave me his blood, possibly saving my life. He had to leave today for work matters that he simply couldn''t miss, but he never let me out of his sight for days.


    It was... sweet.


    When we pull up to the apartment, my heart leaps into my throat. I can''t wait to see Miles. I practically bolt from the car the moment Brian parks, ignoring the twinge of pain in my side. He follows more slowly, carrying my bag and shaking his head at my impatience.


    The elevator ride up to our floor feels eternal. When the doors finally open, I almost run down the hallway, fumbling with my keys. The door swings open, and I see Miles and Liam sitting in the living room. Miles is coloring on the floor, and Liam is-


    "Mommy!" Miles shrieks, scrambling to his feet and racing toward me.


    I drop to my knees, ignoring the sharp pain in my ribs, and open my arms wide. He crashes into me like a hurricane, and I inhale his familiar scent.


    "Little wolf," I murmur into his hair. "I missed you so much."


    "I made you pictures," he says, and the sound of his voice finally speaking to me after everything, and it''s sweeter than I remember-almost shatters my heart from making it so full. But then he pulls back and points. "Thedy said I should color even more."


    I furrow my brow, looking up, and that''s when I see her. The woman who''s just rounded the living room corner- the woman who Liam was talking to when we entered, and the reason behind his puzzled expression.


    "Iris, I-" Liam begins, but she cuts him off.


    "You must be Iris," she says, pulling a notepad out of her pocket. "I''m from Child Protective Services."


    My blood turns to ice in my veins. CPS? Here? Now?


    I stand slowly, keeping Miles close to my side. "What''s going on?"


    She consults her notepad. "We received aint that your child may be in an unsafe living environment. I''m here to conduct an assessment."


    "Aint?" My voice rises slightly, and I nce at Brian, who looks just as baffled as I do. It seems she arrived while he was picking me up from the hospital. "From whom?"


    "I''m not at liberty to say." Her gaze moves pointedly to Miles. "Perhaps we could speak privately?"


    I look down at Miles, who''s watching the stranger warily. "Miles, sweetheart, why don''t you go color while I talk to the nicedy?"


    Liam and Brian immediately jump into action. "Come on, buddy," Liam says. "Let''s put all your artwork on Mom''s bed so she can see it when sheys down for a rest.''


    Once they''re out of earshot, I turn back to the CPS agent. "What''s all this about?"


    The woman pushes her sses up on her nose. "Theint specifically mentioned that you left your child with a non-rtive when his biological father was avable and willing to care for him. In custody disputes, this kind of decision can be viewed as parental alienation."

 Chapter 141

    Custody disputes. So this is about Arthur after all. My heart sinks, a cold feeling of betrayal washing over me. Was the hospital all Just for show? All that concern, all that devotion-was it just another maniption tactic?


    "May I see the rest of the apartment?" the CPS agent asks, although it''s clearly not a request but rather an announcement.


    I nod stiffly, leading her through the small apartment. She makes notes as we go. Shements on the size of Miles'' bedroom,


    which is admittedly tinypared to his room at Arthur''s ce. She notes the fact that we''re still not fully unpacked, boxes


    stacked in corners. She points out the dust on the shelves, the sink full of unwashed dishes.


    "Do you clean regrly?" she asks, running a finger along a windowsill.


    "I''ve been in the hospital," I remind her. "For a week. After a near-fatal car ident."


    She makes another note. "And before that?"


    **Before that, we had just moved in. I was still getting


    settled."


    "And from my records..." She scans her notepad. "You''ve moved into three different homes in the past three months, including rendering yourself and your


    son homeless at one point in an attempt to return to Bo''Arrocan."


    I swallow hard, my throat suddenly feeling sore. "There were... extenuating circumstances," I say. She doesn''t answer, of course;


    just adds it to her notes.


    The tour continues, with the woman finding fault with nearly everything she sees. Theck of childproofing on lower cabs.


    The medication on my nightstand, within Miles'' reach. The art supplies in my studio that a child could ess.


    By the time we return to the living room, I''m shaking-partly from exhaustion, partly from anger. Brian, Liam, and Miles are


    there, Miles proudly showing off a crayon drawing of what appears to be the three of us: him, me, and Arthur.


    The woman crouches down to his level. "Miles, can I ask you some questions?"


    He looks at me uncertainly. I nod, hoping my face doesn''t betray my fear.


    "Are you happy living here with your mom?" she asks.


    Miles nods.


    "Do you miss your dad?"


    He nods again.


    The woman''s eyebrows rise slightly as she picks up the drawing. "You do?"


    Yes."


    My heart cracks a little at his tiny voice. He''s frightened, and mming up. After everything, thest thing I want is for him to


    feel ufortable again.


    +20 Bonus


    Just as I''m about to move toward Miles, the woman straightens up, turning to me. "I have some concerns about the living


    situation here. The apartment is small, clearly not fully childproofed. There are potential hazards with your art supplies."


    holds up the drawing. "And Miles clearly wants to be with both parents."


    "I''m an artist," I say. "The Abbott Gallery residency is a huge opportunity for me. This apartmentes with the position. It''s temporary, until I can find something better."


    "And in the meantime, your child lives in inadequate conditions while his father has a perfectly suitable home avable."


    "Please," I say, my voice breaking as Brian and Liam move to my side. "I just got out of the hospital. I haven''t had time to


    properly set up the apartment yet."


    "Miles has been very happy with us," Brian says. "He''s basically-"


    She holds her hand up, silencing him. "I understand that, but my concern is for


    the child''s welfare. The boy can hardly even


    speak, he''s so traumatized."


    "He''s on the spec-"


    "Given what I''ve observed today, I''m going to have to rmend hees with me for the night."


    My mouth drops open. She can''t take my son. She wouldn''t dare-


    Just then, the door bursts open. Arthur strides in like a thunderstorm, his


    presence filling the small apartment instantly. His eyes


    find mine first, then move to Miles, who lights up at the sight of him.


    "Daddy!" Miles cries, running to Arthur.


    Arthur scoops him up with one arm, striding over to stand beside me. To my surprise, he slides his other arm around my waist, pulling me gently against his side. The move is possessive, protective, and despite everything, I find myself leaning into him slightly even though I''m possibly more confused than I''ve ever been.


    His eyes fix on the CPS agent. "What are you doing to my family?"

 Chapter 142

    Iris


    The CPS agent looks between Arthur and me, clearly taken aback by his sudden appearance. Then, after a few moments of confusion, her eyes widen slightly when she registers exactly who he is. I almost want tough out loud at the recognition that crosses her face-the Alpha President of Ordan standing in my tiny apartment, his arm around me and Miles tucked against his


    chest.


    I hope this doesn''t make it to the news. Although I''m not holding my breath at this point.


    "Alpha President," she stammers. "I-I wasn''t aware that you... That is to say, I''m just doing a standard evaluation after receiving aint about-"


    "About my family," Arthur says, his voice cool and even as he tightens his hold on both Miles and me. "Who made this


    She hesitates, clutching her notepad to her chest. ¡°I''m afraid that information is confidential."


    "Not to me," Arthur says, and the authority in his tone makes even my spine straighten. "I want to see theint. Now."


    Liam and Brian exchange a look, both clearly as confused as I am by this turn of events. Wasn''t Arthur the one who filed the


    After a moment of hesitation before she seems to realize that she can''t exactly say no to the Alpha President, the agent reluctantly opens her folder and hands over a form. Arthur scans it, his jaw tightening as he reads.


    "This is ridiculous," he says, handing it back. "Thisint was filed anonymously. There''s no credible evidence of neglect or endangerinent here."


    "Nevertheless, I''m required to investigate allints," she replies, regaining some of herposure. "And there are several


    concerning issues with this living arrangement that-


    "My son''s mother was just released from the hospital after a near-fatal car ident," Arthur cuts her off. "Of course the


    apartment isn''t in perfect order yet. That doesn''t constitute neglect." He gestures to Brian and Liam. "And this lovely couple is highly trusted by both of us. No one else is better off watching Miles. Isn''t that right, buddy?"


    Miles nods. "I love all my daddies."


    The agent''s face twists with obvious disgust as she adjusts her sses. "Well then... regardless, there are still other factors to consider. The size of the living space, the potential hazards


    "All of which can be addressed," Arthur says. "Iris is an exceptional mother. Miles is well-cared for, happy, and loved."


    I can''t help but stare at him. Is this really happening? Is Arthur actually defending me?


    "Alpha President, with all due respect," the agent tries again, "in cases of parental separation, it''s standard procedure to ensure


    Chopbat


    that the child''s living situation with both parents is-


    +20 Bonus


    "Miles is perfectly safe here with his mother. I''ll be contacting your supervisor personally in the morning. You may go now.


    The agent looks like she wants to argue further, but even she isn''t willing to challenge the Alpha President. With a stiff nod, she


    gathers her things and heads for the door. After she leaves, a heavy silence falls over the apartment. Arthur sets Miles down gently, crouching to his level.


    "Hey, buddy, why don''t you go show Liam and Brian your new room? I need to talk to Mommy for a minute.


    Miles looks between us, clearly uncertain. "But I already showed them."


    an


    "I bet you didn''t sh


    show them your new shark stuffie," I say, and that manages to get him to leave.


    Brian and Liam shoot me one


    Once we''re alone, I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the pain that


    still res through my body with certain


    movements.


    "You didn''t file theint," I say.


    SURPERISE GIFT: 3850 bonus free for you,activity time is limited!

 Chapter 143

    "Of course not," Arthur says, looking genuinely hurt by the suggestion. ¡°Iris, I


    would never do that to you. Or to Miles."


    I sink onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. "Then who did?"


    "I don''t know. But I intend to find out." He sits beside me, careful to maintain some distance. "How are you feeling? Should yout


    even be out of the hospital?"


    "I''m fine," I say automatically. "The doctors were... surprised by how quickly I healed."


    Arthur blinks, clearly just as surprised as the doctors. And me, for that matter.


    h the CPS agent.


    "Thank you," I say after a moment. "For what you did. At the hospital, and just now with


    "You don''t need to thank me. I''ll always protect you and Miles." He runs a hand through his hair. "Iris, about the custody case


    "I''m not dropping it," I say quickly, steeling myself against the softening I feel toward him. "What happened at the hospital,


    what happened just now-it doesn''t change anything."


    Arthur sighs. "Can we just talk about this?"


    I shake my head. I made my point thest time we spoke about this, the day we talked in the parking lot after the meeting. And despite everything, I need to be certain. Need to be sure that no one can take Miles from me.


    "Fine. Then let''s not talk tonight," Arthur says, surprising me. "Let me make dinner for you both."


    I blink at him. "Dinner? Again?"


    "You shouldn''t be cooking in your condition anyway," he points out. "Let me help. I can meal prep for the week so you don''t have


    to worry about it."


    The offer is tempting, I have to admit. The thought of cooking for myself and Miles when every movement still causes some


    difort isn''t appealing. But having Arthur here, in my space, ying house again... it feels dangerous.


    "I don''t think that''s a good idea," I say softly.


    "Please, Iris," Arthur says. "One meal. For Miles. He misses us being together."


    As if on cue, Miles peeks around the corner. "Daddy''s staying for dinner?"


    Arthur looks at me, waiting for my answer. I sigh, already knowing I''m going to give in. Not for Arthur, I tell myself. For Miles.


    "Yes, Daddy''s staying for dinner," I say, and the joy that lights up my son''s face almost makes the inevitable heartache worth it.


    I watch as Arthur leads Miles to the kitchen, already talking about what they might prepare together. Brian and Liam stop in the doorway, staring at me in shock. I just throw my hands up in silent resignation, shrug, and then lean my head back against the


    pillows and let myself rest for a few minutes,


    +20 Bonus


    When dinner is finally ready, Arthur sets the table while Miles proudly carries over a basket of garlic bread. Once again, they''ve prepared a mouthwatering meal with enough food to feed a small vige for a week. At this point, I''m not sure if Miles is going to grow up to be an artist or a chef.


    But just as we''re sitting down for dinner, Arthur''s face shifts. He narrows his eyes and presses one finger to his temple. I can tell he''s receiving a Mindlink. From Ezra?


    Then, suddenly, he stands again before the rest of us have even begun to eat.


    "I have to go," he says abruptly, already reaching for his jacket.


    I stare up at him, stunned. Even Miles drops his fork "What''s happened?" I ask, feeling a pang of disappointment shoot through


    1. me.


    "Just... business." He doesn''t meet my eyes as he says it, which tells me he''s lying. Even after all this time, I can always tell. "I''ll call you tomorrow."


    Without another word, without even saying goodbye to Miles, Arthur strides to the door and leaves.

 Chapter 144

    Arthur


    I bolt out of Iris''s apartment, barely remembering to close the door behind me. The Mindlink from Ezra still rings through my


    head.


    "Alpha, we found the car. It''s a Lotus Eletre. Only three in all of Ordan...¡±


    "Selina," I mutter under my breath as I m my car door shut and turn the ignition. The engine roars to life.


    Her family loves those fucking cars.


    I always knew Selina was ambitious. But this? Attempting to murder Iris? Sending CPS to take Miles away? This crosses a line I


    didn''t think even she would breach.


    By the time I reach her home, an expensive modern mansion overlooking the city, my wolf is demanding vengeance. I pound on


    her door.


    "Selina! Open up!"


    A momentter, the door swings open to reveal Selina. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of me, but she recovers quickly.


    "Arthur, darling, what a pleasant surprise,"


    I push past her. ¡°What did you do, Selina?"


    "What?"


    "Your silver Lotus. Are you really dumb enough to think that I wouldn''t recognize it, or did you hope I would?"


    A flicker of something crosses her face before she quickly masks it. "I have no clue what you''re talking about, Arthur. The Lotus is


    being serviced. The alignment was off."


    "Bullshit. A silver Lotus was caught on camera hitting Iris''s cab. The same day she almost fucking died."


    Selina doesn''t flinch. Doesn''t even blink. "Huh. What a strange coincidence."


    "Is it?" I can feel my control slipping. My wolf wants to shred into her throat. Right now, so do I. ¡°Just like it''s a coincidence that CPS showed up at Iris''s door today? After an anonymousint?"


    Her red lips curl. "Oh, did they? How unfortunate for her."


    The casual admission hits me like a punch to the gut. I knew it, but hearing her practically confess it with a fucking smile on her


    face sends a new wave of rage through me.


    "So it was you," I snarl. "You tried to kill her. And when that didn''t work, you tried to take Miles away."


    Selina walks past me to pour herself a drink at the bar in her dining room, her movements graceful and unhurried. She pours gin.


    +20 Bonus


    into a ss, then plops a slice of lime in. "I wa


    just trying to do what''s right, since you clearly won''t do it."


    My blood runs cold. "So you admit it? Just like that?"


    "Why deny it?" She takes a sip of her drink. "We both know what''s at stake here, Arthur. Your presidency. Your legacy. Our


    future."


    ¡°There is no ¡®our future," I snap. "I ended our engagement. Rather publicly, if you might recall."


    "A temporary setback," she says with a wave of her hand. "You''lle to your senses eventually. Especially once that human


    and her damaged spawn are out of the picture."


    I freeze. "What did you just call my son?"


    Selina''s smile turns vicious. "Oh, don''t act so surprised. I''ve seen his medical records. Developmental dys. Possible autism


    spectrum disorder. Learning disabilities." She shrugs. "All typical in hybrid children, apparently. The human DNA corrupts our


    superior werewolf gics."


    My wolf howls with fury, and I feel my eyes sh gold. "Miles is a wolf. And even with his disabilities, he''s no less important to


    me or Iris."


    "Wolf or not, he''s still half-human! A mongrel! He''ll never be a proper Alpha heir. Is that what you want for your legacy? A weak, defective child who can barely string two sentences together?"


    I lunge forward, grabbing her wrist hard enough to make her drop her ss. Neither of us looks down as it shatters on the floor. I


    Imow she wouldn''t care, anyway-she''d just order a servant to clean it up for her. "Don''t you dare speak about my son that way."


    Selina doesn''t even flinch. "It''s the truth, Arthur. Iris ruined him with her inferior genes. But I can give you strong, pure-blooded


    children. True Alpha heirs worthy of your line."


    "You''re sick. You need help." I release her wrist and take a step back.


    "I''m only trying to save you from yourself," she replies. "Think about what you''re throwing away, Arthur. All for what? Some human you fucked five years ago? A defective half-breed child?"


    My control snaps. ¡°That ''human'' is my mate! That ''half-breed'' is my son! And you tried to kill her and have him taken away!"


    Selina seemspletely unbothered. "Miles would be better off in a specialized facility anyway, with his.... challenges. And Iris


    is... well, she''s going to die much sooner than you anyway. Everyone knows humans have shorter lifespans than we do."


    I can hardly believe what I''m hearing. The cold calction in her voice, the utter


    wife. Maybe only in a contractual sense, but still. It makes me sick.


    "You''re insane," I breathe.

 Chapter 145

    Sheughs. "I''m practical. I''m thinking of your future-our future. A proper Luna by your side. Strong, pureblooded children.


    carrying on your legacy. The respect of the entire country of Ordan. The entire world."


    "And all it would cost is the lives of my true mate a


    and firstborn son. Did you really think I would choose you over them?"


    "You already did," she points out. "For five years, you chose me. You chose power and position over your little human


    ything."


    The truth of her words stings, but I push past it. "I made a mistake. One I''m correcting now.


    12


    "It''s toote for that," Selina says, stepping closer to me. "You know what will happen if you formally acknowledge Miles as your heir. The traditionalists will revolt. You''ll lose support. Your presidency will crumble "


    "I don''t care."


    "You will," she says with certainty. "When it all falls apart, when you''re left with nothing but that broken little family, you''ll care then."


    I turn away from her, unable to stomach another moment of this conversation. "We''re done here. Stay away from Iris and Miles.


    If anything happens to either of them-anything at all¡ªI will personally make sure you regret it."


    "Arthur, be reasonable," Selina calls, following me as I head for the door. "Everything I''ve done has been for us. For our future."


    I whirl around, my patiencepletely gone. "There is no ''us''! There is no ''our future"! Get that through your fucking head!"


    "You don''t mean that," she says, reaching for me. "You''re just confused. That human has gotten into your head-"


    "She''s my mate."


    "She''s nothing! A nobody! A pathetic human who trapped you with a defective child!"


    Something in me snaps. Before I can stop myself, I''ve surged forward, backing her against the wall. "Don''t you dare speak about them that way!"


    "Or what?" she challenges, lifting her chin defiantly. "What will you do, Arthur? Kill me? Go ahead!"


    I realize how close I am to losing controlpletely. My wolf is right at the surface, his ws itching to emerge. "Kill her," he hisses. "She tried to kill our mate. Fucking kill her."


    "No." I step back, trying to calm myself.


    "This conversation is over," I say, turning my back on Selina.


    "If you walk out that door, I will destroy you," Selina warms. ¡°I''ll tell everyone about your human whore and your half-breed son. I''ll make sure Miles is taken away. I''ll-"


    1 spin around, my control finally snapping. "ENOUGH!"


    +20 Bonus


    I don''t mean to push her. I really don''t. Just a reflexive gesture to create space between us. But Selina stumbles backward, her


    heel catching on the edge of the step down to her sunken living room. For a moment, time seems to slow as I watch her eyes


    widen with surprise, her arms pinwheeling as she tries to catch her bnce.


    Then she falls, tumbling backward down the short flight of stairs. I hear the sickening crack as her head connects with the marble


    floor at the bottom.


    "Selina!" I rush down the stairs, dropping to my knees beside her unmoving form. Blood pools beneath her head, dark against the


    white marble. "Selina, can you hear me?"


    She doesn''t respond. Doesn''t move. With shaking hands, I check for a pulse, relief flooding through me when I find one.


    Without hesitation, 1 scoop her up and race for the door, mindful of keeping her neck stable. I carefully ce Selina in my car and speed toward the hospital, every second feeling like an eternity.


    By the time we arrive at the emergency room, her breathing has grown shallow, her skin pale and mmy. Medical staff rush out with a gurney, taking in the sight of the Alpha President covered in blood, carrying the unconscious ex-Luna-to- be.


    The next hour passes both too fast and eternally slow at the same time. The police are called. I answer their questions truthfully,


    describing the argument, the fall, how I brought her in immediately.


    They seem satisfied, for now. I''m the Alpha President, after all. My word carries


    weight, and Selina''s house is filled with cameras. But I can still see the impending bacsh already. The recently-ex-fiancee of the Alpha President, suddenly suffering a life-


    threatening injury in his presence.


    It''s not going to be good.


    Eventually, they let me see her. Selina lies motionless in the hospital bed, a breathing tube down her throat, monitoring equipment beeping around her. A thick bandage covers part of her head where they must have operated to relieve the pressure on


    her brain. They had to induce aa.


    Despite everything, seeing her like this makes my stomach twist with guilt. I did this. Not intentionally, but my actions led to this


    oue.


    I sink into the chair beside her bed, burying my face in my hands. How did we get here? How did everything spiral sopletely

 Chapter 146

    Iris


    I stare at my phone for the hundredth time, checking for messages or missed calls from Arthur. Nothing. Not a single word since


    he rushed out during dinnerst night.


    So much for family time. So much for "let me prove it to you." Just another broken promise to add to the pile.


    Miles finally fell asleep after crying for hours. He doesn''t understand why Arthur left so suddenly, why he didn''t even say


    goodbye. I couldn''t give him answers because I don''t have any myself.


    Just the same old pattern repeating itself-Arthur choosing something else over us. Always something more important than his


    "family."


    I try to sleep, but my mind won''t quiet down. Every time I close my eyes, I see Arthur''s face as he rushed out the door. That look


    of... what? Anger? Fear? Determination? I can''t ce it, but something was very wrong.


    Not that it matters. Whatever emergency called him away, he could have at least texted to exin. A simple message would have


    sufficed. But nothing. Radio silence. As if Miles and I don''t even matter.


    By morning, I''m exhausted and Irritable. I make Miles breakfast, grateful that Alice will be picking him up soon for a ydate at the park-she offered so I could rest and recover. Although shockingly, my body feels... great today.


    Better than great, actually. It''s amazing. I woke up hardly sore at all. I feel like I worked out yesterday, that pleasant muscle soreness you get from a good gym session, but that''s it.


    It''s as if I didn''t almost die a week ago.


    It must be Arthur''s blood, just like the doctors said. He is the Alpha President, after all, and he was always a strong Alpha before


    that. He must have very potent blood.


    I''m scrolling mindlessly through news on my phone when a headline stops my heart.


    "BREAKING: Alpha President''s Ex-Fiancee in Critical Condition After Fall."


    My fingers tremble as I tap the article. A photo loads at the top-Arthur sitting beside a hospital bed, his head in his hands. Selinal lies unconscious, tubes and monitors surrounding her.


    The article is sparse on details, but I get the gist of it: Selina suffered a severe head injury after falling down the stairs in her home. She''s in a medically-induceda. Arthur brought her to the hospitalst night and hasn''t left her side.


    I read it three times, trying to make sense of it. Arthur rushed from dinner with us... to go to Selina? And now she''s injured? And he''s keeping vigil at her bedside?


    My stomach twists painfully. I can''t seem to decide if I''m jealous that he''s with her or horrified that something so awful happened to her or... I try to push away that tiny part of myself that almost wants to be d she''s injured.


    +20 Bonus


    Before I can talk myself out of it, I''m getting dressed, calling a cab, and stopping at a florist on the way to the hospital. I''m not


    sure why I feelpelled to bring flowers-maybe as a peace offering, maybe as armor. Either way, the bouquet of white lilies


    feels like a shield as I enter the hospital.


    Finding Selina''s room isn''t difficult. There''s a small crowd of reporters being held at bay by hospital security near the elevators


    on the fourth floor. I slip past them, keeping my head down. My Flora disguise helps-no one looks twice at me.


    The door to Selina''s private room is partially open. I hesitate outside, suddenly questioning my impulse toe here. What am I


    going to say? What do I expect to happen?


    Before I can decide whether to enter or flee, I hear voices from inside.


    "pletely irresponsible! My sister is in aa because of you!"


    ¡°I know, Caleb. And I''m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.¡±


    That''s Arthur''s voice. I edge closer to the door, peering through the gap.


    Arthur stands at the foot of Selina''s bed, looking exhausted. His clothes are


    rumpled, dark circles bruising the skin beneath his


    eyes. Across from him is a tall man with the same aristocratic features as Selina- must be her brother, Caleb.


    "Sorry doesn''t fix this," Caleb snaps. "Sorry doesn''t wake her up!"


    "The doctors say the swelling is already reducing," Arthur says quietly. "She''ll recover."


    "You pushed her down a flight of stairs!"


    My breath catches in


    my throat. Arthur did what?


    "It wasn''t like that," Arthur sighs, running a hand through his hair. "We were arguing. I gestured-maybe too forcefully. She


    stumbled. Lost her bnce."


    "Convenient exnation," Caleb sneers. "I''m sure that''s what you''ll tell the police when I file charges."


    Arthur doesn''t argue. Doesn''t defend himself. Just drops his head in apparent eptance.


    That''s when I push the door open, unable to stop myself. Both men turn to look at me, surprised.

 Chapter 147

    "Iris," Arthur breathes, his eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"


    I hold up the flowers awkwardly. "I heard about Selina. I wanted to... I don''t know. Pay my respects? See if you were okay?"


    Caleb looks between Arthur and me, his expression darkening. "So this is the human," he says, with a dismissive once-over. But


    there''s a strange look in his eyes as he takes me in, and truthfully, I feel a little strange, too. Somehow, there''s a part of me that


    almost seems to... recognize him, even though I''ve never seen this man in my life.


    And it''s not just in appearance that I seem to recognize him. It''s on a deeper level. Almost as if we...


    But then he turns back to his sister, ignoring me, and the moment passes.


    Moving forward, I ce the flowers on a side table and approach Selina''s bed. She looks so different unconscious-younger,


    more vulnerable. Without the malice animating her features, she could almost be ethereally beautiful.


    "I''m sorry this happened to you," I say softly, although I doubt she can hear me. I nce at Arthur. "What really happened?"


    Arthur hesitates. "We were arguing. About you and Miles, actually." He looks down. "Selina admitted that she was behind the car


    ident. That she sent the CPS agent to your apartment."


    My blood runs cold. "She tried to kill me? To take Miles away?"


    Arthur nods grimly. "When I confronted her, things got heated. I was angry- furious, actually. She said terrible things about you both. I pushed her, not intending to hurt her, just to create space. But she fell."


    "ident or not, you put her here," Caleb says, pulling out his phone. "I''m calling the police."


    "Wait," I say, surprising myself. "Please don''t."


    Both men stare at me in shock


    "Why the hell not?" Caleb demands. "He assaulted my sister!"


    I take a deep breath. "Because I know Arthur. He would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially not a woman." I meet Caleb''s gaze. "What happened was an ident. A tragic one, but still an ident."


    "You''re defending him?" Caleb looks incredulous. "After everything?"


    "I''m telling the truth," I say simply. "Arthur is many things, but he''s not violent. Not like that."


    Arthur is watching me with an expression ofplete bewilderment. I can''t me him-I''m a little surprised by my own defense. But despite all of the lies he''s told over the years, I know in my heart he wouldn''t deliberately harm Selina. Or anyone,


    for that matter, unless they truly deserved it.


    "Besides," I continue, "if what Arthur says is true, and Selina was confessing to attempted murder and maniption of child protective services, that context matters. She was threatening me and my son." My eyshes flicker as I look at Arthur. "Our


    11. 3011.


    +20 Bonus


    Caleb studies me for a long moment, his nostrils ring slightly. Then he slowly lowers his phone. "Fine," he says curtly. "I won''t call the police. Yet. But if Selina''s condition worsens, or if she corroborates a different version of events when she wakes up, all bets are off."


    ¡°Understandable," Arthur says. He looks relieved, and more than a little grateful.


    Caleb ignores him, still staring at me with that odd intensity once more. Now that I''m standing closer, I feel another strange pang in my chest, too, even stronger this time. In fact, this close, I almost feel like I''m looking in a mirror. He''s older and male, his hair graying and his eyes a different color than mine-mine are amber and his are gray-but our facial structure is simr.


    They say the average person wouldn''t be able to tell if they met their doppelganger, but I''ve spent enough time painting my own self portraits to know what I look like.


    But we''re not rted. We definitely can''t be. In fact, the thought of being somehow rted to the Willfords, the most powerful werewolf family in Ordan, is almostughable.


    "So you''re the human mate,¡± he repeats, as if testing each word once more. His nostrils re again, and he takes a small step toward me, then back, his brow furrowing as his eyes flick over me. "Are you sure she''s a human, Arthur?" Arthur frowns. "What are you talking about? Of course she''s human."


    I look between them, confused. "What do you mean? Of course I''m human."


    Caleb opens his mouth to respond, but a knock at the door interrupts him. A doctor enters, carrying a folder. She looks solemn as she approaches.


    "Mr. Willford, Mr. President," she acknowledges. "I have Miss Selina''s blood test results."


    "And?" Caleb prompts.


    The doctor nces at me and Arthur uncertainly. "I''m sorry, but you two need to leave."

 Chapter 148

    Iris


    I nearly choke on my coffee when the news segment begins the following morning.


    "Breaking news in the Willford family scandal," announces the reporter, standing outside what looks like an enormous mansion. "DNA test results confirm that Selina Willford, the former fiancee of Alpha President Arthur, is not biologically rted to the prestigious Willford family.


    The camera cuts to Caleb Willford standing at a podium, his face grave. The headline at the bottom of the screen reads: "Willford Heiress Not Biological Daughter-Family ims Infant Switch at Birth."


    I turn up the volume, transfixed.


    "After extensive testing, we have confirmed that my sister-the woman we have raised and loved as Selina Willford-shares no


    biological connection to our family," Caleb states. "We believe there was a deliberate switch at the time of birth, orchestrated by


    parties who perhaps wished to infiltrate and even potentially destroy our family line."


    My mind shes back to yesterday at the hospital, to my strange connection to Caleb and his equally-strange question to Arthur. "Are you sure she''s human?"


    But that''s not possible. No way in hell.


    The press conference continues, with Caleb announcing a worldwide initiative. "The Willford family isunching a global DNA search to find our true blood rtive who was taken from us. Anyone who submits to testing will contribute to a charitable


    donation to the Ordan Central Orphanage Fund, regardless of the results."


    That''s the orphanage where I grew up. My heart squeezes at the mention of it. I haven''t been back there since I left at eighteen, determined to pave my own way. But it was a good upbringing regardless of the circumstances, and the headmistress of the orphanage, Giulia, was always kind to me.


    "We will make a donation for every person whoes forward to be tested," Caleb continues. "Our missing family member deserves to know their true heritage, and we intend to find them, no matter how long it takes."


    The anchor returns, exining that the Willford family is one of the oldest and most powerful werewolf bloodlines in Ordan. Their search has already sparked enormous interest, with testing centers being set up across the country.


    "Could you be the missing Willford heir?" the anchor asks, looking directly into the camera. ¡°Visit any participating medical" center to find out. All it takes is a simple cheek swab."


    I turn off the TV, my thoughts a jumble. The Willford family is searching for their real daughter, who was allegedly switched at birth with Selina. Someone who grew up not knowing their true heritage. Someone who could be anywhere.


    Someone like me, who never knew her parents.


    +20 Bonus


    I shake my head, dismissing the ridiculous thought. No, I couldn''t possibly be the missing Willford. What are the odds? Besides, I''m human, not a werewolf. I''ve never shown any signs of werewolf traits. The Willfords are looking for a werewolf, obviously.


    Still, the news triggers memories of the orphanage.


    I never knew why I was left there. The story I was told was that I was found


    abandoned on the orphanage steps when I was just days old. No note, no nket, no identifying items. Nothing to give me a clue about where I came from or who my parents were.


    in his hand.


    The sound of Miles'' footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. He run


    into the living room with a crayon drawing in his hand.


    "Mommy, look!" he says, thrusting the paper at me. "I drawed our family!"


    I take the drawing, my heart melting at the sight. Miles has drawn three stick figures-a big one with brown hair, a bigger one with ck hair, and a small one between them. Me, Arthur, and Miles. We''re all holding hands, the sun shining above us.


    "It''s beautiful, little wolf," I say, giving him a kiss on the forehead.


    "Is Daddying back?" Miles asks, his green eyes-so like Arthur''s-looking up at me hopefully.


    I sigh. "I don''t know, sweetheart. Daddy''s very busy right now."


    After the hospital yesterday, Arthur promised to call, but he hasn''t. I''m not surprised, really. Selina may not be a Willford, but she''s still in aa because of him. Of course he''s staying with her. And yet....


    "Why don''t we bake some cookies?" I suggest, changing the subject. "It''s my day off, and I''m feeling much better."


    Miles brightens immediately. "Yes! Chocte chip?"


    "How about we make cookies for the children at the orphanage where I grew up?"


    I find myself saying. The idea forms as I speak it, surprising me. "We could visit them today."


    Miles tilts his head, curious. "You didn''t have a mommy and daddy?"


    "No, I didn''t," I say softly, ruffling his ck hair. "I grew up in a ce with lots of other children who didn''t have parents."

 Chapter 149

    His little face scrunches in thought. "Oh. That''s sad."


    "It was, sometimes, but not always. But I''m thinking we could bring them some cookies and maybe some toys. Would you like to help me do that?"


    He nods eagerly. "Will we see your old room?"


    The question catches me off guard. I hadn''t thought about actually going Inside, just dropping off the donations and chatting with Giulia-Goddess, I hope she''s still there and hasn''t retired or passed away. She was always older.


    But Miles'' innocent curiosity makes me reconsider. Maybe it would be good for him to see where I came from.


    "Yes," I decide. "We can see my old room, if they''ll let us."


    We spend the morning baking-chocte chip cookies, peanut butter cookies, and oatmeal raisin. Miles is a good helper, measuring ingredients carefully and only sneaking a little bit of chocte chips when he thinks I''m not looking


    As the cookies cool, we go through Miles'' toys, selecting the ones he''s outgrown or doesn''t y with anymore. He''s unexpectedly generous, adding some of his favorite coloring books and crayons to the pile after I exin that some of the children might not


    have many toys of their own


    "Can I bring my shark for them to see?" he asks, holding up his beloved stuffed shark. "Not to give away, just to show."


    "Of course," I tell him, touched.


    By early afternoon, we''re packed and ready to go. The cookies are carefully arranged in containers, the toys are packed in an extra cardboard box I hadying around, and Miles is dressed in his shark t-shirt to match his stuffedpanion. I call a cab, and we wait outside the building, Miles chattering excitedly about meeting the children.


    As we''re waiting, the sky above us darkens, threatening rain. I check my phone for the cab''s arrival time and see that it''s dyed due to an ident on the main road. Great.


    Just as I''m considering whether to wait or go back inside, a familiar ck car pulls up in front of us. My heart does a little flip as the window rolls down, revealing Arthur''s face.


    "Iris?" he says, looking surprised to see us standing there with packages. "Miles? What are you doing out here?"


    "Daddy!" Miles exims, bouncing on his toes.


    Thesitate, reluctant to exin our ns to Arthur. But Miles has no such reservations.


    "We''re going to Mommy''s orphan-age," he says proudly, adorably


    mispronouncing the word. "With cookles and toys!"


    Arthur''s eyebrows rise. He looks at me questioningly.


    "We''re visiting the Ordan Central Orphanage," I exin. He knows I grew up there. He knows everything about me, even when I


    +20 Bonus!


    sometimes wish he didn''t. "With all this news about the Willford family donation drive, I thought it would be a good time to give back in our own way."


    "I see," Arthur says slowly. "That''s.... that''s really kind of you, Iris "


    An awkward silence falls between us, interrupted only by the first few drops of rain beginning to stter on the sidewalk.


    "Our cab is runningte," I say, just as Miles squeals and tries to use his stuffed shark as an umbre.


    "I can drive you," Arthur offers immediately. His eyes flick over me, and I can tell from the brief look of surprise in his eyes that he''s just now noticing how quickly I''ve recovered since thest time he saw me. But he doesn''t mention it..


    He goes on, "I was just heading back to the hospital, but that can wait. I''ve never visited the orphanage myself, honestly." Thatst part surprises me; one would think that the Alpha President would add orphanages to his rounds in press tours,


    I open my mouth to decline, but Miles cuts in. "Yes! Please, Mommy?"


    The rain ising down harder now, fat drops soaking into my hair and Miles'' shirt. The cookies will be ruined if we stand out here much longer.


    With a sigh, I look at Arthur-really look at him-for the first time since he pulled up. He looks exhausted, his eyes shadowed


    fromck of sleep. But there''s something else there too, a warmth and sincerity that reminds me of the Arthur I fell in love with


    all those years ago.


    I shouldn''t. Not really. Not with the whole custody thing still going on.


    But the raines down harder, and Miles presses against my leg, his stuffed shark held protectively against his chest. I make


    my decision.


    "Alright," I say, nodding and opening the door. "We''ll go together."

 Chapter 150

    Iris


    The Ordan Central Orphanage looks smaller than I remember, or maybe I''ve just grown since I wasst here. The once-vibrant


    red bricks have faded to a dull rust color, and the front garden, which Headmistress Giulia used to maintain so meticulously, is now overgrown with weeds. Several of the windows have been patched with duct tape, and even the front steps are cracked.


    "It''s... seen better days," I murmur as we approach the entrance, Arthur carrying the box of toys while I bnce the containers of


    cookies in my arms.


    "Is this where you grew up, Mommy?" Miles asks, looking up at the building.


    "Yes, little wolf. From when I was a baby until I was eighteen."


    The front door creaks as we push it open, revealing a dimly lit lobby. One of the light fixtures is flickering. A few children peek curiously at us from a doorway leading to what I remember as themon room.


    "Hello?" I call out. "Giulia? Are you


    here?"


    There''s a shuffling sound, and then an elderly woman emerges from an office to the right. Her silver hair is pulled back in a loose bun, wisps escaping to frame her deeply lined face. She squints at us through thick sses, then her eyes widen in recognition.


    "Iris?" she gasps. "Is that really you?"


    "It''s me," I reply softly as a lump forms in my throat. I set down the cookies and quickly cross the room to embrace her. She feels a lot frailer than I remember. Even more frail than Augustine, somehow.


    "Let me look at you," she says, holding me at arm''s length. "All grown up and so beautiful! And who is this handsome young


    man?"


    I gesture to Miles, who steps forward, shyly wringing his hands. "I''m Miles," he says softly at a nod from me.


    "He''s son," I add, gently urging him forward. "Miles, this is Giulia. She took care of me when I was little."


    "And who is...?" Giulia''s voice trails off as she spots Arthur, her eyes widening further. ¡°Alpha President! What an honor!"


    Arthur smiles warmly as he sets down the box of toys. The kids in the doorway eye them curiously, and Miles as well. One little girl with pigtails and a polka dot dress waves at Miles and he blushes, hiding behind my legs, but I can tell he''s still watching her


    cautiously.


    "The honor is mine, ma''am," Arthur says. "Iris has told me so many wonderful things about you."


    This is a lie-I''ve barely spoken about the orphanage to Arthur, and even when we were together, I didn''t talk much about my childhood but I appreciate the kindness in his words. Giulia practically glows under his attention.


    "We brought cookies and toys," I say, gesturing to our donations. "And we were hoping for a tour, if that''s alright. Miles wants to


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    see where I grew up."


    "Of course, of course!" Giulia ps her hands together. "The children will be thrilled with the gifts. And a tour-well, things have


    changed a bit since your time, Iris, but I''d be happy to show you around."


    As we follow Giulia through the orphanage, I''m struck by how much it has deteriorated. The wallpaper is peeling in ces, and


    there are water stains on some of the ceilings. The furniture is more worn than I remember, patched in ces with duct tape. But


    the children we pass seem happy enough, if a bit subdued.


    "How many children are here now?" I ask as we climb the creaking stairs to the dormitories.


    "Twenty-seven," Giulia says with a sigh. "More than we canfortably house, but what can I do? Turn them away?"


    "It must be difficult," Arthurments, his gaze taking in a sagging section of ceiling.


    Giulia shrugs. "We manage. Private donations are rare


    e rare these days. Everyone wants to donate to the trendy causes-the arts, environmental charities. Orphans aren''t fashionable, even though our country faces more and more orphans every year due to rising poptions."


    I feel a pang of guilt. I''ve been sessful in my career, but it never urred to me to send money back to the orphanage. I''ve been so focused on moving forward, on escaping my past, that I never thought about giving back.


    "And here we are," Giulia announces, pushing open a familiar door. "The girls'' dormitory. Your old bed was right over there,


    Iris."


    I step into the room and am immediately hit with a tidal wave of memories. The room holds six beds, each with a small trunk at the foot for personal belongings. The beds are neatly made, but the bedding is threadbare. My old bed is by the window, just as I remember.


    "You didn''t have your own room, Mommy?" Miles asks.

 Chapter 151

    I shake my head. "I shared this room with five other girls. We didn''t have much privacy, but we became like sisters."


    "Do you still keep in touch with any of them?" Arthur asks.


    "No. We all scattered after aging out. Different cities, different lives." I run my hand along the windowsill, noticing a small carving in the wood-my initials, scratched there with a stolen pencil one lonely night. I trace the letters with my fingertip and try-not to notice the lump forming in my throat.


    After that, we continue the tour, moving from the dormitories to the dining hall, the small library, and finally back to the lobby. Throughout, Arthur asks thoughtful questions about the orphanage''s history and current needs. He notices things I miss a leak in the bathroom ceiling, a crack in the foundation, a window that isn''t storm-proof.


    "This ce needs quite a bit of work," hements to Giulia as we stand in the lobby.


    She sighs, nodding. "The building is nearly a century old. We patch what we can, but I''m no handyman, and hiring professionals is beyond our budget these days."


    Arthur frowns, surveying the space. "Some of these issues could be serious if they''re not addressed. That leak in the


    bathroom, for instance--that''s going to cause structural damage eventually."


    "I''m well aware," Giulia says ruefully. "But what can I do?"


    "I could help," Arthur offers, surprising me. "I''m fairly handy with basic repairs. I could fix the leak, seal that window, maybe


    shore up those loose railings on the stairs. It''ll be easier than hiring a team of people in the meantime, although I''d like to


    personally write you a check to get the more problematic work done professionally."


    Giulia blinks at him in astonishment. "You? The Alpha President? Doing plumbing repairs at an orphanage?"


    I stare at Arthur, equally surprised. This is a side of him I''ve rarely seen-the down-to-earth, roll-up-your-sleeves man beneath


    the polished political exterior. It reminds me of the Arthur I fell in love with, before power and politics took precedence.


    "What happened to the wall?" Miles asks suddenly, pointing to arge nk


    space on the lobby wall. There''s no paint, just drywall, like It was quickly thrown up.


    Giulia turns to look where he''s pointing. "Ah, that. We used to have a beautiful mural there-handprints of all the children who


    passed through these doors. Including your mother''s." She sighs. "But we had a pipe burst a few years back. The water damage was extensive. We had to rece the drywall."


    "All those handprints, gone?" I ask, dismayed. I remember adding mine when I was about six, pressing my paint-covered hand to the wall with such seriousness, as if I were leaving my mark on the world.


    "I''m afraid so," Glu says with a nod. "We''ve been meaning to start a new one, but..." She gestures vaguely, and I understand.


    With so many pressing practical concerns, a decorative mural falls to the bottom of the priority list.


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    "Mommy can paint a new one!" Miles exims suddenly. "She''s an artist!"


    Giulia brightens. "Are you? I remember you were always drawing as a child. You''ve made a career of it?"


    Inod, a bit embarrassed by the attention. "Yes, I''m a painter. I actually just received a residency at the Abbott Gallery."


    "How wonderfull" Giulia beams at me. "Oh, I always knew you''d do something creative. You used to draw such beautiful pictures, even with those stubby orphanage crayons."


    "You should paint a new mural, Mommy," Miles insists.


    The idea immediately takes root in my mind. A new mural, not just recing what was lost, but creating something new and hopeful. Something colorful and festive.


    "I could," I say slowly. "If you''d like that, Giulia. Free of charge, of course." Giulia''s eyes fill with tears. "You would do that? Oh, Iris, that would be wonderful. The children would be so excited."


    "You could start tomorrow," Arthur suggests, ncing at me. "While I''m working on the repairs."


    I look at him, surprised again. "You''re reallying back tomorrow to fix things?"


    He nods. "First thing in the morning. I''ve already cleared my schedule."


    "The Alpha President, fixing our plumbing," Giulia marvels. "No one will believe me."


    I study Arthur''s face, looking for signs of insincerity, for the political calction


    that must be behind this gesture. But I see none


    there, and as much as 1 hate to admit it, it softens me.


    "So it''s settled," Giulia says. "You''ll both


    "First thing," Arthur replies with a smile. "Iris, I''ll pick you up first thing."

 Chapter 152

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    Arthur arrives at exactly nine o''clock the next morning, looking remarkably different from his usual polished self. Instead of his customary tailored suit, he''s wearing worn jeans, a simple gray t-shirt, and work boots. His hair isn''t perfectly styled-even that single curl is visible across his forehead-and he has a tool belt slung low on his hips.


    The casual look k suits him-makes him seem more approachable, more human. More like the man


    the man I fell in love with


    And it makes him irresistibly handsome, so much so that I can hardly even look at him without turning red.


    However, I notice something else as we drive-it''s just us. No Beta Ezra. No journalists following us. Even when we pull up to the


    orphanage, I don''t see any other cars..


    Out of curiosity, I ask, "Did you tell your PR manager about this or anything?" Arthur gives me a strange look. "No. Why would I?"


    I shrug and don''t bring it up further, but it takes me by surprise. Why wouldn''t he want this documented? Arthur has always been careful about his public image, always thinking about how things will y in the press.


    A hands-on project at an orphanage would be ideal publicity. Unless...


    Unless he''s still too embarrassed to be seen publicly with me. Even when he knows that would be the one thing that would make


    mee back to him and drop the custody battle entirely.


    The thought sours my mood somewhat, although I try to push it aside as we head up the front steps. Giulia greets us at the door,


    beaming when she sees Arthur''s work clothes and the supplies he''s brought.


    Inside, the children are gathered in the lobby, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. The little girl from yesterday-the one


    with pigtails and the polka dot dress-spots Miles and waves enthusiastically.


    "That''s Amy," Giulia tells us softly. "She''s been here since she was three. Very bright, but very shy, except, it seems, with your


    Miles."


    Miles hesitates, looking up at me for permission. I nod encouragingly, and he cautiously approaches Amy. Within moments, they''re talking animatedly, Miles showing her his shark toy and Amy showing him a tattered stuffed rabbit in return. Curious, I nce at Arthur and see his expression shift as he watches Miles y with the little girl-sees how Miles asionally stumbles over words, how he has to concentrate extra hard to follow what she''s saying, how his hands p slightly when he gets


    excited. All the little manifestations of his condition.


    It reminds me painfully of that day when I finally told him the truth about Miles'' disability. The sh of disappointment in his


    eyes and the phrase, "He shouldn''t be like that."


    "I''m sorry," Arthur says suddenly, so quietly I almost miss it.


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    "What?"


    nd I said


    He turns to me. "For how I reacted when you told me about Miles'' condition. I didn''t understand then. I was surprised, and I said something I shouldn''t have."


    I blink, startled by the unexpected apology. Did he sense my difort through the mate bond? I thought I''ve been pretty good about keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself-it''s always been easier, anyway, since I have no wolf and can''t manipte the bond much-but maybe I identally let it slip.


    "Ok, I thought-"


    that Alpha wolves could have


    "I didn''t mean to make it out like I was disappointed," Arthur cuts me off firmly. "I didn''t know that Alpha learning disabilities or be on the spectrum. But that''s not an excuse."


    "No, it''s not," I agree. But the regret in his eyes softens my anger. "Miles isn''t damaged, Arthur. He''s perfect exactly as he is."


    "I know that now," Arthur says, watching as Miles and Amy move to the yroom


    together. "He''s amazing, Iris. You''ve done an incredible job with him." He hesitates, then adds, "I''d like to learn more about his needs. So I can help him in the future, if he needs it."

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    My throat bobs. That was... unexpected. But it''s touching, if I don''t let my mind wander into the darkness and assume he''s just doing it for brownie points. The genuine look in his eyes makes me believe he''s being serious, though.


    "Okay," I say with a nod. "If anythinges up, I''ll do my best to exin it to you."


    "Thank you."


    With that, we separate to begin our respective projects. I set up shop in the lobby, where Giulia has cleared therge nk wall for the new mural. I''ve brought sketchbooks to n the design, and art supplies for the children to contribute. Arthur heads upstairs


    with his tools to tackle the leaking bathroom first.


    The morning passes quickly as I work with the children to design our mural. We decide on a tree with spreading branches, each leaf meant to be a child''s handprint in various colors. At the base of the tree, we''ll paint the orphanage building with children ying outside.


    By noon, I''ve sketched the outline of the tree and building on the wall, and the children have begun adding their handprints as


    leaves.


    It''s a surprisingly warm day today, and I''ve discarded my yellow cardigan as I''ve begun to work up a sweat. The lobby is filled with noise as the kidsugh and Giulia lightly scolds them for trying to smear paint on each other. Thankfully, it''s water soluble,


    so it''lle off easily.


    I haven''t seen Arthur since he went upstairs, but I can hear asional hammering or the creak of pipes being tightened. It''s strange to think of the Alpha President up to his elbows in plumbing work, but also oddly endearing.


    I try not to think about him working up a sweat, too. The hard lines of his jaw as he focuses, his deft hands twisting a wrench, that one pesky curl falling into his eyes so he repeatedly has to brush it out of the way....


    No, Iris, I tell myself, shaking my head. Now isn''t the time or the ce, and yet...


    I can''t exin it. Ever since that blood transfusion, I''ve been feeling... different. Like there''s something simmering just beneath the surface of my skin. Not just an extra pep in my step, but something else, too. Like the bond between us is electric, asionally


    sparking brightly.


    Arthur must be manipting the bond, giving it the odd tug or there-possibly to butter me up. As a human, I certainly can''t do


    it myself. Not to that extent, at least.


    Still, I try not to think about it, and instead focus on the mural.


    Around lunchtime, I''ve worked up quite an appetite. In the kitchen, I find Giulia preparing simple sandwiches for the children. I offer to help, and together we make a fresh batch-turkey and cheese for the kids, and extras for Arthur and me.


    I also mix up arge pitcher of lemonade, adding extra ice tobat the afternoon heat.


    Once lunch is prepared, I load a tray with two sandwiches, a ss of lemonade, and some of the leftover cookies from yesterday. I


    head outside, where the kids are ying on the backwn.


    Arthur has moved to the shade of arge oak tree at the edge of the property, sitting on an old bench as he wipes sweat from his


    brow. He looks up as I approach, and I feel an instant heat rise to my cheeks when I see his tan muscles peeking out from beneath his shirt, a thin sheen of sweat and grease coating his skin.


    "You look thirsty," I say, holding a ss of lemonade out to him.

 Chapter 154

    Tris


    Arthur epts the lemonade gratefully, and I can''t help but watch the way his


    throat moves as he swallows, a bead of sweat trailing down his neck and


    disappearing beneath his cor. I''ve never seen him like this before-dirty, sweaty, his hair mussed from work rather than styled for appearance.


    I like it. I like it a lot more than I expected.


    "This is good," he says after finishing half the ss in one go. "Thank you."


    I sit beside him on the bench, maintaining a careful distance. "How''s the... plumbing going?"


    "Fixed the leak upstairs and reinforced some of the joists that were getting waterlogged. Now I''m working on the back steps." He gestures to the half-pleted porch. "Some of the boards werepletely rotted through. It''s a wonder no one''s fallen through yet."


    I nod, sneaking nces at him as he drinks his lemonade. There''s something undeniably attractive about a man working with his hands, creating or fixing something. Especially when that man is usually wrapped in thousand-dor suits and signing executive orders.


    "You''re staring," Arthur says, a small smile ying at the corner of his mouth.


    Heat rushes to my cheeks. "Just surprised to see you so.... handy."


    "I worked construction during college summers," he exins, setting down his empty ss. "My father insisted I learn a trade, even though he knew I''d eventually go into politics. Said it would keep me humble."


    "Smart man."


    "Something like that," Arthur says. Then, abruptly changing the subject: "Iris, about the custody battle-"


    "Arthur, not now," I cut him off with a sigh. "We''re having a nice day. Let''s not ruin it."


    He grabs my wrist as I start to rise, the sudden contact sending a jolt through me. "I''m not trying to take Miles from you. I need you to believe that. I just want to be part of his life-part of both of your lives. I want my family back."


    I look down at his hand on my wrist, then back up to his face. There''s an earnestness there that''s hard to ignore.


    "If you want me to drop the custody battle," I say carefully, "if you really want us


    to be a family, then prove it. Announce our matehood to the public. Stop hiding me away like I''m something shameful."


    Arthur''s grip on my wrist loosens, and I can see the conflict in his eyes, just like always. "Iris, it''s not that simple. If I publicly acknowledge you as my mate, It could put both you and Miles in danger. There are traditionalists who would never ept a human Luna, who might-"


    +20 Bonus


    "Stop," I interrupt, pulling my hand free. "Just stop. It''s been the same excuse for too long. If you''re not ashamed of me, then what''s the real reason? You were willing to marry Selina in public, broadcast it to the entire country. But the idea of iming your actual mate, your son''s mother, is somehow too dangerous just because I''m a human?"


    "It''s different," he insists, his voice dropping. "You know it''s different."


    "Yes, it is. Because I''m human. How do I know you won''t happily ept Miles in the public eye as your heir but keep me hidden forever? We''re a package deal, Arthur." I stand up, my appetite suddenly gone. "Enjoy your sandwich. I should get back to the


    mural.


    I walk away before he can respond, my heart torn. Part of me understands his concerns. But another part of me, the part that spent years believing he''d essentially abandoned me, can''t help but feel like this is just another excuse.


    Back in the lobby, I throw myself into my work, using the painting as an outlet for my frustration. The tree is taking shape nicely, its branches spreading wide across the wall, each handprint leaf a different color. The children are delighted with their contributions, and their enthusiasm helps lift my mood.


    I''ve just finished helping a small boy add his purple handprint when Giulia approaches, watching me with a thoughtful expression on her face.


    "You''ve built a beautiful family," she says, smiling softly as she hands me a smaller brush to touch up the edges of the handprint. "You and the Alpha President and your son. It warms my heart to see how well you''ve grown up, despite everything."

 Chapter 155

    I dab at the mural, buying time to formte a response. "Thank you, Giulia. But


    Arthur and I aren''t exactly a family. Not in the


    traditional sense."


    "No? The way he looks at you says otherwise."


    I shake my head, unable to exin theplicated mess that is my rtionship with Arthur. How do I tell her that the man she sees working tirelessly to fix her orphanage is the same man who''s locked in a legal battle with me over our son? That he ims to love me but won''t acknowledge me publicly? That I can''t entirely trust he won''t pull another stunt and im Alpha''s Heir on Miles, just like he''s lied to me so many times before?


    "It''splicated," I say instead.


    Giulia chuckdes. ¡°Love usually is. But the bond between you is clear to anyone with eyes." She pats my arm. "Don''t let pride or fear keep your son from his father for too long. Even hybrid children with no wolf of their own benefit from having a wolf parent in the house. It helps them understand that side of themselves."


    "Actually," I say, "We found out recently that Miles is a fully-fledged Alpha wolf. He''ll likely grow to be a powerful one at that."


    Giulia''s eyes widen. "Is that so? But you''re human." She tilts her head, studying me as if seeing me for the first time. "Although, now that I think about it, you always did connect easily with the wolf pups when you were here. Human children and wolf children often have difficulties connecting at such a young age. But you never had that problem."


    I frown slightly, trying to remember. My childhood feels like a lifetime ago, so I don''t remember the little details.


    "You were always right in the middle of the wolf pups'' games. They epted you a way they rarely did with other human children." She chuckles. "Maybe you''re


    not human after all, if you now have a wolf pup of your own!"


    Iugh it off, but my mind is racing. Could there be something to what she''s saying?


    Byte afternoon, the mural isplete. The tree spreads majestically across the wall, its branches filled with colorful


    ying in the yard. I even added Miles and Lily.


    handprints. At the base, the orphanage sits, with tiny figur


    "It''s beautiful," Giulia says with tears in her eyes. "Just beautiful. You''ve brought such life to this old ce."


    She hugs me tightly, then turns to Arthur, who''s just finished repairing the back steps. And, fuck, if he doesn''t look even more infuriatingly hot with his toolbelt slung over one shoulder. I don''t know why I feel like my body is reacting more than usual around him. Am I ovting or something, or is he still tugging on the mate bond in an attempt to butter me up?


    After that, we gather our things as the children say their goodbyes. Miles is especially reluctant to leave Amy, promising toe


    back soon to y again.


    Later, once Miles is asleep and I''ve got a kettle boiling for tea, I flick on the TV. It''s tuned to the news channel, and immediately I


    +20 Bonus


    see an ad for the DNA test sh across the screen.


    I think about Giulia''s words, about how I connected so easily with the wolf pups as a child. About my rapid healing, the


    strengthening mate bond, the strange sense of recognition when I met Caleb.


    Small things, coincidences maybe, but together they almost seem to form a pattern.


    What if there''s more to my origins than I''ve ever considered? What if the reason Arthur''s blood healed me so effectively wasn''t just the mate bond, but something in my own DNA?


    It''s a wild thought, probably ridiculous. The chances that I, out of all the orphans in Ordan, could be the missing Willford heir are astronomically small. But then, what are the chances that I would be the mate of the Alpha President? That my son would be a full Alpha wolf despite my supposedly human genes? "Fuck it," I whisper.


    Before I can talk myself out of it, I fill out the registration form for the test on my phone, selecting an appointment time for tomorrow morning

 Chapter 156

    Iris


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    The next morning, the testing center is even more crowded than I expected it to be 1 clutch Miles'' hand tightly as we navigate through the throng of people, all women, all waiting to see if they''re the missing heir.


    The line stretches out the door and around the block, but it moves quickly. Efficient attendants in whiteb coats usher people through the process, swabbing the insides of their cheeks and then sending them away.


    As we get in line, I nce around at the other women who havee. They''re all strikingly beautiful, with the unmistakable


    presence that werewolves naturally exude-tall, graceful, with perfect skin and glossy hair.


    Next to them, I feel distinctly ordinary in my jeans and simple blouse, my Flora disguise left at home today because I figured no


    one would recognize me anyway. I haven''t been recognized in public for a while.


    When we finally reach the front of the line, a perky attendant with a clipboard greets us.


    "Wee to the Willford Family Search Initiative," she chirps. "Are you here to be tested?"


    "Yes," I say, trying to ignore the curious nces from the women behind me. "Just me, not my son."


    "Perfect! I''ll just need you to fill out this form with your basic information." She hands me a clipboard. "Do you have any known werewolf lineage? We''re primarily looking for Alpha werewolf gics, of course."


    "No," I admit, taking the clipboard. "None that I know of. I''m human, as far as I''m aware."


    The attendant blinks, her smile faltering slightly. "Oh. Well, anyone is wee to test, of course! The donation to the orphanage


    is made regardless of eligibility."


    I nod, trying not to feel self-conscious as I fill out the form. Name, date of birth, contact information... There''s a space for "known genealogy" that I leave nk, and another for "reason for testing" where I simply write "orphan."


    From behind me, I hear


    hushed giggles. Turning slightly, I catch two gorgeous werewolf women whispering to each other.


    "A human?" one murmurs, not bothering to lower her voice. "What''s the point?"


    "The Willfords have been purebred Alphas for twelve generations," the other replies, shaking her head. "As it a human could possibly be rted."


    My cheeks burn, but I keep my expression neutral as I hand the form back to the attendant. She nces it over, then leads me to a


    small booth where another technician walts with a cheek swab.


    "This will just take a second," the technician says, "Onen wide."


    Iply, trying to ignore the continued stares and whispers from the waiting room. The swab scrapes the inside of my cheek for a moment before the technician ces it in a sealed tube with abel. They tell me I''ll hear back about the results within a week.


    #20 Bonus


    "Is it really worth running the test?" I hear someone mutter as we exit the booth. "What a waste of resources."


    Not wanting to expose Miles to any malice, I hurry toward the exit, keeping my head down. In my rush, I don''t notice the person


    gto


    standing in the doorway until we collide.


    "Oh! I''m so sorry-Alice?"


    Alice steadies herself, her surprise quickly morphing into delight. "Iris! What are you doing here?"


    "I could ask you the same thing," I say. "Are you getting tested too?"


    She nods, ncing around at the crowded room. "Yeah, I figured why not, right? I was adopted as a baby and never knew my birth parents." She shrugs with a smile. "The chances are astronomically small, of course, but the money goes to a good cause."


    "I didn''t know you were adopted," I say, shocked that this never came up in our conversations.


    "It''s not something I advertise," Alice admits. "My adoptive parents were wonderful, and I never felt the need to search for my birth family. But this whole Willford thing has me curious, you know?"


    "I get it," I say, nodding. "I''m in the same boat, sort of. I grew up in an orphanage, never knew my parents either."


    Alice''s eyes widen. "Really? Which orphanage?"


    "Ordan Central," I reply. "I was there from infancy until I aged out at eighteen."


    Alice goes very still, staring at me with wide eyes. "Ordan Central," she repeats slowly. "Wait, when were you there?"


    I tell her the years, and Alice''s mouth drops open. "That''s... that''s when I was there too. Before I was adopted. I left when I was

 Chapter 157

    Now it''s my turn to stare. "You were at Ordan


    n Central? During those years?"


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    We both fall silent, studying each other''s faces with new awareness. There''s something vaguely familiar about Alice''s features


    now that I''m looking for it-the shape of her eyes, maybe, or the way she tilts her head when she''s thinking.


    "There was a girl," Alice says slowly. "Who used to draw pictures for everyone. She made one for me before I was adopted. A butterfly, I think?"


    A memory stirs then-a small, tearful girl clutching a battered stuffed rabbit, preparing to leave the orphanage with her new family. Me, pressing a crayon drawing into her hands. "It''s yours to keep," I''d told her. "So you won''t forget us." "Your rabbit," I whisper. "You had a stuffed rabbit named... Hoppy?"


    "Floppy," Alice corrects. "Holy shit, it was you!"


    Without warning, she throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I hug her back, astonished by this unexpected connection.


    Miles watches us curiously.


    "I can''t believe it," Alice says, pulling back to look at me. "Iris from the orphanage.


    I remember you now! You were always so nice


    to me when the older kids were mean.


    "And you were thed who could do a perfect cartwheel," I recall with augh. "You tried to teach me, but I was terrible at it."


    It''s strange but wonderful, connecting this piece of my past with my present. Alice, my new friend, was once little Alice from the


    orphanage. The coincidence seems almost too perfect to be real.


    "We have so much to catch up on," Alice says, ncing at her watch. "Do you have time for coffee? There''s a cafe just down the


    street."


    "I''d love that," I reply, genuinely excited at the prospect. "Miles, would you like some hot chocte?"


    He nods enthusiastically, and the three of us exit the testing center together.


    As we step onto the sidewalk, Alice links her arm through mine. "So, tell me everything. What happened after I left? Did you stay in touch with anyone else from the orphanage?"


    "Not really," I admit. "Once we all aged out, everyone scattered. Life happened." "And look at us now," Alice says with a smile. "Both sessful, both getting DNA tests on the off chance we''re secretly werewolf royalty"


    Iugh. "When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."


    "Maybe, but isn''t it fun to Imagine?" She nudges me with her elbow. "Picture it: one of us turns out to be the long-lost Willford heir, moves into a mansion, then runs away somewhere tropical with the fortune and never looks back..."


    "Right, I''m sure that''s exactly how it would go," I say with a dry chuckle.


    +20 Bonus


    We''re about to cross the street to the cafe when a familiar ck car pulls up alongside us, tires squealing slightly as ites to an abrupt stop. The window rolls down, revealing Beta Ezra in the driver''s seat.


    "Iris," he says urgently. "You and Miles need toe with me right now."


    My heart immediately kicks into overdrive. "What? Why? What''s happened?" "Just get in the car, please. Before it happens."


    "Before what happens?" I nce at Alice, who looks as confused as I feel. "Ezra, I''m not just going to-


    "Iris," he cuts me off. "Trust me. You want to be in this car right now.


    #


    Something in his tone makes me obey. I climb into the car with Miles, even pulling Alice in after me, just in case a bomb is about to go off or something. But to my surprise, Ezra doesn''t pull away just yet.


    Instead, he reaches forward and taps a button on the dashboard. A screen descends from the ceiling of the car, flickering to life. with a live news broadcast. The presidential seal is visible on a podium, and a crowd of reporters waits expectantly, cameras


    shing.


    Suddenly, Arthur walks into frame. The room falls silent as he adjusts the microphone and looks directly into the camera.


    And then, without preamble, Arthur leans into the microphone and says, "My mate


    is a human. We have a son together, and I''m tired of keeping them hidden away in the dark."

 Chapter 158

    Iris


    I can''t believe what I''m seeing.


    Arthur just went on live television and told the entire world about us. He finally did the one thing I''ve been begging him to do


    since... forever.


    My hand flies to my arm, pinching the skin there until it hurts. Nope, Not dreaming.


    This is definitely real.


    "We need to get you home," Ezra says, ncing at me in the rearview mirror, "Before people find out who you are and the paparazzi shows up."


    "But-coffee" Alice gestures toward the cafe down the street.


    "I''ll call you," I promise, still dazed. "I need to... I need to deal with this."


    Alice nods, quickly climbing out of the car. She waves slightly, looking just as dumbfounded as I feel, and then Ezra is peeling away from the curb before I can blink. Miles looks up at me, confused.


    "What''s happening, Mommy?"


    I shake my head. "Don''t worry about it, little wolf. We''ll talk about itter."


    all checking his mirrors.


    Ezra speeds through the city streets, asionally checking


    "Looks like no one is following us," he says, seemingly satisfied, "Arthur didn''t mention your name, so we still have a small window of time before your identity gets out."


    "How long has he been nning this?" Lask


    Ezra''s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror again. "Since this morning."


    The revtion makes my heart flutter. So this wasn''t another one of his carefully orchestrated PR moves. Arthur made this decision spontaneously, from the heart.


    By the time we reach my apartment, my phone is already buzzing non-stop with messages. Brian and Liam are frantically asking if I''ve seen the news. I Ignore them for now, focusing on getting Miles inside safely.


    Arthur is waiting for us in the apartment, pacing back and forth across my small living room. When we walk in, he stops abruptly, his eyes finding mine. I''m not surprised to see him here. If anything, I''m sort of relieved.


    "You did it," I say softly. "You actually did it."


    He takes a step toward me, then hesitates, "I did. I''m sorry I didn''t warn you, but I was afraid I''d talk myself out of it if I waited


    +20 Bonus


    any longer.


    Miles runs to Arthur, who scoops him up automatically. "Daddy, you were on TV!"


    "I was, buddy," Arthur says, still looking at me. "I was telling everyone how much I love you and your mom."


    Ezra clears his throat. "I''ll be outside, making sure we don''t have any... unexpected visitors."


    Once the door closes, leaving just the three of us, Arthur sets Miles down gently. "Why don''t you go y in your room for a bit? I need to talk to Mommy."


    Miles nods and runs off to his room, leaving Arthur and me staring at each other across the living room.


    "Why now?" I ask.


    "Because you were right." Arthur runs a hand through his hair, messing up his usually perfect style. "I was a coward. I told


    myself I was protecting you and Miles, but I was really protecting myself from the political fallout. From having to fight for what


    matters instead of just maintaining the status quo.¡±


    He takes another step toward me. "And then yesterday, watching you at the orphanage, seeing how you connected with those


    kids, how you were willing to help without asking for anything in return... I realized I need to be worthy of you. Not just im to


    love you, but actually show it."


    My heart pounds so hard I wonder if he can hear it. The fierceness in his eyes sends a shiver through me. I still think I might be


    dreaming, but I know I''m not.


    "We need to talk about what happens next," Arthur continues. "I didn''t mention your name in the statement, but it won''t take


    long for people to figure out who you are. You and Miles need to move back in with me where I can keep you safe."

 Chapter 159

    The request isn''t unexpected, but it still makes me hesitate. "But... Arthur, I just got the residency." I gesture around us, at the apartment I worked so hard to get, the apartment I only just moved into with Miles. "I can''t just walk away from that. And I can''t keep moving Miles all over the ce, uprooting him every five minutes."


    Arthur sighs, clearly trying to be patient. ¡°Iris, once your identity gets out, reporters will be camped outside this building. Photographers will follow you everywhere. People will try to get to Miles just to get a picture of the Alpha President''s son. It won''t be safe for either of you."


    I know he''s right, but I still resist. "What about my residency? This is important to me."


    "You can still do your residency," Arthur assures me. "I''ll have a security detail apany you to and from the gallery every day. But please, Iris. I need to know you''re both safe when I''m not with you.''


    His concern seems genuine, and I find my resistance wavering. But it''s all happening so fast. "I need time, Arthur. To think about us, about what happens next. This is... a lot." I sink down onto the armchair behind me, dragging my hand over my braid.


    "I understand," he says, and I can see him trying to hide his disappointment. "We can take it as slow as you need. I''m not


    expecting us to just pick up where we left off five years ago. But the security issue isn''t negotiable, Iris. Not anymore. Let me at least assign you a security detail until you decide whether to move in with me or not."


    I nod slowly. The idea of having bodyguards watch my every move doesn''t exactly fill me with joy, but Arthur has already told me


    how low-key his security team is, so low-key that I''ve only ever seen Ezra follow us around. I know it''ll likely be the same with


    us, so Miles and I won''t have to feel ufortable. And I need Miles to be safe, too.


    "Alright. I''ll ept the security detail. But I want to finish out the residency here, at least. Give Miles some stability before we make another big change."


    Arthur doesn''t look particrly happy about thepromise, but he nods.


    "


    ''Alright. But with round-the-clock security, and if


    there''s any hint of a threat, any at all, you move immediately. Deal?"


    "Deal," I agree, feeling even more dazed than before.


    "And the custody case?" Arthur asks, taking a hesitant step forward. "I''ve done what you asked. I''ve acknowledged you publicly.


    Does that mean...?"


    I take a deep breath, although it has a shuddering sound to it. I can''t believe what


    I''m about to agree to, but I know it''s the right thing to do. Arthur has met my demands. I feel like I can trust him more now. A lot more. "Yes. I''ll drop the custody case. You kept your word, so I''ll keep mine."


    The relief on Arthur''s face is palpable. He steps closer, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent. My body responds


    instinctively, leaning toward him before I catch myself.


    "Thank you," he says softly. "For giving me another chance."


    "Don''t make me regret it," I warn him, but there''s no real heat in my voice. We''re standing impossibly close now,


    that I could kiss him if I wanted to-and I do want to.


    +20 Bonus


    close enough


    But I don''t just yet. Instead, I grin and throw my arms around him, so


    overwhelmed with joy that I just want nothing more than to feel him lift me from the ground.

 Chapter 160

    Iris


    Arthur sets me down gently, his arms lingering around my waist. We''re standing so close I can feel the heat radiating from his


    body, see every fleck of brown that''s hiding in the depths of his green eyes.


    My heart is pounding in my chest-I can''t believe he actually did it. He announced our rtionship to the world.


    Arthur, noticing my expression, smirks. "You''re blushing."


    I bite my lower lip in a futile attempt to contain my giddiness. "Can you me me?" I ask. "This feels like a dream, Arthur."


    He looks pleased. "I''m d you''re happy. And now, I get to woo you all over again. Properly this time, without hiding or sneaking


    around."


    "Woo me?" I repeat with a delirious little giggle.


    "Absolutely. You didn''t think I expected you to jump back into hot water with me,


    did you? I''ve already got dates nned for us. I


    want you to know just how serious I am about this."


    "I...


    I swallow hard. "I appreciate that," I mutter. "I think it''ll be good to take things slow for a bit."


    He nods, but then his expression turns serious. "All I ask is that we make a promise to remain exclusive."


    I can''t help butugh at that. "I haven''t exactly been dating other people, Arthur. There hasn''t been anyone else since you.


    His eyes darken slightly, and something in his gaze makes my heart skip. I know we''re both thinking the same thing; that neither of us has been... Intimate with anyone else since the breakup, and how good it''ll feel to finally connect on that level again, after five years of wanting.


    But... all in due time.


    "Yes," I finally say. "I''d like to be exclusive."


    Arthur lets out a small, relieved breath. "I''m d." He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead that makes my heart flutter wildly in my chest.


    Suddenly, a small gasp from the hallway breaks the moment. We turn to see Miles standing there, eyes wide. "Are you and Daddy getting married now?" he asks,ing into the room and looking between us hopefully.


    Laughing, I crouch down to his level, brushing a strand of dark hair away from his forehead. "Not yet. But Daddy and I are going to start spending more time together. All three of us, as a family."


    "So Daddy''s living with us now?" Miles'' face lights up like it''s Christmas morning. "Or can we go back to the ce with the nice old people?"


    Arthur chuckles. "As much as Cliff and Augustine miss you both, you''ll be staying here for now, and I''ll be staying there."


    +20 Bonus


    Miles'' hopeful expression dims slightly. "So we won''t be a real family..."


    My heart sinks. "We will be," I assure him, ncing up at Arthur. There''s a muscle ticking in his jaw, but his eyes are gentle. "We already are. We just... need to figure out how to be one. But in the meantime, we''re going to have lots of family days together."


    we''re a


    The promise of family outings seems to satisfy Miles for now. He throws his arms around both of us, and for a moment, perfect little circle of arms and love and hope. I catch Arthur''s eye once more over Miles'' head, and the emotion I see there makes. my eyes prick with tears-but not in a bad way.


    Maybe we can really make this work. Finally, after five years of devastation and heartbreak and longing, maybe we''ve reached the


    end of the dark tunnel.


    "Now," Arthur says, standing up. "How about I help make dinner tonight?"


    Miles cheers, immediately racing to the kitchen. Arthur offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet effortlessly.


    We spend the evening in each other''spany, and the domesticity of it makes me feel like I''m walking on air. Arthur rolls up his sleeves and helps me chop vegetables, our elbows asionally bumping in the small kitchen space. He lets Miles give him tour of all his toys while the chicken is in the oven. He even sits on the floor, making Miles scream withughter as he points aser around the living room and makes the kitten chase it.


    It''s all so... normal. So easy. I catch myself daydreaming about what life could be like with Arthur by my side every day- mornings over coffee, quiet evenings after Miles is asleep, someone to share the burden and the joy of parenthood with.


    But I force myself to stay grounded, to not get ahead of myself. We''ve only just begun to rebuild what was broken. There''s still so much uncertainty ahead.


    ¡°Bath time,¡± 1 announce after dinner, checking the clock. It''s past eight, muchter than our normal routine. But I guess there''s nothing "normal" about today. "Can Daddy help?" Miles asks immediately.


    pat


    I nce at Arthur, who perks up at the question. "I''d love to."


    I lead them both to the bathroom and show Arthur where everything is-the bubble bath solution, Miles'' favorite rubber duckies, the special shampoo that doesn''t sting his eyes. Then I step back, and let Arthur take the lead.


    What follows is twenty minutes of pure chaos. Arthur, it turns out, has never given a child a bath before.


    He uses far too many bubbles, creating a mountain of foam that immediately engulfs Miles. Water sshes everywhere as Miles demonstrates how his rubber ducks can ''dive'' beneath the bubbles. The kitten practically bounces off the walls as some droplets, touch his fur, nearly knocking me over in his haste to scramble out of the bathroom.


    Arthur''s deepugh fills the space, a low rumble that turns into an all-out guffaw. I try to cover myughter with my hand, but I can''t contain it when Miles begins to giggle uncontrobly, and soon, all three of us areughing.


    My heart is so full it hurts.


    20 Bonus


    This is what we should have had all along, but I try not to think about what we missed, and instead focus on the fact that we


    finally have a chance to make up for it.


    I already know I''m going to paint this scene-Arthur kneeling beside the tub, Miles engulfed by bubbles, an angry orange kitten hissing in theer. Chaos and joy andughter. I think I''ll call it "Lost Time".


    Eventually, Miles is clean and dried off and dressed in his pajamas. Arthur reads him a bedtime story and tucks him in. I lean in to kiss Miles goodnight, but he''s already fast asleep, exhausted after all the excitement of the day.


    When we return to the living room, Arthur checks his watch reluctantly. "I should probably go. It''s gettingte."


    Inod, trying not to feel disappointed. It wouldn''t be right if he stayed the night right away. It''s better if we give it a little time. "Thank you for staying. For helping with everything."


    "It''s what I should have been doing all along,¡± he says, taking my hand.


    We stand at the door, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. Arthur brushes a strand of hair from my face, then leans in to kiss my forehead before he reluctantly pulls away.


    "Oh. Before I forget," he says, pausing by the door, "there''s a g tomorrow night. I''d like you toe with me." He meets my gaze, and I feel my heart flutter for the millionth time all night. "Our first public debut as a couple."

 Chapter 161

    Iris


    The following morning, I''m yanked from sleep by the sound of knocking at my


    door. Groaning, I roll over and squint at my phone. It''s barely past seven. Who the hell is here so early?


    When the knocking doesn''t stop, I drag myself out of bed, pulling on my robe as I stumble toward the door.


    I peer through the peephole and see an unfamiliar woman in a crisp pantsuit, nked by Ezra and another security guard. Is this my new security detail?


    The moment I open the door, the woman extends her hand with a bright smile. "Good morning. I''m the head of styling for the President''s PR team. I''m here to prepare you for tonight''s g."


    "I-what?" I blink at her, still half-asleep. I almost forgot I agreed to go to that event with Arthur, but I didn''t expect this. I nce at Ezra. "Arthur didn''t mention anything about a stylist"


    The Alpha President arranged for a full styling team this morning," the woman says, and Ezra shrugs, looking mildly amused. "May wee in? We have quite a lot to aplish before tonight."


    Before I can respond, she''s already sweeping past me into the apartment, followed by two assistants I hadn''t even noticed standing behind her, each carrying multiple garment bags andrge cases.


    "Wait, I haven''t even had coffee yet," I protest, but the stylist is already surveying my living room andying out her instruments.


    "This will do for hair and makeup," she says, gesturing to my small dining table. "We''ll use the bedroom for fittings. Is the child. home? We''ll need privacy."


    "The child has a name," I mutter. "Miles is sleeping. And I didn''t agree to any of this."


    The stylist finally pauses, looking at me directly. "The Alpha President didn''t inform you?"


    "He mentioned a g. Not aplete makeover at dawn."


    She checks her watch. "It''s hardly dawn, Ms." She stops herself, uncertain how to address me.


    "Iris is fine," I say, suddenly feeling very exposed in my thin robe and messy hair.


    "Iris," she repeats, her professional smile returning. "I understand this is unexpected, but you''re about to make your first public appearance as the Alpha President''s mate. The eyes of the nation-the entire world, really-will be on you. Every detail will be scrutinized, from your nail color to your posture. We''re here to ensure you make the right impression."


    The right impression. As if I''m some kind of political prop rather than a person.


    "I need coffee," I say firmly. "And I need to check on Miles. Then we can talk about... whatever this is."


    +20 Bonus


    To her credit, the stylist backs off. "Of course. We''ll set up while you gather yourself."


    By the time I return from checking on Miles, who''s still blissfully asleep, and brewing a much-needed pot of coffee, my


    apartment has been transformed into a mini salon. Lights, mirrors, and various tools and products now cover every surface. One


    assistant is steaming dresses while the other arranges what looks like hundreds of makeup products on my table.


    I pour coffee for everyone and hand the cups out. The security guard, a tall and muscr woman with close-cropped blonde hair and kind eyes, epts her cup with a formal nod of her chin. Ezra gives me a sympathetic look, but introduces me to my new bodyguard.


    "Nice to meet you,


    meet you, Emi," I say, shaking her hand. "I guess we''re gonna be close friends now."


    The bodyguard nods and says nothing. A woman of few words, I see, not that I''mining. And I''m d that Arthur hired at woman as my personal guard.


    "So," I say, clutching my coffee mug as I turn to the stylist, "what exactly is the n here?"


    The stylist gestures for me to sit. ¡°Hair, makeup, dress selection, final styling. We brought several options approved by the PR. department all suitable for a diplomatic g while allowing for your personal style."


    She nces at my worn pajama pants visible beneath my robe, both of which have paint stters on them. "Which is...eclectic, I


    understand."


    I take arge sip of coffee to avoid responding.


    "Look," I say, setting down my mug, "I appreciate that Arthur wants me to look presentable, but this seems excessive. I''m perfectly capable of dressing myself for a party."


    "This isn''t just a party," the stylist retorts. "This is your introduction to Ordan society as the Alpha President''s mate-the first human Luna in our nation''s history. The traditionalists will be looking for any excuse to criticize you, to prove that humans don''t belong in the highest echelons of our society."


    I want to tell her that I''m not even officially the "Luna" of Ordan yet, that Arthur and I are still... figuring everything out rtionship-wise. But it doesn''t really matter, does it?


    She holds out her tablet, showing me a news article from this morning. The headline reads: "Alpha President''s Human Mate: Who Is She?" Below it, there''s a grainy photo of me leaving the Marsiel gallery from the night I reconnected with Arthur a few months ago.


    In the picture, I''m wearing paint-sttered jeans and my yellow sweater with the hole in it, my hair messy from a long day of


    work


    "They''ve already figured out your name and your alter-ego, Flora," the stylist says. "By tonight, they''ll everything else


    about you, whether you go to the g or not. So it''s very important that we get ahead of the rumors and present you to them in the most positive light possible."

 Chapter 162

    I sink into a chair, realizing she''s right. But this is what I wanted, isn''t it? To be by Arthur''s side in public, to pronounce our love


    to the world.


    What follows is the most intense beauty regimen I''ve ever experienced. My hair is washed, dried, styled, and then restyled when


    the stylist decides the first attempt is "too provincial."


    My-face is analyzed relentlessly, with discussions about bone structure and undertones that make me feel like a science


    experiment. My eyebrows are shaped, my nails buffed and painted a neutral shade of pink


    The dress selection process is equally exhausting. Each option is analyzed for political implications. A red dress is "too aggressive for a first appearance." Blue is "too reminiscent of the opposition party''s colors." Green is "sending mixed environmental messages considering the Alpha President''s recent legition."


    I never realized clothing could be so politically charged.


    After hours of this, I''m starting to question everything. If a simple g appearance requires this much preparation, what would.


    this much


    daily life be like as Arthur''s mate? Would every outfit be scrutinized, every appearance nned to the minute? Could I live like


    that? Could Miles?


    By sunset-yes, it takes that long, so long that we all have to sto


    stop multiple times for meals and bathroom breaks-the transformation isplete. I stand in front of the full-length mirror they''ve somehow materialized in my living room, barely


    recognizing myself.


    My hair is elegantly styled in loose waves, pinned back on one side with a subtle diamond clip. My makeup is wless but not overdone, enhancing my features while still looking natural. The dress they''ve finally settled on is a deep emerald silk that flows like water when I move, cut to tter my figure without being too revealing.


    "Well?" the stylist asks, watching my reaction carefully.


    1 turn, admiring how the dress catches the light. "It''s... beautiful," I admit. And it is. Despite all my irritation with the process, I can''t deny the results are stunning. I''ve never looked like this before-polished, elegant, like I belong in the world of gs and


    diplomats.


    "The green is perfect with your coloring," the stylist says, clearly pleased with her work. "Sophisticated but with a creative edge. The silhouette works well for press photos, and the color photographs beautifully under sh."


    Of course. Everything is perfectly calcted for maximum media impact.


    Just then, a knock at the door interrupts us. Emi opens it, revealing Arthur standing in the hallway. He''s wearing a perfectly tailored ck tuxedo that makes


    him look even more handsome than usual, if that''s possible.


    He stops short when he sees me, his eyes widening slightly.


    "Iris," he breathes, taking a step into the apartment. "You look... incredible."


    20 BonuE


    Despite myself, I blush. "Thank you. Apparently, there''s a lot that goes into being presentable for the public eye." I think I''m


    finally starting to understand why Selina was-is-such a narcissist. How can one not be when they spend entire days at a time focusing on their appearance, and looking damn good afterwards?


    Arthur nces at the others. "Could you give us a moment?"


    Everyone, even Emi and Ezra, discreetly steps out, leaving us alone in the living


    room.


    "I''m sorry about all this," Arthur says, gesturing to the beauty station setup. "I should have warned you."


    "Yes, you should have," I agree, but I''m not angry. "Is it always going to be like this? Teams of people, every detail nned and analyzed?"


    Arthur steps closer, taking my hand gently, "Not always. Just for big events, important appearances. The rest of the time, you can be yourself."


    "Can I?" I ask softly. "Or will I always be the Alpha President''s human mate, under constant scrutiny?"


    His expression softens. "Iris, you''re beautiful with or without all of this. You''re utterly captivating just being you. Soon enough, the public will realize the thing I''ve known for years."


    My heart flutters traitorously in my chest. Damn him and his perfect words.


    He grins, sensing the shift in my demeanor. "Is Miles ready for his sleepover with Alice and Hunter?"


    "Yes. He''s very excited." Thankfully, Alice and Hunter agreed to be babysitters tonight, both refusing to take payment. I''m aiready thinking of ways to make it up to them.


    A little whileter, Alice and Hunter arrive, and it''s time to go. Alice beams at me, giving me a tight hug before I leave. "You''re gonna do great,¡± she whispers in my ear. "They''ll love you. And you look fucking hot."


    I hope she''s right. Even about thatst part.


    The drive to the g venue is mostly silent. I bob my leg in my seat, nervous beyondpare. I''ve never been this nervous attending any events as ''Flora'', not even when I had to give my presentation for the residency.


    Finally, we arrive at the venue, and Arthur opens the car door. The crowd erupts in cheers as he steps out. Camera shes light up the night sky. Arthur turns, extending his hand to help me out.


    I ce my hand in his, steadying myself as I emerge from the car. The noise is overwhelming-hundreds of voices all shouting at once, some cheering, some


    booing.


    But it''s the cameras that really hit me-dozens, maybe hundreds of shes going off simultaneously, blinding me.

 Chapter 163

    Iris


    The camera shes blind me for a moment, sending spots dancing across my vision. I freeze, one foot still in the car, my hand


    gripping Arthur''s.


    "Iris! Over here!"


    "A hur


    "A human mated to the Alpha President? Is this true, or a farce for PR?"


    "How long have you been together?"


    "Alpha President, what does this mean for werewolf-human rtions?"


    The questions just add to the dizzying atmosphere. I''ve never experienced anything like this before. I''ve asionally dealt with


    art critics and journalists, but nothing remotely close to this feeding frenzy.


    Arthur''s arm wraps around my waist, steadying me as I finally step fully out of the car. He positions his body almost like a shield.


    "Keep smiling," he murmurs close to my ear. "Don''t respond to any questions. Just follow my lead."


    I manage to ster a smile on my face as we begin our walk down the red carpet. The cameras continue to sh relentlessly. I''m suddenly paranoid about tripping in these heels, about a stray hair falling out of ce, about a million little things I''ve


    never


    "worried about before.


    It''s not just the press, either. On either side of the carpet, behind the velvet ropes, crowds have gathered. Some cheer and wave,


    but others hold signs with anti-human slogans.


    "Don''t look at them," Arthur says, guiding me forward. "They don''t matter."


    But they do matter. These are Ordan''s citizens-Arthur''s citizens. And a significant number of them clearly hate the very idea of


    1. me.


    The walk to the entrance feels endless, but finally, we make it inside. The grand hall is far more peaceful and elegant, with glittering chandeliers, floral arrangements, and waiters circting with champagne. The noise level drops dramatically as the


    doors close behind us.


    I take a deep breath, my first real one since stepping out of the car.


    "You okay?" Arthur asks gently.


    That was... intense," I manage.


    He grabs a ss of champagne from a passing tray and presses it into my hand.


    "I''m sorry. I should have prepared you better for


    what it would be like."


    "Would it have made a difference?" I ask.


    +20 Bonus


    "Probably not," he admits. "It''s something you have to experience to understand." He pauses, his expression turning serious.


    "Iris, if you want to be with me publicly, this is what it will be like. I hope you''re prepared."


    I bite my lip, not sure what to say. I know he''s right, of course. And I want to be prepared, but it''s just... overwhelming.


    "Alpha President!" A distinguished older werewolf approaches, nked by a woman who must be his mate. "So d you could


    join us tonight."


    Arthur slips seamlessly into diplomatic mode, introducing me to the couple. They''re polite enough, though I notice the male''s mate giving me a subtle once- over, her nostrils ring slightly.


    This bes the pattern for the next hour-Arthur guiding me through a series of introductions, each couple or group varying in their reception of me. Some are openly curious, others barely disguised in their disdain.


    Thankfully, a few, particrly the younger diplomats, seem genuinely weing. And I''m not the only human here, either. Just


    the only human mate to the Alpha President. I''m not sure if that makes it any better.


    I drink another ss of champagne, then another, the alcohol helping to take the edge off my nerves. The ballroom is stifling hot with so many bodies, and I''m starting to feel a bit light-headed.


    After about an hour, Arthur''s phone buzzes in his pocket. He checks it and frowns. "I need to take this. Will you be alright for a few minutes? I''ll be right back."


    "I''m a big girl," I say with a smile. "Go be important. I''ll... mingle or something."


    Once Arthur disappears into a side room, I decide to explore the ballroom a bit. The venue really is impressive-all marble floors and soaring ceilings, with historical paintings lining the walls. I pause in front of one depicting the founding of Ordan, fascinated by the artistic style.


    "Beautiful, isn''t it?"


    I turn to find a morous werewolf woman in a red dress examining the painting beside me. Her jet ck hair is swept up in an borate style, diamonds glittering at her throat.


    "Very," I agree. "I love the brushwork. You can almost feel the movement in the scene."


    She gives me an appraising look. "You must be the human everyone''s talking about. I''m Countess Vivienne ckthorn."


    "Iris," I say, extending my hand. "Just... Iris."


    She takes my hand with the tips of her fingers, as if afraid my humanity might be contagious. "So tell me, Iris, how did you manage to ensnare our Alpha President? Is it true that humans have certain... techniques that werewolf womenck?"


    I nearly choke on my champagne. Is she asking what I think she''s asking?


    "I, um, we met years ago," I stammer, feeling my face flush. "Before he was President."


    "Ah, an old me rekindled," she says with a smile that doesn''t reach her eyes. "How quaint. And now you think you''ll be our


    Luna?


    +20 Bonus


    The champagne has loosened my tongue. "I don''t think anything," I reply. "Arthur and I are figuring things out as we go. But we''re mates, and that can''t be changed."

 Chapter 164

    "If you say so." She sips her drink delicately. "Tell me, how do you keep yourself busy? The Luna must have many talents."


    "I''m an artist,¡± I reply, surprised that she apparently doesn''t know since everyone else seems to know every detail about me


    already.


    Her lips press together, as if she thinks art is a folly and not a real career. "I see. You know, Lady Selina has quite the green thumb. Her rare moon flower collection was the envy of Ordan." She pauses, watching me closely. "Do you garden, Iris?"


    ¡°I


    "Not really," I admit. "My apartment doesn''t have much space for nts." I decide


    not to mention that I''ve killed every


    housent I''ve ever owned.


    "Sorry, did you say apartment?"


    I take another swig of champagne. "Yes. Is there a problem with that?"


    Her eyes widen. "You mean to tell me that Alpha Arthur hasn''t provided you with a mansion yet?"


    "I don''t want one. Never asked for one." I shrug, "Besides, I recently got into a residency at Abbott Gallery, and-"


    "My dear,¡± she cuts me off, "if he hasn''t purchased a home for you yet, then.....¡± She gives me a pitying look, as if she sees me as a


    cheap whore whose mate can''t even be bothered to take care of me.


    I''m about to respond when a waiter approaches with another tray of champagne. Grateful for the interruption, I reach for a fresh ss, but my hand knocks against the tray, sending several sses toppling. Champagne sshes across the marble floor and, horrifyingly, onto the hem of her red dress.


    "I''m so sorry," I gasp, reaching for a napkin.


    she his


    She steps back, looking at me with pure disgust. "This dress is couture," she hisses. "Handcrafted by the finest werewolf artisans


    in Ordan."


    People around us have stopped talking, turning to stare at themotion. I feel their eyes on me, judging, assessing. The waiter


    scrambles to clean up the mess, waving me off when I try to help.


    "I''ll pay for the cleaning," I offer, my face burning with embarrassment.


    The woman lets out a musicalugh. "Oh, you poor thing. This isn''t about money."


    She leans in close, her smile still in ce but her eyes cold. "No amount of money can buy ss, darling. Or belonging."


    With that, she turns and glides away, leaving me standing there with a growing audience. I hear the whispers, see the sidelong


    nces. My heart pounds in my chest. I need to get away.


    "Excuse me," I mutter to no one in particr, setting down my half-empty ss


    and making a beeline for the nearest exit.


    I find myself in a hallway, following signs for the restroom. The women''s bathroom is mercifully empty when I push through the


    +20 Bonus


    door. I lean against the marble counter, staring at my reflection in the mirror.


    My makeup is still perfect, but my cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are a little watery. I look exactly like what I am: a human out


    of her depth.


    I ssh cold water on my wrists, trying to calm down. I need to pull myself together before going back out there.


    The bathroom door swings open, and three elegant werewolf women enter. I recognize one of them as having been part of the group standing near the Countess earlier. They stop when they see me, exchanging nces.


    "Well, well," the tallest one says, her lips curving into a predatory smile. "If it isn''t the human who thinks she can be Luna."


    My spine straightens. "Excuse me. I was just leaving."


    "Oh, I don''t think so," another says, moving to block the door. With a flick of her wrist, I hear the lock click into ce. "We want to have a little chat first." My heart rate picks up. "About what?"


    "About your... ce," the third woman says, her eyes shing. "Or rather, yourck of one."


    They begin to circle me, like wolves stalking prey. Which, I suppose, is exactly what they are.


    "That dress is wasted on you," the tall one says, reaching out to finger the silk of my sleeve. Her nail catches on the fabric, and with a quick motion, she tears a small hole. "Oops."


    "Stop that," I say, pulling away, but the second woman is behind me now, her hands gripping my shoulders.


    "Do you have any idea the damage you''re doing?" she hisses in my ear. "A human Luna would destroy centuries of tradition. The Alpha bloodline would be tainted."


    "Our blood is supposed to be pure for a reason," the third adds, grabbing another fistful of my dress. "Mongrels and half-breeds have no ce in our society."


    I struggle against their hold, but they''re much stronger than me. The tall one grabs the neckline of my dress, her ws extending just enough to slice through the delicate silk.


    "You don''t belong here, human," she snarls before giving a hard yank and tearing arge hole in my dress.

 Chapter 165

    Arthur & Iris


    Arthur


    I scan the crowded ballroom, searching for Iris. I shouldn''t have left her alone for so long, especially at her first public event as my mate. The call took longer than expected-a minor diplomatic crisis with Bo''Arrocan that couldn''t wait-and now I can''t find


    her- anywhere.


    1 spot Beta Ezra by the far wall and make my way to him. "Have you seen Iris?"


    He shakes his head. "Not for the past twenty minutes. She was talking to Countess ckthorn earlier, but I lost track of her after


    that "


    Countess ckthorn. Shit. That woman has one of the sharpest tongues in Ordan high society, and she''s one of Selina''s closest


    .friends. I should never have left Iris alone. The Countess probably ripped her a


    new one.


    "Arthur."


    Just as I''m about to send Iris a text, I turn to find Caleb standing behind me, a champagne flute dangling from his fingers.


    "Caleb," I nod curtly. Thest time we spoke was at Selina''s hospital bedside, and it wasn''t exactly friendly. "I''m surprised to see


    you here."


    He shrugs one shoulder. "Diplomacy and all that. With everything going on with Selina, I need to keep up a positive image." His eyes scan the room. "I notice your mate is here tonight. The human."


    I feel my jaw tighten. "Her name is Iris."


    "Yes, Iris," he says, nodding. "That''s actually why I wanted to speak with you."


    "If you''re here to criticize my choice of mate-


    "Not at all," Caleb interrupts, surprising me. "Quite the contrary. I find your... Iris... quite fascinating."


    The emphasis he ces on her name strikes me as odd. Something about his tone puts me on edge.


    "In what way?" I ask carefully.


    Caleb nces around, then gestures toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. "Perhaps we could speak somewhere more private?"


    Reluctantly, I follow him. I still need to find Iris, but Caleb''s unusual behavior has me curious.


    "I felt a connection to her," Caleb says once we''re away from prying ears. "When we met at the hospital. Something...familiar."


    I frown. "What are you talking about?"


    "It''s difficult to exin," he admits, swirling his champagne thoughtfully. "But when


    I scented her, there was something there. Something that reminded me of my own bloodline"


    I can''t help but scoff. "You think you''re rted to Iris? That''s absurd. She''s a human."


    "Is she?" Caleb asks, his eyebrows raising. "Are you absolutely certain of that?"


    "Of course she is," I say, but a flicker of doubt surfaces in my mind. The way she healed after the ident, much faster than any human should have-even with my blood. The doctors had been baffled.


    "She submitted a DNA test, you know," Caleb continues, watching me closely. "For our family''s search."


    This information catches me off guard. "She what?"


    "You didn''t know?" Caleb looks genuinely surprised. "Yes, she was tested the day before yesterday. The results haven''te back yet, but..."


    "But what?"


    Caleb leans in slightly. "The timing fits, Arthur. The infant switch would have happened just over twenty-six years ago. I''ve looked into the orphanage where Iris was raised-she was left there as a newborn, with no record of her birth parents. And then there''s her-your-son."


    "What about him?" I ask sharply.


    "A fully-fledged Alpha wolf born to a supposedly human mother? When has that ever happened before?"


    Never, as far as I know. Hybrid children born to human mothers typically show minimal werewolf traits, if any. They certainly don''t manifest as full Alphas.


    "You''re suggesting that Iris might be..." I can''t even finish the thought. It''s too oundish.


    "The missing Willford heir? Yes, I am." Caleb''s expression is dead serious. ¡°I believe my sister-my real sister by blood-has been living as a human her entire life, with no knowledge of her true nature."


    I shake my head, trying to process this. "If Irls were a werewolf, she would know by now."


    "Not necessarily," Caleb counters, giving me a meaningful look.


    Before I can respond, a strange sensation ripples through my mind. A soft voice- Iris''s voice-echoing inside my head. It''s quiet, almost too quiet to hear, but it''s there.


    "Arthur! Help!"


    I freeze. That was definitely Iris, but it can''t be. Humans can''t Mindlink. It''s


    biologically impossible. Only werewolves have the neural pathways necessary for telepathicmunication with their mates.


    But right now, that doesn''t matter. Iris is clearly in distress.


    I have to find her.


    20 Bonus


    Tris


    The tall she-wolf yanks hard on my dress, tearing arge hole right down the front. The silk gives way easily under her extended ws, exposing my skin. One centimeter further, and she would tear right into my flesh.


    "Stop it!" I cry, trying to pull away, but the woman behind me has a vise-like grip on my shoulders.

 Chapter 166

    "Why should we?" she hisses in my ear. "You don''t belong here. You don''t belong with him."


    "It doesn''t matter what you think," I say, struggling against her hold. "We''re mates."


    This earns me a harshugh from the third woman, who circles to face me. "Mates? A human can''t truly mate with a werewolf. It''s just a pale imitation of the real thing."


    "Poor Alpha President," the tall one says with mock sympathy. "Trapped with a weak little human when he could have had a proper werewolf mate. One who could actually bear him strong Alpha children."


    "My son is an Alpha," I snap, anger momentarily overriding my fear.


    "A fluke," the woman behind me dismisses. "Or a lie. No human mother has ever birthed a true Alpha."


    The tall one reaches for my dress again, this time going for the bodice. I twist desperately, trying to evade her ws, but I''m no match for werewolf strength and reflexes. The delicate material parts easily, the tear extending down to my waist.


    "Such a shame," she drawls. "This dress was wasted on you anyway. You can''t even walk in it properly." She emphasizes her point by shoving me hard, and I stumble back against the bathroom counter.


    I manage to catch myself, but the impact sends a sharp pain through my hip. "What did I ever do to you?" I demand, struggling hold what''s left of my dress against my body.


    "You existed," the third one says simply. "Your very presence here is an insult to werewolf tradition. The Alpha President needs a proper Luna, not some human charity case."


    The tall one moves closer, her ws extending again. "Maybe we should give him a reason to reconsider his choice."


    Fear spikes through me as I realize she''s not just talking about ruining my dress anymore. I nce desperately at the locked door. It''s solid wood, and too far from the main hall, where the party is still in full swing-no one would hear me over the music and voices if I screamed.


    "He won''t want you after we''re done," the one behind me breathes, her ws nearly digging into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. "Not when we mark that pretty face."


    Ish out instinctively, driving my elbow back into the stomach of the woman holding me. She grunts in surprise, her grip loosening just enough for me to twist away. But the tall one is already moving, impossibly fast. Her ws catch the side of my arm, leaving burning lines of pain in their wake.


    I cry out, stumbling back against the wall. The three of them close in. The tall one grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back painfully to expose my throat.


    "Hold her still," shemands the others. "Let''s see what the Alpha President thinks of his human pet when we''re done with her."


    +20 Bonus


    I struggle, kick, scratch, but it''s no use. Their werewolf strength is overwhelming. The tall one brings her ws toward my face, and I squeeze my eyes shut.


    In desperation, I do the only thing I can think of-I call out to Arthur in my mind,


    the way I''ve seen himmunicate with Ezra. It''s ridiculous, I know. I''m human. There''s no way he can hear me. But I''m out of options.


    "Arthur! Help!"


    The ws graze my cheek, not deep, but enough to sting. A warning. A promise.


    "Stop squirming," the tall one growls, her grip tightening painfully in my hair. "This will hurt less if you hold still."


    I want to spit in her face, to tell her I''m not afraid, but that would be a lie. I am afraid. I''m terrified.


    They''ve managed to tear most of my dress to shreds. The beautiful emerald silk that made me feel so pretty just hours ago now hangs in tatters around me, leaving me exposed and humiliated, which I suppose is exactly what they wanted,


    The one who had been holding my shoulders now grabs my arms, pinning them against the wall behind me. The third woman moves to help her, effectively immobilizing me as the tall one raises her ws again.


    "Let''s start with something subtle," she purrs. "Something that won''t heal properly, even with werewolf medicine."


    I brace myself for the pain, for the feeling of ws cutting into my skin. But before she can strike, a tremendous crash shakes the bathroom door. The three women freeze, heads turning toward the sound.


    Another crash, and the door visibly splinters. One more, and it bursts from its hinges, crashing inward and ttering to the floor in several pieces.


    And there, filling the doorway, eyes zing red with fury, is Arthur.

 Chapter 167

    Iris


    The three women freeze. The tall one releases my hair so quickly I nearly stumble from the loss of her grip.


    "Alpha President," she starts, her voice suddenly sickly sweet, "we were just-"


    "Silence," Arthur growls, and the cold sound ofmand in his voice is so powerful that I feel it vibrate through my bones.


    In an instant, security guards flood the bathroom and converge on the women.


    "Take them," Arthurmands, not even looking at the guards. His eyes are fixed on me, a mixture of fury and concern darkening them to a blood-red.


    The three women protest as they''re dragged away. I try to hold the tatters of my dress together, but it''s hopeless. The beautiful emerald silk hangs in strips, exposing far more skin than it covers.


    And then I notice something worse. Behind Arthur, beyond the broken door, I can see shes. Camera shes.


    "Arthur," I choke out, "the photographers-"


    He turns his head, following my gaze. His expression darkens further when he spots the paparazzi who have gathered in the hallway, cameras aimed directly at me. The story of the Alpha President''s human mate being assaulted in the bathroom was too juicy to pass up, apparently.


    Without hesitation, Arthur shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket and wraps it around me. It engulfs mepletely, the fabric still warm from his body. He then sweeps me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as he carries me past the photographers.


    "Make sure they delete those photos," I hear him growl to the security team as we pass. "All of them. Now."


    The hallway blurs as Arthur carries me swiftly away from the scene. I press my face against his shoulder, mortified by what just happened. My public debut as Arthur''s mate, and I end up half-naked and humiliated in the bathroom. It couldn''t have gone


    worse.


    Arthur takes me to what appears to be a private office, shutting the door firmly behind us. He sets me down gently on a leather sofa and drops to his knees in front of me.


    "Are you hurt?" he asks, his eyes roaming my body. "Did they-"


    "Just scratches," I manage. "They didn''t get very far."


    Arthur''s jaw clenches as he examines the shallow cuts on my arm and the faint scratch on my cheek. His fingers ghost over them, barely touching my skin.


    "I''m going to kill them," he says, so quietly I almost don''t hear it.


    "You can''t kill them," I say with a weakugh. "Think of the political fallout."


    +20 Bonus


    He doesn''t smile at my attempt at humor. His eyes are still that dangerous shade of red, and I know that if I didn''t need tending to right now, he''d shift and tear the ce to shreds. "They attacked my mate. I should end their sorry existence."


    "Arthur." I ce my palm against his cheek, bringing his focus back to me. "I''m okay. Really."


    He leans into my touch for a moment, the fires in his eyes dimming somewhat, then pulls away to retrieve a first aid kit from a


    cab.


    Arthur opens the kit and takes out antiseptic wipes. "This will sting," he warns before gently cleaning the cuts on my arm.


    I wince slightly at the burn, but stay still, watching Arthur''s face as he tends to my injuries. His brow is furrowed, his movements. delicate despite the rage I can feel radiating from him. He''s beautiful like this-protective, caring, fierce in his devotion. It makes me regret all of the things I said and did when I was angry with him.


    "I''m sorry," he says after a moment. "This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. This is why I kept you hidden for so long."


    I think about his words as he carefully applies ointment to the scratches. Is this going to be my life now? Constant scrutiny, judgment, even physical attacks-just for being his human mate? Can I really handle that?


    "It wasn''t your fault," I say finally. "Or mine. Those women made a choice to be cruel. That''s on them."


    Arthur looks up at me, surprise flicking across his features. "You''re not ming me for exposing you to this?"


    I shrug. ¡°Would it change anything if I did? I knew what I was getting into. Well, maybe not exactly this, but I knew it wouldn''t be


    easy."


    He finishes bandaging my arm and moves to examine the scratch on my cheek.


    It''s shallow, barely breaking the skin, but his


    expression darkens as he cleans it.

 Chapter 168

    "They marked your face," he says quietly. "They were trying to-


    "I know what they were trying to do," I interrupt. "Make you not want me anymore. Make me too ugly or damaged for you to


    keep as your mate." Iugh bitterly. "Like your attraction to me is solely based on my looks."


    Arthur''s hands still on my face. "Nothing they could have done would change how I feel about you, Iris."


    My heart skips at the intensity in his eyes. For a moment, we just stare at each other, and I wonder if he''s going to kiss me. Part of


    me wants him to


    wants to forget everything that just happened in the warmth of his embrace.


    A knock at the door interrupts us. Arthur''s eyes sh with annoyance as he calls out, "What is it?"


    Ezra pokes his head in. "Just checking if you need anything, Alpha."


    I straighten up suddenly. "Actually, I do." Both men look at me in surprise. "I need


    a new dress. Fetch the stylist."


    Arthur''s eyebrows shoot up. "No, Iris, I''m taking you home. After what just happened-"


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± I say firmly, tugging his jacket more closely around my body. ¡°I''m not going home. I''m going back to the g


    "What?" Arthur looks genuinely shocked. "Iris, you were just attacked. Those photos-"


    "Those photos will be all over the inte by morning no matter what we do. And if I leave now, then those women and all the others who would have done the same thing in their ce would only win."


    Arthur stares at me like I''ve grown a second head. "You want to go back to the party? After everything that just happened?"


    "Yes." I lift my chin defiantly. "I wanted you to expose our matehood to the public. I can handle the consequences of that choice." I turn to Ezra. "I need a dress. I don''t care if you have to pull the stylist out of bed. Tell her to get me something."


    Ezra nces at Arthur, who''s still looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and is that pride?


    "Do it," Arthur tells him.


    Ezra nods and disappears, closing the door behind him.


    "You are the most stubborn woman I''ve ever met," Arthur says, shaking his head. But there''s a smile tugging


    mouth.


    tugging at one corn


    corner of his


    "You knew that when you mated me,¡± I retort.


    He steps closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture


    is so tender that I feel my body begin to rx, the faint tremor that''s been


    coursing through me finally slowing and then stopping entirely.


    The way he''s looking at me makes my heart race. He leans in again, and this time, I think he is actually going to kiss me. I want


    +20 Bonus


    him to kiss me. I want thefort of his lips on mine.


    But before our lips can meet, the door opens again, and Ezra returns, carrying a garment bag and a shoebox.


    "That was fast," I breathe.


    "Your stylist needs a raise," he announces,ying the garments out on a table. "Your stylist was already waiting in her car out back just in case of any wardrobe malfunctions. Had a whole other outfit prepared for you."


    wall Ezra."


    Arthur snorts. "Precisely why I hired her. Thank you,


    Ezra nods and exits again, leaving Arthur and me alone once more. The almost- kiss lingers between us, but my mind is elsewhere now. I unzip the garment bag, revealing a sleek ck dress. Simple but elegant-perfect for making a dignified return to the g.


    "You can wait outside while I change," I say, but Arthur doesn''t move. I nce at him. "Arthur?"


    His eyes are fixed on a bare sliver of shoulder that''s peeking out from beneath his jacket, which is still wrapped around me. Arthur has seen me naked countless times before, but it''s been so long since thest time that the very thought makes my cheeks redden.


    He clears his throat, and his voice is rough as he says, "You''re hurt. Let me help you."


    My throat bobs. "I''m fine, really. It''s just a couple of scratches-"


    "I''m not leaving your side for another second tonight, Iris." The tone in his voice brooks no argument, and before I can respond, he''s moving forward, closing the distance between us.


    I don''t argue or pull away as his hands gently remove the jacket from my body.

 Chapter 169

    Iris


    The jacket slips from my shoulders, falling to the carpet with a soft thud. I feel my face heat as Arthur drags his gaze over the tattered remains of my dress, lingering briefly on my exposed breasts, hips, and belly, but I don''t try to cover myself again.


    "The scratches don''t look that bad," he murmurs with surprise, his fingers lightly tracing a mark on my corbone. His brow furrows as he examines a particrly long scratch down my arm. "They''re healing already, actually. Faster than they should be."


    I nce down at my arm, noticing he''s right. The angry red line from earlier has already dulled to a faint pink. "Huh. That''s


    weird."


    ¡°Not for a werewolf," Arthur says, his eyes meeting mine. ¡°Humans don''t heal this quickly, Iris."


    My heart skips a beat as I realize what he''s implying. "I''m not a werewolf, Arthur. I think I would know."


    "Would you?" He picks up the ck dress from where Ezra left it, carefully unzipping it. "Caleb told me about your DNA test."


    I freeze. "He did?"


    "He seems to think you might be the missing Willford heir."


    Heat rushes through me as he gives me a loaded, almost disappointed gaze. I hadn''t nned to tell Arthur about the test-not until I got the results back, at least. And even then, I was sure they''d be negative.


    "It''s ridiculous,¡± I say, shaking my head. "I''ve never shown any werewolf traits. I can''t shift, can''t use Mindlink-"


    you call my name."


    "You used Mindlink tonight," Arthur interrupts. "When those women attacked you. I heard you call my name."


    I stare at him, stunned. "That''s impossible."


    "I heard you," Arthur says simply, "Clear as day. That''s how I knew you were in trouble."


    My mind struggles to process this information. Could I really have used Mindlink? The very thought is absurd. I''m human-I''ve always been human.


    Haven''t I?


    Arthur helps me slip out of the tattered remains of my dress. "Why did you take the test?" he asks, his voice a little softer now.


    I sigh, stepping carefully out of the ruined silk pooled at my feet. "At first it was just


    to donate to the orphanage. But then I started noticing things... strange things. The way I healed after the ident. The way I sensed Caleb somehow, like I knew him even though we''d never met."


    Arthur''s fingers brush against my bare shoulder as he helps me into the new dress, and a shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the chilly room. "Do you really think you could be a werewolf?"


    100


    +20 Bonus


    "I don''t know," I admit, turning around and moving my hair aside so he can zip the dress up the back. His fingers ghost across


    my spine, and I bite my lip. "It seems impossible. But at the same time... there are things I can''t exin."


    "Like how you birthed a full Alpha wolf son despite supposedly being human?"


    I nod, my throat suddenly dry. Arthur is standing very close, his scent surrounding me, familiar and intoxicating. "Like that," I


    whisper, and the wordse out as hardly more than a croak.


    "Well, the test results will tell us for certain," he says, his thumb tracing circles against my hip through the fabric of the dress.


    "But I have to admit, the evidence is...pelling. I would have done the same thing in your ce. I just wish you''d told me y


    were nning on doing the test."


    "I just decided yesterday," I reply, shooting him a look over my shoulder. "And we weren''t exactly on the best terms."


    "No," he agrees with a soft sigh. "I guess not."


    you


    I open my mouth to respond, but I can''t seem to find the words. His eyes are so intense, so focused on mine, that I find it hard to


    breathe. The electricity between us is palpable, crackling in the small space that separates our bodies.


    "You look even more beautiful in this dress than thest one," he murmurs, stepping closer so that his chest brushes my back.


    you


    "Although it''s a shame the other one got destroyed. Remind me to buy you more silk."


    Heat pools in my belly at his words. "You don''t have to-"


    Before I can finish, Arthur turns me to face him, and his lips crash against mine, hungry and desperate. I respond instantly, my arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands slide down to my hips, gripping tightly as he walks me backward until my legeL


    the sofa.


    We tumble onto it together, Arthur''s weight pressing me into the cushions. His mouth leaves mine to trail kisses down my neck, and I arch against him, a soft moan escaping my lips.

 Chapter 170

    "I''ve missed you," he breathes against my skin. "So much, Iris. You have no idea."


    I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging him back up to my mouth. "Show me," I whisper against his lips.


    sup


    His eyes darken further, and he captures my mouth again in a kiss that makes my eyes roll back with pleasure. His hand slides up my thigh, pushing the fabric of my new dress higher, fingers teasing along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh as his tongue slips inte my mouth.


    "I did all of this for you," Arthur murmurs between kisses. "The announcement, the g-everything. I want the world to know you''re mine. That I''m yours."


    "I know," I gasp as his fingers brush against the edge of my underwear. "I know you do."


    "I never meant to hurt you," he continues, his forehead pressing against mine. "Never wanted to make you feel like I was ashamed of you. I was trying to protect you.


    I cradle his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. "I understand that now," I say softly. "Tonight made that very clear."


    His expression darkens momentarily at the reminder of the bathroom attack, but I pull him down for another kiss before he can


    dwell on it.


    "I love you, Iris," Arthur says against my lips. "I love you. I love you so fucking much I can''t breathe."


    The words make my chest tighten. But before I can respond, his mouth is on mine again, silencing whatever I might have said. His hands grow bolder, sliding higher, and I gasp as his fingers finally make contact with where I want him most. Arthur groans, pressing his forehead against mine.


    I let out a soft sigh, a tiny smile tugging at my mouth as he immediately locates my favorite spot without even having to try. Five


    years, and he still knows my body like the back of his hand. "Right there," I whisper.


    That''s all the encouragement he needs. His fingers increase their teasing exploration as his mouth captures mine once more. 1 lose myself in the sensation, in the feel of Arthur''s body pressed against mine after so long apart.


    I''m just reaching for his belt, desperate to feel more of him, when a sharp knock at the door jerks us both back to reality.


    Arthur groans, dropping his forehead against my shoulder. "Ignore it," he mutters.


    But the door swings open then, revealing an older couple that I''ve only ever seen in photographs and news clips.


    My breath hitches as Arthur sits up, staring.


    Arthur''s parents. Leonard and Wendy.


    Wendy is tall and elegant, her silver-streaked blonde hair pulled back in a perfect chignon. Her eyes-the same striking green as Arthur''s-widen slightly as they take in the scene before her. Leonard stands beside her, slightly shorter than she is but insanely


    +20 Bonus


    built for an older man. His dark hair is shot through with silver at the temples, and his jaw hardens when he sees us.


    I suddenly realize how this must look.


    Arthur stands, his voice somehow steady despite what we''ve just been caught doing. He positions himself in front of me, body isn''t the most effective shield, "Mother. Father. I wasn''t aware you were attending tonight."


    but his


    "Clearly," Leonard says dryly.


    1 scramble to my feet, smoothing my hands down the front of my dress nervously. These are Arthur''s parents, and they''re seeing me for the first time right after I was nearly caught having sex with their son on a sofa, not to mention the whole fiasco in the bathroom that is probably all over the inte by now.


    Not exactly the first impression I was hoping to make.


    Still, I manage a wobbly curtsy. "It''s an honor to meet you. I''m Iris."


    Wendy''s eyes narrow slightly as they scan me from head to toe. "So you''re the human mate we''ve heard so little about."


    Her words make it abundantly clear that they''re not pleased about being kept in the dark until Arthur''s public announcement.


    "Yes, ma''am,¡± I say, fighting the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.


    "Hmph," Leonard murmurs, scanning me from head to toe like a cheap whore on disy.


    Arthur steps forward, cing a protective arm around my waist. "Perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere? Iris has had a difficult evening."


    "Yes, we heard," Wendy says coolly. "An unfortunate incident in thedies'' room. Everyone is talking about it. Although..." She pauses, ncing at me again. "I suppose you''veforted her just fine."


    "We have much to discuss," Leonard says then, clearing his throat. "Get yourselves... presentable and join us at our table." And with that, they both turn and stride out, leaving the door wide open in their wake.

 Chapter 171

    Iris


    "You''re sure you can handle this?" Arthur asks, his hand resting on the small of my back. We''re standing just outside the ballroom entrance, about to make our reappearance.


    I take a deep breath, smoothing the front of my new ck dress. It''s simpler than the emerald gown-a sleek, form-fitting sheath with a high neck and tasteful slit up one side-but the fabric is luxurious, and it makes me feel powerful somehow. Like


    armor.


    "Yes," I confirm, lifting my chin.


    Arthur offers me his arm, and I ce my hand on it, holding my head high as we step back into the glittering ballroom. The effect is immediate-conversations falter, heads turn, eyes lock onto us. I can already hear the whispers rippling through the crowd.


    "She''s back..."


    "I heard they tore her dress to shreds...¡±


    "Look at her, acting like nothing happened..."


    I keep my expression neutral, refusing to show any sign that the stares and whispers affect me. Inside, my stomach is twisting with nerves, but I won''t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.


    As we move through the room, I notice different reactions. Some women raise their sses slightl


    sses slightly in what seems like a gesture of respect. Others whisper behind their hands. A few men look at me with newfound interest, as if my ability to withstand an attack has somehow made me more worthy of their attention. But there''s onement that particrly catches my attention.


    "Seems like a publicity stunt, don''t you think?"


    My step falters slightly at that, my head swiveling to see who said it, but I can''t make out who it was. The suggestion that we would fake an attack for positive press is absurd, but I suppose I shouldn''t be surprised by the skepticism. Politics is a dirty game, after all.


    Diplomatically ignoring thements, Arthur leads me toward arge table near the front of the room, where his parents are already seated. I smile politely as Arthur pulls out my chair. "Thank you for inviting us to sit with you, Mr. and Mrs.-"I stumble. realizing I don''t actually know how to address them.


    "Wendy is just fine," Wendy says, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "And my husband, Leonard. We''re all family here, after


    all."


    Family. The word catches me off guard. Ten minutes ago she was looking at me like I was something she''d scraped off her shoe, and now we''re family? But then again, I guess the first impression they had of me wasn''t ideal, not by a long shot.


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    #20 Bonus


    "Of course," I reply, taking my seat. "It''s a pleasure to meet you both, finally."


    Leonard gives me a curt nod. "Quite the entrance you''ve made into our lives, youngdy."


    I''m not sure if he''s referring to tonight''s events or my sudden appearance as Arthur''s mate, but either way, I feel like I''m being tested. "Not exactly how I nned to introduce myself," I admit with a softugh, hoping that if they''re anything like Arthur, bit of humor will diffuse the tension. Arthur has never talked much about his parents, so I''m not sure what their personalities are like.


    "Few things in life go ording to n," Leonard says, lifting his wine ss. "Adaptation is key."


    I let out a small breath of relief. Seems like I was right to attempt humor.


    A server appears


    appears, cing tes of exquisitely arranged food in front of us. The first course is some kind of salmon tartare delicate herbs and edible flowers. I stare at it for a moment, trying to remember which fork to use. Arthur subtly nudges the correct one toward me.


    "So, Iris," Wendy begins once the servers have retreated, "Arthur tells us you''re an artist. How fascinating."


    Her tone suggests it''s anything but fascinating, but her smile seems genuine enough. I decide to take her interest at face value, at least for now.


    "Yes, I''m a painter," I reply. "I recently received a residency at the Abbott Gallery, actually."


    "Abbott?" Leonard''s eyebrows rise slightly. "That''s quite prestigious. You must be talented."


    ¡°She is," Arthur interjects, his hand finding mine under the table and squeezing gently, "You should see her work. It''s extraordinary."

 Chapter 172

    I feel a flush of pleasure at his praise. "Thank you."


    "And you


    have a son together," Wendy states, leaving behind the subject of my career. "Miles, is it?"


    I nod, dragging my lower lip through my teeth. I feel like I''m being grilled, one question after another in quick session.


    "He''s five," I say, then hesitate, ncing at Arthur. This is still new territory for us- discussing Miles openly as our son. "He''s...


    wonderful."


    "Do you have pictures?" Wendy asks. "I''d love to see my grandson."


    Grandson, Anotherbel that catches me off guard. She''s epting Miles as family, sight unseen. Somewhat touched, I pull out my phone, scrolling through to find a good photo,


    "Here he is," I say, showing her a recent picture of Miles at the park, grinning broadly with his stuffed shark tucked under one


    arm.


    Wendy takes the phone from me, studying the image. "Hm. He has Arthur''s eyes," she murmurs, passing the phone to Leonard.


    "And his stubborn chin," Leonard adds, zooming in on the photo. "Definitely an Alpha in the making.


    I notice Arthur shift ufortably beside me. "He''s just a regr kid," he says, shooting me a meaningful nce. I make a


    mental note not to mention Miles'' disability. Leonard and Wendy don''t seem like the most epting people. But they''re older, so


    I sort of expect that from their generation.


    "Here he is as a baby," I say, showing them a photo of Miles at about six months old, chubby-cheeked and drooling. "And this is


    from his first birthday."


    Arthur tenses beside me, and when I nce at him, I see a mixture of pride and something else that I can''t quite read shining in


    his eyes. My face heats as I realize that this is the first time he''s seen baby pictures of Miles. But there''s something else in his


    gaze, too¡ªa lingering tension, as if he''s hesitant to let his parents see our son


    Throughout dinner, Leonard and Wendy continue to ask nonstop questions about Miles-his hobbies, his personality, his


    development. I answer each one enthusiastically, surprised and pleased by their interest, even if they never seem very keen on


    getting to know me personally.


    "He loves dinosaurs," I say, showing them a picture of Miles at a museum exhibit. "And sharks. Hence the stuffed shark he loves."


    "A proper little scientist," Wendy says approvingly. "Intelligence runs in our bloodline."


    "He has his father''s quick mind," I agree, smiling at Arthur. But he doesn''t return my smile. Instead, he seems increasingly tense, his fingers tapping restlessly against the tablecloth.


    "And his abilities?" Leonard asks casually, too casually. "Have any... manifested yet?"


    +20 Bonus


    1 hesitate, looking to Arthur for guidance, but he''s taking a long sip of his wine, avoiding my gaze.


    "He''s still young," I say cautiously. "But he''s very perceptive."


    Leonard and Wendy exchange a look loaded with meaning


    It looks like they''re about to ask more when the dessert arrives-a mouth- watering cake covered in chocte and berries that momentarily distracts everyone at the table. Arthur looks oddly relieved by that.


    By the time the g winds down, I''ve shown Arthur''s parents dozens of pictures and videos of Miles. Despite our rocky start, I''m beginning to think they might actually approve of me¡ªor at least, they''re willing to overlook my humanity for the sake of their grandson.


    As we gather our things to leave, Wendy ces a hand on my arm. "When can we meet him? In person, I mean."


    I nce at Arthur, who seems about to speak, but something in me makes me answer first. "How about dinner this weekend? At my apartment." Arthur''s eyes widen fractionally, but I continue, "Miles would love to meet his grandparents, I''m sure. And it would be more rxing than trying to introduce him in a formal setting."


    Wendy''s mouth presses into a faint uptick. ¡°That sounds perfect. Doesn''t it, Leonard?"


    Leonard nods, although he''s looking at Arthur when he says, "Indeed. We look forward to it. It''s about time we meet our Alpha grandson."


    I turn to Arthur, expecting him to be pleased with my suggestion, but instead, he looks even more flustered than before.

 Chapter 173

    Iris


    Arthur turns to me as we pull up to my apartment buildingter. "They seemed to


    like you."


    "Your parents?" I ask, ncing at him. "Yeah, they were nice. Especially after that awkward first meeting."


    He makes a nomittal sound, staring out the windshield for a moment before turning off the engine. His profile is sharp in


    the dim light from the streetmps, his jaw tense.


    "What?" I ask, sensing there''s something he''s not saying


    Arthur sighs, turning to face me. "My parents aren''t exactly what they seem, Iris. They''ve always been very... politically minded."


    "Meaning?"


    "Meaning that their interest in Miles might not be entirely innocent. They''re shrewd Alphas. Always calcting, always nning


    ten steps ahead."


    I frown, thinking back to their questions about Miles, their eagerness to meet him. "They seemed genuinely excited about having a grandson. Is that really so suspicious?"


    "I''m just saying you should be cautious with how much you share," he says. "Particrly about..."


    His voice trails off, and I nod slowly, pressing my lips together. "You think they''ll judge Miles because he''s not..." I make air quotes with my fingers. "Normal''."


    Arthur''s eyes widen. "I didn''t mean-


    "No, it''s okay," I cut him off, touching his arm. "I kind of figured. But we can''t keep it from them forever. Everyone notices.


    eventually."


    He looks at me for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times, then nods. I know he''s not ashamed of Miles, though, so I don''t me him. It''s a sensitive subject, especially with people from an older generation.


    Arthur walks me to my door, his hand resting protectively on the small of my back. The memory of those same hands on my bare skin just hours ago makes my heart thrum. We still have so much to figure out between us, so many conversations to have.


    As I unlock the door, Arthur asks, "Would it be alright if I stayed tonight? After what happened..."


    I hesitate with the key in the lock.


    "For security," he adds quickly, mistaking my silence for reluctance. "I''d feel better knowing you and Miles are safe."


    decides


    The mention of Miles decides it for me. It''s probably for the best if we don''t take things further than we did earlier, but the idea of having Arthur close after everything that happened doesfort me. "Okay," I say, pushing the door open. "You can take the


    couch."


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    Inside, I find Alice asleep on the sofa, a book resting on her chest. Miles must be


    in bed already. She stirs as we enter, blinking sleepily.


    "You''re back," she mumbles, sitting up and yawning. "How was the g? Anyone kill you?"


    Iugh despite myself. "Almost. I''ll tell you all about it tomorrow."


    Alice gathers her things, eyeing Arthur. "You''re staying?" she asks him directly.


    "If that''s alright with you," he replies with a snort.


    She shrugs, shouldering her bag. "Your mate, your business." With a quick hug for me and a nod to Arthur, she''s gone, leaving us alone in the suddenly quiet apartment.


    "I should check on Miles," I say, setting my purse down.


    "Can I join you?" Arthur asks.


    "Of course."


    Miles'' room is dimly lit by his night light, casting blue shadows across his sleeping form. He''spletely sprawled out, legs going in opposite directions, one arm thrown over his head and the other dangling toward the floor. The nket ispletely discarded, sitting in a pile next to the bed.


    He looks ridiculous. And utterly adorable.


    As I move to pick up the nket, Miles stirs, his eyes fluttering open. "Mommy?" he mumbles sleepily.


    "I''m home, bud," I say softly as Iy the nket over him. "Go back to sleep."


    But Miles'' gaze has already shifted to Arthur, who''s standing behind me.


    "Daddy?" He sits up, suddenly more awake. "You''re still here!"


    "I am," Arthur says. "I''m staying tonight. Is that okay with you?"


    Miles nods enthusiastically, rubbing his eyes with small fists. "Can you read me a story? Please?"

 Chapter 174

    I nce at Arthur, who shrugs. "I''d love to," he says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "Just one story, though. It''s past your


    bedtime."


    I leave them to it, Arthur''s deep voice following me down the hall as he begins to read one of Miles'' favorite books. Something


    warm unfurls in my chest at the sound of the two of them together, and suddenly, the thought of moving back in together, into.


    our old apartment and finally being a family, seems far more appealing than it did yesterday.


    But this apartmentes with my residency. I need to finish it out, for my career and for Miles'' stability. We''ve moved around


    enoughtely. He needs some consistency, even if it''s just for a few months.


    And maybe... maybe this way is better for Arthur and me, too. If we''re going to try again, to see if we can rebuild what we once


    had, perhaps we should take it slow. Date each other. Fall in love again. It would be like a fresh start for our rtionship, a chance


    to do things right this time.


    Arthur finds me in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea, looking surprisingly domestic with his sleeves rolled up and his tie long


    discarded. "He''s asleep," he says, nodding toward Miles'' room. "That dinosaur book is quite the story."


    "It''s his favorite. He makes me read it at least once a week"


    "I can see why. Verypelling plot." Arthur moves to the sink, running water to fill a ss. The simple domesticity of the


    gesture makes my heart ache with longing for what we once had, but also makes my heart soar for we might have again.


    "Thank you," I say softly. "For wanting to stay tonight. And for reading to him."


    Arthur turns to face me, taking a sip of his water. "I should be thanking you. For letting me be a part of your lives, even after


    everything."


    The sincerity in his eyes makes my throat tighten. We''ve hurt each other so much, made so many mistakes. But standing here in


    my kitchen, with our son sleeping peacefully down the hall, I can almost believe we might find our way back to each other.


    "I''m going to make up the couch for you," I say, setting down my mug.


    Arthur nods. "I appreciate it,"


    I gather sheets, a pillow, and a nket from the linen closet, then work together with Arthur to make up the sofa. It''s slightly too


    short for his tall frame, but he doesn''tin. We say goodnight and I quickly make my way to my room before I can make the


    rash decision to invite him toe with me.


    In my bedroom, I change into pajamas and slide under the covers, my body exhausted but my mind still racing. The events of the day y through my head like a movie reel. It''s been one of the longest, most emotionally draining days of my life, but strangely


    fulfilling in some very unexpected ways.


    Eventually, I drift into a fitful sleep.


    I''m not sure how long I''ve been asleep when a noise pulls me from my dreams-a soft tter from the main part of the


    apartment. Blinking in the darkness, I try to orient myself. Another noise, this time the distinct sound of cupboards opening and


    closing


    Someone''s in the kitchen.


    My heart rate spikes as I jolt upright.


    now-maybe Emi fell ano


    What if someone followed me home? People know my identity duty and someone snuck in.


    Moving as quietly as possible, I slip out of bed and grab the baseball bat I keep in my closet-a habit from my years living alone with Miles. Better safe than sorry.


    With my heart pounding, I creep down the hallway, bat raised and ready. The sounds from the kitchen continue-drawers sliding open, something being set on the counter.


    I round the corner and yelp as a tall figure nearly ms into me.


    Without thinking, operating purely on instinct, I swing the bat.

 Chapter 175

    Iris


    The baseball bat connects with the wall with a sickening crack as Arthur ducks just in time, letting out a surprised yelp.


    "Holy shit!" I shriek, the bat slipping from my hands and ttering to the floor. "Arthur! I almost took your head off!"


    Arthur straightens up, his eyes wide in the dim light. "Were you trying to kill me?"


    ¡°I heard noises! I thought someone broke in.¡± I exin, pressing a hand to my racing heart. "I forgot you were here."


    We both look at the wall where my bat made contact. There''s a sizable dent in the drywall, with small cracks spider-webbing out from the center of impact. If Arthur had been a second slower, that would have been his skull.


    "I''m so sorry," I breathe, horrified. "I just... I was half-asleep and scared and


    Arthur startsughing. Not just a chuckle, but full-blownughter that makes his shoulders shake. I stare at him, bewildered by his reaction, until the absurdity of the situation hits me too.


    A giggle escapes me, then another, until I''mughing just as hard as he is. It''s been so long since we''veughed together like this, the sound almost unfamiliar but so, so wee.


    "You should have seen your face," Arthur manages between fits ofughter. "You looked like you were going to war."


    "I thought I was!" I protest, wiping tears from my eyes. The dent in the wall catches my attention again, and I wince. "Myndlord is going to kill me."


    Arthur follows my gaze, then snaps his fingers as if struck by inspiration. He moves to the living room, and it''s now that I notice the slight sway in his movements, the way his feet stumble a little. He returns a momentter with an empty picture frame-one I''ve been meaning to fill for weeks.


    What are you doing?" I ask as he positions the frame over the dent and hangs it on a nearby nail.


    "Vo!" He steps back, gesturing to his handiwork with a flourish. "Problem solved."


    I burst outughing again. The frame is hriously off-center, and it''s obvious there''s nothing inside it but a damaged wall, but there''s something so charming about his attempted solution.


    "That looks terrible," I tell him, stillughing


    "It''s avant-garde," he insists, grinning "Very postmodern. The empty frame represents the void in society, and the dent symbolizes the impact of authoritarian structures on individual freedom."


    "Is that so?" I can''t stop smiling. This is the Arthur I fell in love with-yful, ridiculous, quick-witted. Not the serious, buttoned-up Alpha President the world


    sees.


    Absolutely. I expect it to be featured in your next exhibition."


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    I shake my head good-naturedly. "What were you doing up at this hour, anyway?" A quick nce at the clock reveals that it''s


    almost three in the morning


    Arthur''sughter fades, and he gestures vaguely toward the counter where I now notice an open bottle of vodka-the very bottle I


    keep in the freezer for the asional mixed drink and a half-filled ss. "Couldn''t sleep."


    I frown. So that''s why he was staggering just now. "Are you drunk?" I ask.


    "Not drunk," he corrects, picking up his ss. "Just... lightly buzzed."


    I nce at the bottle-it''s noticeably depleted. "That doesn''t look like ''lightly buzzed'' to me, Arthur."


    Arthur shrugs as he takes another sip. "It''s the only way I can get any rest these days."


    "By drinking yourself to sleep?" I ask. "That''s not healthy, Arthur. We''ve talked about this." I step closer and take the ss from


    his hand, setting it down on the counter. "Why can''t you sleep?"


    He meets my eyes. "You know I can''t sleep without my mate beside me."


    I knew he was going to say that, of course. He''s already told me that he hasn''t


    slept properly since we broke up. It''s just... hard to


    hear him say it again.


    "You know I haven''t had a good night''s sleep in five years," he goes on. "Not since


    you left. My wolf... he doesn''t understand why


    you''re not there. He paces all night, trying to find you."


    My throat tightens. "There''s medication for that," I murmur.


    "Trust me, I tried sleeping pills," he says. "But they just made things worse. Weird dreams, sleep paralysis. Alcohol dulls my


    wolf''s anxiety enough that I can get a few hours of sleep without fucking up my bodypletely."


    I stare at the bottle, suddenly seeing it not as a vice but as a coping mechanism. A poor one, but still. "I knew you had a problem,


    but I didn''t know it was this bad."

 Chapter 176

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    He shrugs and goes to pick up the ss again. "It''s just how it is."


    I shake my head and move the ss out of his way. "No more of this tonight. You''ve had enough.


    Arthur pouts, actually pouts, which confirms my suspicion that he''s drunker than he''s letting on. "But how will I sleep?"


    The question leaves me taken aback. I know what he''s asking, what he wants, and part of me wants it too. After the events of


    today, the idea of falling asleep in Arthur''s arms is undeniably appealing.


    But it''s also dangerous. We''re still figuring things out, still rebuilding trust. Jumping back into bed together, even just to sleep, feels like we''re skipping some very important steps.


    And yet, looking at him-at the dark circles under his eyes, the weary slump of his shoulders-my heart aches. How can I send him back to the too-small couch when I know he''ll just lie there awake, missing me and drinking himself into oblivion?


    "Just for tonight," I finally concede. "You can sleep in my bed. But just sleeping, Arthur. Nothing else."


    I lead the way back to my bedroom, hyper aware of Arthur following close behind me. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, and for a moment, I want to continue what we started at the g.


    Even more so when he slips off his shirt and climbs into bed beside me.


    For a moment, we both lie stiffly on our backs, a careful few inches separating our bodies. This is ridiculous, I think. We were


    practically tearing each other''s clothes off a few hours ago, and now we''re acting like awkward teenagers.


    But then Arthur shifts slightly, his arm brushing against mine, and something in me gives way, I turn onto my side, facing away from him, and scooch my hips back against him. His breath hitches slightly in the quiet room as I press my back against his side,


    an invitation, just like I used to do so many years ago.


    "Hold me," I whisper. It''s more of a conamand than a request, and Arthur obliges without hesitation.


    He moves closer, turning, and presses his bare chest to my back. His warm, muscr arm wraps around my waist, his body


    curving to fit against mine like we were made for each other. Which, ording to fate, we were.


    The familiar weight of him, the warmth, the scent-it all floods my senses with memories. Hundreds of nights spent just like


    this, wrapped in each other''s arms, safe and content. My eyes prickle with unexpected tears


    We don''t speak after that, but we don''t need to. The rhythm of Arthur''s breathing gradually slows and deepens as sleep finally


    ims him. I stay awake a bit longer, savoring the feeling of being held by him again, before drifting off myself.


    I haven''t slept this well in five years.


    The following morning, I wake to sunlight streaming through the curtains and a small, bony knee digging into my back. Blinking sleepily, I turn to find Miles sprawled across the middle of the bed, one arm flung over his head, the other dangling off the edge.


    +20 Bonus


    He must have climbed in sometime in the carly morning, as he often does when he wakes up before me.


    Arthur, however, is nowhere to be seen.


    I sit up, careful not to disturb Miles, and listen for sounds in the apartment.


    Nothing. The clock on my nightstand reads 8:17 AM


    -notte, butter than I usually sleep.


    Sliding out of bed, I pad to the kitchen for coffee, still groggy and slightly


    disoriented. The events ofst night feel almost


    dreamlike in the morning light.


    I stop short, staring at the wall where the dent should be. The empty frame is


    gone, and the wall is smooth, pristine. No dent, no


    cracks, not even a mark to show where my bat connected.


    Moving closer, I run my fingers over the surface. It''s been patched and painted,


    the repair job so perfect it''s like the damage


    never even happened. Arthur must have fixed it while I was still asleep, somehow finding the exact shade of paint to match the


    rest of the wall


    I can''t help but smile. And suddenly, I think I''ve got an idea for my next painting.

 Chapter 177

    tris


    1 stand back, wiping my hands on my already paint-stained overalls, and tilt my head to examine the finished piece.


    It''s vibrant. Alive. The central image depicts a framed dent in a kitchen wall, cracks spider-webbing outward. Yellow sunshine


    spills across the scene, dust motes floating in the air, and a baseball bat leans against the wall beneath the frame.


    When did I start painting happiness again? Usually my work leans toward the mncholic side of things, all muted blues and


    grays with asional bursts of controlled color and light.


    But this this is practically on fire. I''ve already used up one whole tube of yellow paint getting the sunbeams just right.


    I check the time on my phone and realize I''ve been painting for over four hours straight,pletely lost in the creative flow.


    If I were analyzing someone else''s work, I''d say the artist was experiencing a significant emotional upswing. Or perhaps a manic


    episode.


    Which, I suppose, I sort of am. For the first time in years, I''m... happy. Genuinely, unexpectedly, blissfully happy.


    "Mommy?" Miles'' voice from the doorway pulls me from my thoughts. He''s standing there with a coloring book dangling from


    one hand. "The kitchen smells funny."


    "Funny how?" I ask, setting down my brush.


    "Like that time you fell asleep during movie night and the popcorn got all ck." My eyes widen. "The roast!"


    1 rush past Miles into the kitchen, where a thin haze of smoke hangs in the air. The oven is still on, and when I yank open the


    door, a plume of thicker smoke billows out. Coughing, I grab an oven mitt and pull out what was supposed to be tonight''s dinner.


    "Shit," I mutter, dropping the ckened roast onto the stovetop. I was so


    absorbed in my painting that Ipletely forgot about


    dinner. And not just any dinner-the special family dinner with Arthur''s parents that I suggested.


    The dinner that''s supposed to happen in less than two hours.


    "Is that what we''re eating?" Miles asks, peering around me.


    "Definitely not," I say, turning on the vent and opening a window. "Thank you for telling me about the smell, buddy. You did


    really good thing. Now go pick up your toys before Grandma and Grandpa arrive, okay?"


    Miles scampers off, and I stare at the burnt roast, trying not to panic. The apartment still reeks of smoke, 1 dinner, and


    Arthur''s parents are due to arrive soon


    I grab my phone and start scrolling through food delivery apps. There''s no time to start another roast, and I don''t have the


    ingredients anyway. Take-out is our only option, but it can''t be just any take-out. Not for Leonard and Wendy.


    +20 Bonus


    After a few minutes of frantic searching, I find a higher-end local restaurant that delivers. Their menu looks promising. It''s


    pricier than I''d usually spend on delivery, but this is an emergency.


    I select a grilled salmon with roasted vegetables, an herb-crusted prime rib, roasted potatoes, a seasonal sd, and some fancy bread. For Miles, I add a gourmet macaroni and cheese that I know he''ll actually eat. I add some desserts for good measure, a


    decadent chocteva cake and some fruit tarts.


    As I ce the order, I wince at the total. There goes a chunk of my residency stipend. But it''ll be worth it if it means saving this dinner, which feels strangely important. Not just for Arthur and me, but for Miles, too. He deserves to have a rtionship with his grandparents, and I want to make a good second impression after the g


    and With dinner handled, I turn my attention to the apartment. I race around opening all the windows, spraying air freshener, setting out candles tobat the smell of burnt food. Then I shower quickly, change into a simple but nice dress, and help Miles into the outfit we picked out together-khaki pants and a button-up shirt that makes him look adorably grown-up.


    "Do I have to wear this?" he asks, pulling at his cor.


    "Just


    for tonight," I promise, smoothing down his wild hair. Goddess, sometimes he really does look like Arthur when that one stray curl falls across his forehead. Although, for the first time in the five years of his existence, I don''t feelpelled to tame it


    out of sight


    The food arrives just as I''m setting the table with my nicest dishes. I quickly transfer everything from the takeout containers to serving dishes, arranging it all to look perfect. A few minutester, the doorbell rings.

 Chapter 178

    Emi, who has been stationed in the apartment hallway on alternate shifts with another security guard every day since the debut,


    has already let our guests in by the time I walk into the entryway.


    Arthur steps in, looking handsome in a casual sweater and cks. Behind him are


    Leonard and Wendy.


    "Wee," I say, stepping aside to let them in. "Please,e in.¡±


    Arthur gives me a quick kiss on the cheek as he enters, making my face pleasantly warm. Miles immediately attaches himself to


    Arthur''s leg, earning a fond smile and a ruffle of his hair.


    "Miles, these are your grandparents," Arthur says, gesturing to Leonard and Wendy. "My mother and father."


    Miles stares at the floor. "HL"


    Wendy''s gaze immediately looks appraising, although her voice is kind as she says, "Hello, Miles. It''s very nice to meet you."


    Leonard nods curtly. "Hello, young man."


    Thankfully, neither of them mentions his refusal to meet their gazes or the way he doesn''t say another word.


    I watch as they look around my temporary apartment, taking in the small living room with its secondhand furniture, the narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms, the kitchen visible through the archway.


    "It''s... smaller than I expected," Wendy finally says.


    "It''s temporary," Arthur exins quickly. "Part of Iris''s art residency at Abbott Gallery."


    Leonard and Wendy exchange a nce that I can''t quite interpret, although it doesn''t seem approving.


    "Would you


    ou like a tour?" 1 offer, hoping to move past the awkward moment. "And some wine? I have red and white."


    "Red would be lovely," Wendy says, handing her coat to Arthur.


    1 pour wine for the adults and juice for Miles, then lead them through the small apartment. There''s not much to see, honestly the living room and kitchen they''ve already glimpsed, Miles" bedroom with its dinosaur decorations, and finally my studio.


    "This is where I work," I say, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the paint- sttered floor and the chaos of supplies. The painting I was just working on is still drying on the easel. I can hear Arthur''s breath catch quietly behind me as he takes it in.


    "You''re quite...creative," Leonard says, peering at the painting.


    "Thank you," 1 reply. "I just finished that one today, actually." I nce at Arthur and add with a fond smile, "I''m going to call it "A Little Batty"." Arthur snorts softly into his wine ss, his eyes sparkling as he meets my gaze.


    "Very... cheerful," Wendyments, in a tone that suggests she doesn''t consider that a good thing.


    "I think it''s beautiful," Arthur says, looping an arm around my waist. "Your best work yet, I dare say."


    +20 Bonus


    Wendy sips her wine, her eyes moving between Arthur and me. "And how long do you n to continue with your little hobby after


    you be Arthur''s wife?"


    The question catches me off guard. I decide not to mention the fact that Arthur and I haven''t even had a discussion about marriage just yet. That''s between us. "I don''t n to stop. This is my career, not just a hobby."


    "Oh?" Her eyebrows rise slightly. "But surely you''ll have other responsibilities. Social engagements, charity work, eventually


    more children... The Luna of Ordan is a full-time position. And as a human, you''ll have to work twice as hard to gain anyone''s


    respect."


    I feel my spine stiffen. "I believe I can bnce both roles. Many women manage careers and families sessfully. Even human


    women."


    "Of course they do," Arthur interjects smoothly. "And Iris is extraordinarily talented. It would be a disservice to the art world if


    she stopped creating."


    Wendy''s mouth tightens almost imperceptibly, but she nods. "I suppose times are changing."


    I choose to let it go and instead move everyone to the dining room. As everyone takes their seats, I clear my throat.


    "I should confess something," I say. "I had a bit of a kitchen disaster earlier. I was working on that painting andpletely forgot about the roast I had in the oven, so I had to call in reinforcements." I gesture toward the kitchen. "If you''ll all


    excuse me


    for a moment..."


    I duck into the kitchen and return with the serving dishes, arranging them on the table. "Tonight we have food from a local restaurant. The ce had great reviews, so I thought it would be a good alternative."


    Arthur gives me an encouraging smile, but when I nce at Leonard and Wendy, they''re both staring at the food with disgus

 Chapter 179

    Chapter 179 Chapter 179


    Iris & Arthur


    Iris


    An awkward silence falls over the table. I shift ufortably. The only sound is that of the kitten racing around in the other room, ying with a bottle cap. Wendy nces at the cat with a wrinkled nose but says nothing.


    Arthur clears his throat and offers me a grin. "Everything looks delicious, Iris. Thank you for arranging this."


    I sh Arthur a grateful smile as I serve Miles his mac and cheese, then offer the prime rib to Leonard and the salmon to Wendy. They ept and take their seats, but I can tell they''re not particrly thrilled.


    Leonard takes a careful bite of his prime rib, chewing slowly. But Wendy merely picks at her salmon, pushing it around her te more than actually eating it.


    I can tell they''re both judging me, but I try not to let it get to me. Generational differences, I keep telling myself, as if the age gap can somehow justify their shitty attitudes. I normally love to cook," I say with a light smile. "Today was just an unfortunate ident."


    "Mommy makes the best pancakes," Miles pipes up. His fork scrapes loudly on his te as he stabs his macaroni, causing Leonard to wince. "With chocte chips and whipped cream!"


    Arthur smiles at me over Miles'' head, and the softness in his gaze settles some of my nerves. "She sure does.


    "Pancakes,¡± Leonard repeats, ncing at Miles'' te. "Is that all he eats? Pasta and pancakes?"


    "Miles is in a bit of a picky phase right now," Iugh. "You know how kids are." Leonard frowns. "A young wolf needs protein to develop properly. Especially an Alpha. At his age, Arthur was already eating rare steaks."


    "Miles does eat meat," I exin. "He''s just particr about it. He loves chicken nuggets, and he really enjoys the steaks that Arthur makes. Don''t you, Miles?" Miles nods, although the attention makes him blush, and he stares at his te.


    "If the boy responds so well to Arthur''s presence," Wendy says, setting down her fork, "it seems to me the logical solution would be for you to move in with Arthur permanently. Leave behind this-" she gestures around us- small apartment and give Miles the stability of his father''s home."


    I blink. "I have a residency here," I remind her. "Ites with the apartment."


    "Surely art is just a hobby," Wendy says with a shrug. "The boy needs his father. And it''s not appropriate for Arthur''s mate and child to be living elsewhere. What will people think?"


    "Iris''s career is important to her," Arthur says before I can respond. "And to me. We''re taking things one step at a time."


    "Still,¡± Leonard adds, "Wendy has a point. This ce is hardly suitable. It''s small, in a less desirable neighborhood. The Alpha President''s mate and heir should be living in better circumstances."


    A knot forms in my stomach. My apartment is small and temporary, yes, but it''s clean andfortable. I''ve worked hard to make it a home for Miles and me. To hear it dismissed so easily, as if we''re living in squalor, stings more than I want to admit.


    "It serves us well enough for now," I say, forcing another smile. "And the residency is a big opportunity for my career."


    "Yes, well," Wendy says with a tight smile, "I suppose we all have different priorities."


    Her implication is obvious: my priorities are wrong. I guess in her world, I should be focused solely on being Arthur''s mate and Miles'' mother instead of pursuing my own ambitions.


    Thankfully, the rest of the meal passes without too much of a hitch after that, mostly thanks to Arthur repeatedly shifting the conversation to lighter topics. I contribute where I can, but the earlier exchange has left me feeling off -kilter.


    "That was lovely, thank you," Wendy says as she sets down her napkin after d¨¦ssert. She hardly touched hers, just cut it up and moved the pieces around her te with her fork. What a waste. "We should be going, though. It''s gettingte."


    "Of course," I say, relieved that the dinner is finally ending "Thank you foring."


    Arthur walks his parents to their car. As they exit, I begin clearing the table, grateful for the moment alone to collect myself. The dinner was even more stressful than I anticipated.


    Curious, I''move to the window, watching as Arthur walks them to their car parked in the alley behind the gallery below. Even from here, I can see the conversation isn''t pleasant. Leonard is gesturing wildly while Wendy is seething nearby.


    I can''t hear what they''re saying, but whatever it is, it isn''t good.


    Arthur


    "What were you thinking?" Father demands the moment we''re out of earshot of the apartment building. "A restaurant meal, Arthur? For your parents?"


    I sigh, having expected this reaction. "Iris exined what happened. The roast burned because she lost track of time while painting. It was an honest mistake. Besides, it''s not the fifties anymore. The fact that she was even gracious enough to host you should be impressive enough.

 Chapter 180

    Mother scoffs. "I''m not impressed. Maybe if she weren''t so preupied with that hobby of hers, she could actually focus on what''s important: her family."


    "Painting isn''t a hobby," I counter. "It''s her profession. And she''s damn good at it. You saw her work."


    Father scoffs. "It''s derivative at best."


    "Like you know anything about art," I growl.


    "The ''art'' is beside the point," Mother cuts in. "That human is not fit to be your mate, Arthur. Surely you can see that now."


    I clench my jaw. "No, I can''t. Because that''s bullshit. She''s the best thing that''s ever happened to me, and I''m proud to say she''s my mate."


    "We could look past the fact that she''s a human if she only tried to do the right thing, but she insists on living in a shoebox," Father sneers. "Not to mention the fact that she feeds your son processed garbage."


    "A wolf cub who won''t eat meat unless his Alpha father prepares it," Mother says, shaking her head with disdain. "He can barely even look us in the eye, and he speaks so little and so simply for his age. That boy needs help, Arthur. He needs proper guidance."


    Anger heats my chest. "Miles is perfect exactly as he is. And Iris is an exceptional mother."


    "For a human, perhaps," Father says dismissively. "But not for an Alpha pup. He needs to be with his own kind, learning our ways. And if she won''t put aside her own desires for his sake, then you need to take initiative."


    "What exactly are you suggesting?"


    Mother and Father exchange a look, some silentmunication passing between them. I know that look well; it was a look I saw them exchange often throughout my childhood, and it always preceded some kind of ultimatum or punishment.


    Then Father turns back to me. "Take the boy," he says simply. "im Alpha''s Heir. It''s your right."


    I stare at them, momentarily speechless. "You want me to take Miles away from Iris? His mother?"


    "It''s for the best," Mother insists. "For the boy''s development, and for our


    bloodline. You can raise him properly, teach him to be a true Alpha. That human is holding him back."


    "No. Absolutely not. I would never-could never-take him from her. We belong together. All three of us." I spent too long missing Iris. I''m not betraying her. Especially not after I promised that I had no intention of doing that to her.


    "You''re thinking with your heart, not your head," Father says, jabbing his index finger sharply into the center of my chest. "This isn''t about your feelings. It''s about our legacy. Our bloodline has remained pure for twelve generations, Arthur. Do you understand what''s at stake?"


    "What''s at stake is my family," I counter. "Iris and Miles are my family. And I won''t let you or anyone else tear us apart."


    Mother''s face hardens. "Just as I suspected. That human has corrupted you. Made you weak. The Arthur I raised would never put one insignificant human above his duty to his bloodline."


    "Maybe I''m not the Arthur you raised anymore," I reply coldly. "Maybe I''ve be someone better."


    ¡°Better?¡± Father scoffs. "You think betraying your heritage diluting our bloodline with human weakness, is


    better?"


    "I think love is better than prejudice," I say firmly. "I think family is more than blood. And I think it''s time for you both to leave."


    Mother shakes her head as she turns to the car. "Consider what we''ve said, Arthur. That boy is an Alpha. He deserves to be raised as one. The human can visit, if she must, but his ce is with his father."


    "Go," I growl, warning in my tone. My wolf is just barely contained right now. An insult against my mate is an insult against all of us, and we won''t stand for it.


    Thankfully, my parents catch the hint; and despite the fact that they''re my parents, they know that they''re not immune to the wrath of the angry Alpha President. They finally get into their car, but not before they each give me onest parting re.


    I watch them drive away, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. Once they''re out of sight, I turn back toward the apartment building, lifting my gaze to Iris''s window.


    Just as I suspected, she''s standing there, watching. Even from this distance, I can see the glint of tears in her eyes.

 Chapter 181

    Iris


    I scrub the serving dish harder than I should, hardly even noticing as the scrubber leaves scratch marks in the ceramic.


    The dinner was a disaster. Not just the burnt roast-although that certainly didn''t help-but the whole evening. Leonard and Wendy might as well have worn signs around their necks that read "Your Human Mate is Inadequate."


    Every nce, everyment about my "small" apartment, every remark about Miles'' eating habits... it all added up to the same conclusion: I''m not good enough. Not for them, and not for the public.


    The front door opens and closes softly. Arthur is back.


    "Need some help?" he asks, appearing in the kitchen doorway.


    I shake my head without looking up from the sink. "I''m almost done."


    Arthur grabs a dish towel anyway and picks up a rinsed te from the drying rack. He starts drying it, falling into the familiar rhythm we used to have when we lived together. "I''m sorry about tonight."


    "It''s fine."


    "It''s not fine. You''re scrubbing that dish so hard you''re going to wear right through it."


    I sigh and drop the dish back into the soapy water. "I just... I wanted them to like me. Or at least not actively dislike me."


    "They don''t know you yet," Arthur says, but there''s something off in his voice, something hesitant.


    I turn to look at him, water dripping from my hands. ¡°What did they say to you outside?"


    Arthur''s jaw tightens. He sets down the te and towel. "Nothing worth repeating."


    "Arthur."


    He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in that way that usually makes my heart flutter. Tonight, it just makes him look


    stressed, which makes me stressed.


    "They think Miles needs more Alpha influence in his life," he finally says. "More werewolf guidance."


    I can tell he''s watering down whatever they actually said. "And?"


    Arthur sighs. "And they think I should... take a more active role in his upbringing."


    "What does that mean, exactly?" I cross my arms, water droplets from my wet hands soaking into my sleeves.


    "They suggested that perhaps Miles would be better off living with me full-time.¡± Arthur''s expression is pained. "With only


    asional visits from you.''


    The words hit me like a p across the face. "So they want you to take Miles from me."


    ¡°It''s not going to happen," Arthur says quickly, grabbing my hands. ¡°I told them absolutely not."


    "But they suggested it." My throat tightens. "They want you to use the Alpha''s Heirws against me. Remove the imperfect human mother from the equation."


    Arthur sighs. "Iris, trust me. It''s never going to happen. I would never do that to you-to us."


    I pull away from his touch, needing space to think. "They really hate me that much? They barely know me."


    "They don''t... hate you," Arthur says, but I can tell he doesn''t really believe it. "They''re just... set in their ways. They have certain expectations of what an Alpha mate should be."


    "And I''ll never live up to those expectations.''


    ")


    Arthur doesn''t deny it.


    I sigh. "What about Miles?" I ask. "Do they at least ept him?" I think that I could live with Arthur''s parents disliking me as


    long as they love Miles. But Arthur opens his mouth, then shuts it again, clearly struggling with a response, and I know that they


    don''t approve of our son.


    I lean back against the counter, suddenly exhausted. "Maybe this was all a mistake."


    Arthur''s face falls. "What was?"


    "Going public. Pushing you to acknowledge me. Miles and I were safe before, anonymous. Now we''re targets." I think about those


    women in the bathroom, tearing at my dress, their ws aimed at my face. About Leonard and Wendy, suggesting Arthur tear our


    son away from me. "Maybe you were right when you said it was best to keep us hidden."


    "No," Arthur says firmly. "I want you by my side, Iris. Publicly. Proudly. I''m not going back to hiding you away."


    "Even if it means alienating your parents? Your supporters? Having people constantly judge your choice of mate?"


    "Even then." Arthur steps forward again, and this time I don''t pull away when he takes my hands in his. "In fact, I''ve already


    taken the next step."

 Chapter 182

    "What do you mean?"


    "I''ve arranged a photoshoot and interview. For both of us."


    I blink at him, stunned. "A photoshoot? You mean... like for a magazine?" My mind flits back to all of the magazine covers with


    Arthur and Selina-the perfect poses, the pretty smiles, the wless makeup.


    Arthur nods. "Alpha Monthly. It''s the most respected werewolf publication in the country. We''ll get some good pictures, answer some questions. It''ll be easy, and it''ll boost your image. Controlling the narrative is extremely important this early on. We have to


    get ahead of the rumor mill."


    My stomach suddenly twists. "I''m not very good at that sort of thing," I mutter, staring at my feet. As Flora, no one cared about


    my life, only my art. That I could handle; I can talk about my art until I''m blue in the face. But having to sell my personality for the sake of not being despised... "You''ll be fine,¡± he says gently, cing his hand under my chin to make me look up at him again. "More than fine. You''ll be amazing. Just be yourself-the woman I fell in love with. You were like a phoenix rising from the ashes at the g, and that was all you. You''ve got a knack for public life without even having to try."


    I remember that moment-returning to the ballroom in my new dress, head held high despite everything. It was terrifying but also empowering in a strange way. "This could help with the public perception," Arthur continues. "And maybe, just maybe, even get my parents to see you in a new light."


    I scoff, but don''t argue, and he goes on in a gentler voice, "I''m not letting anyonee between us, Iris. Not my parents, not the public, not anyone. I decided to go public with our rtionship, and I''m not backing down now. It''s the right thing to do-for all


    three of us."


    He releases one of my hands to reach into his pocket, pulling out a small card. "The photoshoot is tomorrow morning. I''ve already arranged for the stylist from the g to help you get ready."


    I take the card, staring at the embossed lettering. Alpha Monthly. 10:00 AM. The address is for a studio downtown. This is really happening.


    "Okay," I whisper, nodding. "I''ll do it."


    Arthur''s smile is bright and handsome. He gently presses his lips to my forehead, then rests both of our foreheads together. "You won''t regret this, I promise," he whispers. "Things will get better."


    I manage a small smile in return, even though I''m still not fully convinced. "I hope you''re right.''


    })


    "Trust me," he says as he pulls back. "Just show them who you really are, and they won''t be able to help but love you."


    Nodding, I tuck the appointment card into my pocket, hoping his confidence is justified.


    The following morning, the buzz of my doorbell wakes me with a start. It''s so early that the sun is still rising, casting my bedroom in pale blues. That must be the stylist, bright and early as always.


    Pulling on my robe, I stumble to the door, opening it. Without so much as a greeting, she sweeps past me with two assistants and a veritable mountain of supplies. "Coffee?" I ask with a yawn.


    "No time. We''ve got a lot of work to do before nine-thirty, and the coffee will make your face bloated." She snaps her fingers at an assistant, who scurries off to the kitchen. I can hear the faucet running. A momentter, the assistant returns with a bowl of ice water to dunk my face in and arge ss of water, presumably to help flush out the morning puffiness from my skin.


    And so it has begun: my new life. Primping, prodding, and putting appearances above all else.


    But this is what I wanted. This is what I begged Arthur for.


    With a deep breath, I nod and settle into the styling chair. "Let''s do this."

 Chapter 183

    Tris


    My hair is swept into an elegant updo, not a strand out of ce. My makeup is wless but subdued, emphasizing my cheekbones and brightening my eyes without looking too dramatic. The dress is a conservative knee-length sheath in navy blue, with a matching zer that nips in at the waist.


    The stylist primps me onest time as we pull up to the venue. "Perfect. Very dignified."


    Dignified. Not creative, not unique, not artistic. Just... dignified. Like I''m attending a funeral for my personality.


    "The shoes pinch,¡± I say, shifting ufortably in the nude pumps they''ve squeezed me into. I''m used to ts or boots, not these three-and-a-half-inch torture devices,


    "Beauty is pain," the stylist replies with a shrug. "You''ll get used to them."


    I''m not sure I want to get used to them. Or to the heavy pearl earrings weighing down my earlobes, or the insanely tight shapewear squeezing my ribs, or the false eyshes.


    The studio is in a sleek high-rise downtown. Arthur is waiting for me by the door, handsome as always in an impable designer suit, although he''s wearing a baseball hat and sunsses to protect his identity.


    There''s no time for greetings as we''re ushered inside, but once the doors are shut behind us, Arthur removes his disguise and turns to me with a soft smile.


    "You look beautiful," he murmurs as I remove my own disguise-a silk scarf around my hair and a huge pair of sunsses. He moves to peck me on the cheek, but the stylist growls behind me, and he pulls away. Can''t ruin the makeup, of course.


    I do feel beautiful, I have to admit. Just... incredibly ufortable and not like myself at all.


    The photoshoot is set up on the top floor. As soon as we step off the elevator, a woman in a severe ck pantsuit approaches us.


    "Alpha President," she says, nodding respectfully to Arthur before turning to me. "And you must be Iris. I''m Vivian, head of PR for the Presidential Office."


    I extend my hand. "Nice to meet you."


    Vivian''s handshake is brief and businesslike. She then circles me slowly, taking in every detail of my appearance.


    "The dress is a good choice," she says to the stylist, who''s hovering nearby. "Conservative but ttering. But there''s a bit of shine on your nose."


    ¡°I knew I should have gone with the matte primer," the stylist mutters, digging through her kit for powder.


    I stand there, passive as a doll, while they fuss over me. Arthur has been pulled away, and theck of his presence at my side makes me feel even more vulnerable.


    Once we''re ready, the photographer positions Arthur and me in front of a neutral backdrop, instructing us on how to pose. It sounds simple, but somehow I keep getting it wrong.


    "No, no," the photographer sighs after the fifth attempt. "Your shoulders are tense. You need to look natural, like you''refortable with the Alpha President."


    "I amfortable with him.


    "Let''s try a different pose. Alpha President, put your arm around her waist. Iris, lean into him slightly. Yes, like


    that. Now, both of you look toward ine. Alpha President, chhup. Irls, chin down. No, not that much down. Just a subtle yes, there. Now smile. No, that''s too forced. Rx your mouth a bit. There we go."


    On and on it goes. Stand here. Look there. Smile more. Smil less. Touch his arm. Don''t touch his arm. Tilt your head. No, the other way. Suck in. Shoulders back.


    Be different.


    By the time the photoshoot is done, my body aches and I feel like I''m going to cry just from sheer exhaustion. And I''m pretty sure the photographer hates my guts.


    Thankfully, the interview is set up in a different part of the studio, withfortable-looking armchairs arranged around a coffee table. But of course I''m instructed not to lean back, to remain perched on the edge of the chair, legs crossed demurely at the ankles, hands just so, neck lo...


    Holy shit, I need a painkiller.


    "So," the interviewer begins, "the nation has been buzzing since your announcement, Alpha President. Tell us, how did you and Iris first meet?"


    Arthurunches into the sanitized version of our history-meeting when we were younger, reconnecting yearster, discovering Miles was his son. He leaves out the gritty details without batting an eye.

 Chapter 184

    The interviewer takes notes, then turns to me. "And now you''re raising your son together. How has that transition been?"


    "It''s been wonderful having Arthur in Miles'' life," I manage. "Miles adores him."


    "I imagine it must be quite the adjustment, suddenly being thrust into the public eye as the Alpha President''s mate and the mother of his heir. How are you adapting to your new role?"


    "I''m still figuring it out," I admit. "It''s very different from my previous life."


    "Yes, I understand you were living quite anonymously before. And now you''re poised to be Luna of Ordan. Quite the change! What aspects of the role are you most looking forward to?"


    "I, um, I''m taking things one day at a time right now."


    The interviewer''s smile doesn''t falter, but her hand jerks as she jots down my answer across the page. I''m pretty sure she''s changing my answer, because she''s writing a lot more than what I actually said. "And how do you see your rtionship with the Alpha President evolving?" she asks. "Are there wedding bells in the future?"


    Arthur smoothly steps in. "We''re focused on being a family right now


    The formalities wille in due time."


    The interview continues in this vein for what feels like hours. She asks about our favorite activities as a couple, about how I''m decorating "our" home (I don''t correct her assumption th


    I''ve moved in with Arthur), about my fashion influences, about my thoughts on werewolf-human rtions in Ordan.


    Not once does she ask about my art. Not a single question about my career, my residency, my creative process. It''s as if that entire part of my identity simply doesn''t matter here.


    By the time the interview wraps up, I feel like I''ll explode if I don''t of this damn dress.


    ex


    I escape to the dressing room as soon as I can, where I immediately kick off the pinchy shoes and begin pulling pins from my hair. I scrub at my face with some makeup remover wipes, turning my skin red and angry.


    When I chip one of the fake nails trying to unzip the back of my dress, I actually curse out loud.


    "Need some help?" Arthur asks from the doorway.


    I turn, feeling caught somehow. I can''t even speak. My throat is too tight, like the dress constricted my esophagus.


    Sensing my difort as if it''s his own, Arthur steps into the room and closes the door behind him. He moves behind me, gently unzipping the dress. His fingers brush along my spine, cool and steady, so much unlike my own shaking hands. It''s soothing.


    "I know today was a lot," he says softly. "But it''ll get easier, I promise. You''re still finding your footing. It''s always like this at first." He brushes his knuckles across my cheek. "And for what it''s worth, I think you did fantastic."


    I sigh, some of my frustration melting away as I look into his eyes. It''s hard to stay angry when he''s looking at me like that.


    "I just wish I could be myself," I say softly. "It feels like they''re trying to turn me into Selina."


    Arthur''s brow furrows. "No one is trying to turn you into Selina."


    "Really? Because I''m pretty sure this hairstyle came straight from her lookbook." I gesture at the remains of my updo. "And don''t tell me she wouldn''t have aced that photoshoot and interview."


    "Selina was raised for it," Arthur corrects me. "Trained since childhood to be the perfect political wife. I much prefer doing stuff like this with you than her, even if you''re not great at posing.


    11


    I can''t help but snort, even though the memory of the photographer''s ire makes me shudder.


    "How about this," Arthur says, his arms encircling my waist. "Let me take you out. On a real date. Just the two of


    1. us.


    Despite everything, I feel a small smile tugging at my lips. A date? Where?"


    "It''s a surprise," he says with a cheeky grin. "Just be ready tomorrow at eight."

 Chapter 185

    Iris


    "Careful, step up here," Arthur murmurs, his hand firm on my lower back as he guides me forward.


    The blindfold is soft against my face, blocking out all light. I''ve been wearing it since we got in the car twenty minutes ago, and my curiosity is killing me. Where on earth is Arthur taking me?


    "Another step," he says. "We''re almost there."


    I can tell we''re indoors now. The air feels different-cooler quieter. My heels click against what sounds like marble flooring.


    "Okay, stop here." I feel his fingers at the back of my head, intying the blindfold. It falls away, and I blink as my eyes adjust to the light.


    "Oh, Arthur," I breathe.


    We''re standing in the grand entrance hall of the Ordan National Art Museum-the most prestigious art


    institution in the country. Marble columns soar toward a vaulted ceiling painted with intricate murals. A sweeping staircase curves upward before us.


    And not another soul is in sight.


    "Where is everyone?" I ask, turning in a slow circle. The museum should be packed with visitors, even at this hour.


    Arthur''s smile is proud, "I rented it. The whole thing. Just for us."


    "You... what?" I stare at him. "You rented the entire museum?"


    He nods. "For the whole evening. No cameras, no press, no other visitors. Just you and me and som greatest artwork in the world."


    the


    I''m speechless. The Ordan National Art Museum houses masterpieces from across centuries and continents. Getting a private viewing is virtually impossible, even for the wealthy and connected. For Arthur to arrange this.... "How did you..." I trail off, still processing.


    "Being Alpha President has to have some perks," he says with a wink, looping his arm through mine. "Do you like it?"


    "Like it?" I let out a disbelievingugh. "Arthur, this is... this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."


    "Where should we start?" Arthur asks, gesturing to the museum.


    "Everywhere,¡± I say, already turning toward the Renaissance wing. "I want to see everything.


    >>


    We spend the next hour wandering through galleries filled with priceless treasures. I''ve been to this museum before, of course, but never like this-never with the freedom to linger as long as I want before each piece, never without the crowds and noise of other visitors.


    Arthur stays by my side, listening attentively as I excitedly exin the techniques used in the pieces, the histories behind each one, the inspiration I''ve drawn from a few.


    "I''ve never heard someone talk about art the way you do," he says as we stand before a particrly strikingndscape. "You make ite alive."


    I flush at thepliment. "It''s easier when I''m not being rushed or jostled. And when my audience seems genuinely interested."


    "I am," Arthur says simply. "I love seeing the world through your eyes."


    We continue our private tour, moving from Renaissance masterpieces to Impressionistndscapes, from ancient sculptures to modern instations. In one gallery dedicated to contemporary artists, I spot a painting by a former ssmate from art school.


    "I know her," I gasp, pointing to the signature. "We took figure drawing together. She always had this incredible way with light."


    "Maybe someday your work will hang here too," Arthur says, his arm slipping around my waist.


    The thought sends a thrill through me. "That''s every artist''s dream."


    We''re halfway through the modern wing when Arthur checks his watch. "Are you


    getting hungry? I''ve arranged for something special."


    "More special than a private museum tour?" I tease.


    He just smiles mysteriously and leads me to the museum''s central rotunda, a grand circr space dominated by a massive sculpture of the First Alpha Wolf of Ordan. But the sculpture isn''t what catches my eye.


    In the center of the marble floor, a plush nket has been spread out, surrounded


    by flickering electric candles. A pic basket sits nearby, alongside an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne.


    "A pic?" Iugh in delight. "In the museum?"


    "I thought we could have dinner with a view," Arthur says, gesturing upward.


    I tilt my head back. Above us, the rotunda''s dome is painted with a breathtaking mural depicting the mythological creation of Ordan. Werewolves and humans coexisting in harmony, guided by the light of a full moon. It''s stunning, especially with the soft glow of the candles below.


    "This is perfect," I whisper.


    We settle on the nket, and Arthur opens the basket to reveal an assortment of gourmet food-cheeses, fruits, crusty bread, chocte-dipped strawberries. He pours champagne into two flutes, handing one to me.

 Chapter 186

    "To new beginnings," Arthur says softly, clinking his ss against mine. I smile and take a sip. The champagne is crisp and cold, bubbles dancing on my tongue. I lean back on one elbow, gazing up at the mural again.


    "You know," I say thoughtfully, "I''ve always loved that this mural shows humans and werewolves as equals, building Ordan together. Most historical ounts erase the human contribution."


    Arthur follows my gaze upward. "The artist was ahead of his time." Heces his fingers through mine. "I hope to change that, you know."


    I blink, surprised. "What do you mean?"


    64


    He shrugs one shoulder, the gesture looking positively delicious in the crisp fisherman''s sweater he''s wearing. You and I are making history, Iris. Not that I chose to go public with our rtionship simply for that reason, but... I hope we can show the next generation that love always prevails, regardless of background."


    My face heats, and I lean my head on his shoulder without even thinking about it, like it''s the most natural thing in the world. "I hope so too."


    We eat slowly, talking about everything and nothing-Miles''test drawings, a book Arthur''s been reading, a new painting technique I''ve been experimenting with.


    But as we finish thest of the champagne, the sound of music drifts through the rotunda. I look around in surprise to see a violinist standing at the edge of the room. I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. "Arthur, you didn''t..."


    "I did." He stands, offering me his hand. ¡°Dance with me?"


    I nod and ce my hand in his, letting him draw me to my feet. His arm circles my waist, drawing me close. My hand finds his shoulder, and our other hands sp together We begin to sway, not followin pattern, just moving together in time with the music.


    y particr dance


    As we turn slowly across the marble floor, I rest my head against Arthur''s chest, hearing the steady thump of his heart beneath my ear.


    All the anxiety and difort of yesterday''s photoshoot seems far away now. The pressure of fitting into Arthur''s world, of measuring up to expectations, of being someone I''m not-none of it matters in this moment.


    Here, in the quiet beauty of the museum, with Arthur''s arms around me, I feel like myself again. And this feels... right. Five years in the making, and yet somehow the past five years of heartache makes this all the more sweet.


    The violinist transitions to a more romantic melody, the notes sweet and yearning. Arthur''s hand presses more firmly against my lower back, drawing me closer until there''s no space between us.


    "I love you, Iris," he whispers. "I never stopped loving you, not for a single day. I hope you know that."


    Before I can respond, his lips find mine in a kiss that makes my knees weak. His hand slides up my back to cradle my head, fingers threading through my hair as he deepens the kiss. I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck, holding on as if I might float away otherwise.


    Time seems to stop as we stand there, lost in each other. When we finally break apart, both a little breathless, I feel like I''m seeing Arthur for the first time all over again.


    We dance a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and whispers, until the violinist ys a final, fingering note and then bows before discreetly exiting.


    "We should probably head back," Arthur says reluctantly. The museum staff will want to close up eventually."


    I nod, although I wish we could stay in this perfect bubble forever. We gather up the remnants of our pic and head out.


    When we arrive at my building, Arthur walks me to my door, his hand warm at the small of my back. At the threshold, he pulls me close for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, filled with promise.


    "Thank you for tonight," I say when we finally part. "It was perfect."


    "You''re perfect," he replies, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "And there''s more of this toe. Trust me. I''ve got years of making up to do."


    His words resonate with me; there''s a lot of making up that I want to do on my part. I know he needs to leave-he has early meetings tomorrow, responsibilities that can''t wait. But as he reluctantly steps back, I catch his wrist, pulling him toward me.


    "Stay," I say, my gaze meaningful as I look up at him through myshes. "Stay the night."


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 187

    Iris


    "Do you want some wine?" I ask, locking the door behind us. The apartment is quiet, just the soft hum of the refrigerator and Miles'' nightlight spilling into the hallway from his partially open bedroom door. Emi was waiting for us when we arrived, and quickly left once she saw Arthur enter behind me. I appreciate the way she gives me privacy without even having to ask.


    Arthur shrugs out of his jacket. "Sure. Whatever you''re having."


    I pad to the kitchen, barefoot now after kicking off my heels at the door. I can feel Arthur''s eyes on me as I reach for two sses


    from the cab and fill them with red wine.


    We settle on the couch with our drinks, so close our bodies touch. Arthur''s arm extends along the back of the sofa, his fingertips just brushing my shoulder. I curl my legs up under my body, and the way his eyes flit to my thighs squeezed


    beneath my ck mini skirt isn''t lost on me.


    But I''m looking, too. Unabashedly, might I add.


    The warm light from the tablemp catches his profile, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He removed his sweater at some point, revealing a crisp white t-shirt tucked into his ck trousers. The shirt perfectly hugs his muscr


    frame, biceps straining against the sleeves.


    Something stirs in me as I look at him-not just desire, but inspiration.


    "Don''t move," I say suddenly, setting down my wine ss.


    Arthur freezes, eyebrows raised. "What?"


    "Just... stay exactly like that." I grab my sketchbook from the coffee table and a pencil from the end table drawer. "The light is perfect."


    Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he settles back into position, a smile ying at the corner of his mouth. "You want to draw me? Again?"


    I nod, and for several minutes, there''s only the soft scratch of pencil on paper. I work quickly, wanting to capture this moment before it slips away, although it''s not easy to focus when he looks so damn good, both in person and on paper.


    My voice grows husky as I cheekily suggest, "Remove your shirt.''


    Arthur''s eyes widen.


    "Anatomy practice," I say, although we both know it''s more than that.


    Arthur holds my gaze as he reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over


    his head in one fluid motion. My breath catches


    at the sight of his bare chest-familiar territory, yet somehow new again.


    Five years have only enhanced his physique, adding definition to his already impressive muscles. I don''t know how he finds the time to work out with his busy schedule, not that I''mining.


    My pencil moves more hesitantly now, tracing the broad expanse of his shoulders, the contours of his chest, the ridges of his


    abdomen. I''m acutely aware of the shift in the air between us, the shift that I created.


    After a few more minutes of sketching, Arthur rises from his spot and moves behind me, looking over my shoulder at the drawing. His bare chest presses against my back, his warmth seeping through my thin blouse. I bite my lip, a familiar heat forming between my thighs.


    "What do you think?" I ask, cringing at how small my voice sounds.


    "Beautiful."


    I turn my head to look at him, and our faces are inches apart. He''s not referring to the sketch; he''s talking about me. There''s a moment of suspended time, and then his lips are on mine. My sketchbook falls forgotten to the floor as I turn fully ande to a kneeling position on the sofa.


    Arthur''s hands slide down to my hips, lifting me easily up and over the back of the sofa. I wrap my legs around his waist as he


    carries me toward the bedroom. He kicks the door closed behind us with his foot, then gently lowers me onto the bed.


    Moonlight streams through the partly opened curtains, casting silver across the rumpled bedding. Arthur positions himself over me, his eyes dark with need. I don''t hesitate to pull him down to me, capturing his mouth again, and his low groan of pleasure


    rumbles through my throat.


    My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as our tongues slide against each other. I can feel his hardness pressing against


    me through our clothes, and I arch up instinctively, seeking more contact.


    Arthur groans again, louder this time, but then remembers our sleeping child


    down the hall and muffles the sound against my


    neck. His lips trail down my throat, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin there. I bite my lip to stay quiet.


    "Too many clothes," I whisper, tugging at the buttons of my blouse.


    Arthur takes over, his fingers deftly unfastening each button before sliding the


    fabric from my shoulders. His eyes darken further


    at the sight of myce bra, ck against my pale skin.


    "You''re even more beautiful than I remembered," he murmurs, bending to press a kiss to the swell of my breast just above the


    I reach behind me to unhook my bra, letting it fall away. Arthur''s hands


    immediately cup my breasts, thumbs grazing over my


    nipples until they harden into tight peaks. He lowers his head, taking one sensitive bud into his mouth, and I have to stifle


    another moan.


    I work at his belt, then the button and zipper of his pants. I push them down his hips along with his boxer briefs, freeing his


    erection. My fingers wrap around his familiar length, stroking slowly. I almost forgot how considerable his member is. Almost.


    But not quite.

 Chapter 188

    "I want to taste you," I whisper, pushing him gently onto his back.


    Arthur''s eyes fly open, watching as I move down his body, cing open-mouthed kisses along his chest and stomach. When I take him into my mouth, his hand flies to my hair, fingers tangling in the strands.


    I remember what he likes-the swirl of my tongue, the suction, the right amount of pressure. His breathing grows ragged as I work him, slow at first then faster, deeper, until he hits the back of my throat. When his hips start to buck involuntarily, I pull back, not wanting things to end too soon.


    Arthur wastes no time flipping our positions, pinning me beneath him. He kisses his way down my body, lingering at my breasts before continuing lower.


    When he reaches the apex of my thighs, the first touch of his tongue has me grabbing my pillow and thrusting it over my face to muffle my cry.


    Just as I knew him, he knows exactly how much pressure to use, where to focus his attention, when to slide his fingers inside of me. I''m writhing beneath him in minutes, my hand fisted in the sheets.


    Just as I''m about to break, he pulls back, crawling up my body to kiss me deeply. I can taste myself on his lips.


    He positions himself between my thighs, the tip of him teasing my entrance. Then, our eyes lock as he pushes forward slowly, filling me inch by inch until he''s fully seated inside of me. We both freeze for a moment, gasping at the familiar sensation of our bodies locking together.


    I begin to rock my hips, and Arthur groans softly, matching my movements. My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him deeper.


    After a few minutes, Arthur sits back on his heels, pulling me up to straddle hisp. In this position, he hits a spot inside me that makes my head fall back in pleasure, the same position he''s made mee in hundreds-no, maybe even thousands-of times before. His mouth finds my nipple again, sucking gently as I begin to ride him.


    My fingers dig into his shoulders as we move together, our bodies finding that perfect rhythm we once knew so well. His hands guide my hips, setting a pace that soon has us both breathing heavily, fighting to keep quiet.


    "I''ve missed you," Arthur whispers against my throat. "Missed this. Missed us."


    "Me too," I gasp, feeling the tension building low in my belly. I know it''s only minutes before I''ll reach the edge, a sensation that I''ve never been able to replicate properly without him. "So much."


    Our movements grow more urgent, the need for release driving us faster, harder. Arthur''s hand slips between us, his thumb finding my clit and circling it in time with our thrusts.


    "Come for me, Iris," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine. "I want to feel you tighten around my cock while youe."


    His words push me over the edge. My climax is intense and earth-shattering, and I have to bury my face in Arthur''s neck to


    muffle my cries. As my pussy clenches around him, Arthur follows me over, making no effort to hide onest low growl as he pulses inside of me.


    And in that moment, something strange happens. A sensation unlike anything I''ve ever felt before washes over me-a surge of


    raw, primal energy that seems to flow from Arthur into me, from me back into him, creating a circuit of power between us. It''s


    like our souls are touching, twining together in ways that transcend the physical.


    The feeling is so intense it''s almost frightening. Like being struck by lightning, and somehow, I feel an intense need to bite.


    And I do. My lips close around his neck, biting down so hard that I hear him hiss with pain and surprise and even pleasure. When I


    pull back, I haven''t drawn blood, but there''s a distinct bite mark from my canines on his neck.


    "Sorry," I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "I don''t know what came over me."


    Arthur is smirking, but there''s a meaningful look in his eyes that makes my breath catch. Could it be...? My mind flickers back to the DNA test, to all of the other strange things that have caught my attentiontely.


    But the sensation quickly ebbs away, my mind too tired to draw connections right now. If Arthur had the same thoughts, then he


    doesn''t mention them.


    We stay like that for long moments, still joined, heartbeats gradually slowing. Eventually, Arthurys me down gently on the bed, pulling out of me. My legs tremble, hardly holding me upright as I make my way to the bathroom.


    After, we slide into bed together in nothing but our underwear. I curl against him instinctively, my head finding that perfect spot on his chest, my arm draped across his abdomen. His fingers tracezy patterns on my bare shoulder, each movement drawing me closer to the deepest rxation I''ve felt in five long years.


    Thest thing I''m aware of before sleep ims me is the steady beat of Arthur''s heart beneath my ear, and the profound happiness coursing through my veins.

 Chapter 189

    Iris


    Sunlight streams through my partially open curtains, painting warm stripes across


    the tangled white sheets. I wake slowly, my body pleasantly sore in ways I haven''t felt in years. An arm is draped heavily across my waist, and for a moment, I''m disoriented¡ªand then the memories ofst nighte flooding back.


    Arthur. The museum. Dancing in the rotunda. And then...


    I shift slightly, turning to look at the man sleeping beside me.


    My heart swells with a tenderness I''ve been trying to suppress for so long. Last night felt likeing home-like finding a piece of myself I didn''t even realize was missing until it slotted back into ce.


    Arthur stirs, his arm tightening around me. Slowly, his green eyes flutter open. They find mine immediately.


    "Hey," he murmurs. His voice is deliciously rough from sleep, a sound that I have to admit I''ve missed sorely. over the past five years. Right now, every part of me hopes to hear it as often as possible, even if life and responsibilities and the sake of "taking things slow" makes that impossible.


    "Hey yourself," I whisper back. My face heats as his eyes flick over me, lingering briefly on my exposed breast, nipples slightly peaked in the morning coolness. But I don''t cover myself.


    Wordlessly, his warm hand slides up my bare back, pulling me closer until I''m nestled against his chest.


    "Sleep okay?" he asks.


    "Better than I have in ages," I admit, and it''s true. Arthur isn''t the only one who has had a bad sleep schedule for the past five years. Last night might have been the first night in a long time that I didn''t pass out from exhaustion/ after painting into the wee hours of the morning.


    "Good." His hand continues its gentle exploration of my back, drifting lower to trace the curve of my hip.


    But despite the warmth of the moment, I find myself tensing slightly as his fingers brush across the faint stretch marks that pattern my lower belly and hips-little souvenirs I picked up from carrying Miles for nine months.


    It''s been years since I''ve been this exposed with someone, and my body has changed since Arthurst saw it. The pregnancy and childbirth left their marks.


    Normally, the changes don''t bother me. But I can''t deny the fact that now, in the light of the morning and with no alcohol clouding my system, I''m a bit self conscious.


    Arthur notices my tension right away, just as I feared he might. His hand stills, and he pulls back slightly to look at me. "What''s wrong?"


    "Nothing," I say, but the wordes out too quickly to be convincing.


    His eyes search my face. Then understanding dawns in them as his fingers brush across a particrly prominent stretch mark that stands out from the rest of my skin. "Iris." he says softly, "you''re beautiful. Every inch of you."


    I bite my lip, embarrassed. It feels ridiculous to be self conscious, but I can''t help it. "I''m different now. My body


    Before I can finish, Arthur moves down the bed, pushing the sheet away to expose my stomach. I have an instinctive urge to cover myself, but he gently catches my hands.


    "This," he says, pressing a feather-light kiss to a stretch mark on my left hip, "is beautiful." Another kiss, to my lower belly where a particrly prominent line crosses. "And this." His lips move to my right hip, just above


    where my thigh begins. "And especially this."


    Arthur continues.kissing downward, his breath warm against my skin as he lingers on each and every mark. His fingers trace a pattern of lines above my belly button, and then he dips his head one more time to kiss the apex of my thighs, causing me to inhale sharply.


    Coming back up, he offers me a tender smile. "I think it''s sexy as hell that you bear these marks. Please don''t try to hide them from me."


    "I never..." My throat bobs. ¡°I haven''t been with anyone since the pregnancy. I''m not used to anyone seeing them."


    "Well, get used to it," Arthur murmurs, moving back up to kiss me properly on the mouth this time. "I intend to memorize each one."


    My breath catches again, even more so as his fingers dig lightly into my hips, tongue exploring my mouth. We''re just starting to get carried away again when the sound of a knock on the door interrupts us.


    "Mommy?" Miles calls. "Are you in there?"


    ¡°Just a minute, little wolf," I call back, scrambling to find something to wear. Arthur hands me his t-shirt from the floor, and I pull it on quickly. It falls to mid-thigh, covering enough to be decent. It smells like him, too, and I want to bunch it around my nose and inhale deeply like an infatuated weirdo, but I control myself.

 Chapter 190

    Chapter 190 Chapter 190


    While Arthur dresses, I slip out of the bedroom. Miles is in the kitchen now, standing on his tiptoes trying to reach the cereal boxes on the top shelf. Scout curls around my legs, crying for his breakfast too as I make my way over to-


    Miles.


    "Here, let me help," I say, retrieving his favorite cereal.


    Miles eyes me curiously and wrinkles his nose. "You smell like Daddy."


    I feel my face heat up. "Well, um..." I busy myself with opening a can of wet food for the cat, if only to hide my blush, "Daddy spent the night. We had a sleepover."


    Miles looks wounded. "You didn''t invite me?"


    "It was an adults-only sleepover," I say with a softugh, ruffling his hair. "Next time, kiddo."


    He epts this exnation easily, which I''m grateful for. pour his cereal and set it on the table, then feed the cat and start making coffee, hoping Arthur has managed to make himself presentable.


    A few minutester, Arthur emerges from the bedroom, wearing his pants but with his hair still deliciously rumpled-and shirtless, of course. Miles looks up from his cereal, eyes widening in surprise.


    He doesn''t even notice when Scout jumps up on the counter and beginspping at his milk. I shake my head and scoop the kitten up, holding him against my chest while he mews and squirms.


    "Ooh, so that was your shirt!" Miles exims.


    Arthur and I exchange a look, and I can see he''s trying not tough. "Yep," he says, grabbing the cat and ruffling his ears as he passes. "Your mom stole it." Miles looks at me. "Since there''s three of us, can we have pancakes instead?"


    I roll my eyes. "I just made you cereal."


    "Next time," Arthur says, epting the cup of coffee I hand him. The idea of a next time after the magical night we had makes my stomach flutter with excitement. "I''ve got to head to work soon."


    Miles looks a little disappointed, but doesn''t argue. While he eats his cereal, Arthur and I sip our coffee in silence, asionally ncing at each other.


    Each look sends fresh heat roiling through my veins, and at one point, as he not- so-subtly reaches over my head to ¡°grab something¡°-even though there''s nothing to grab other than the edge of the cupboard-I have to press my thighs together to keep them from shaking.


    It''s just like old times, and I want more of this. I don''t even care if it''s greedy of me. I want all of him.


    But s, it can''tst forever. We''ve both got responsibilities today, so, after I reluctantly give Arthur''s shirt back, he kisses me goodbye. With that, we part ways, promising to have another date soon-maybe one that involves Miles.


    The rest of the morning passes quickly. I help Miles dress for the day, do a load ofundry, and meet with the Abbott director to discuss my current progress. But all the while, my mind keeps drifting back tost night and this morning-to Arthur''s touch, his words, the way he made me feel whole again.


    By mid-afternoon, Miles and I are both restless.


    On impulse, I decide to take Miles on a walk to my favorite coffee shop. We throw on hats and sunsses to at least attempt to keep our identities hidden, and then head out with Emi trailing behind at a respectful pace.


    The coffee shop is busy but not packed. I order my usualte and a chocte croissant for Miles and I to share, adding a sandwich and a coffee for Emi-which she thanks me profusely for. She takes Miles to a table in the corner to settle in while I wait for our order.


    As I''m picking up our food, I''m so absorbed with thoughts of my night with Arthur that I don''t notice someone approaching me. I turn, not expecting anyone to be there, and my body bumps into a sturdy chest. Suddenly, hot coffee is spilling across my blouse.


    "Oh!" I gasp, jumping back.


    "I''m so sorry, Iris," a familiar voice says as a pair of hands move forward to dab at the stain with a napkin.


    I look up in shock to see none other than Caleb Willford standing in front of me.

 Chapter 191

    Iris


    I blink, surprised by Caleb''s presence. His expression is unreadable as he carefully dabs at my shirt, but there''s something in his eyes¡ªa strange intensity that makes ine fortable. It''s the same look he gave me at the hospital when we first met.


    "Actually, I''ve been hoping to run into you," Caleb says, his voice low. "Would you mind if we talked for a moment?"


    Emi suddenly appears behind him. "Is there a problem here?" she asks.


    Caleb''s face pales slightly, but I shake my head and offer her a smile. "Everything''s fine. We know each other." I turn to Caleb. "What do you need to talk about?"


    He rubs the back of his neck. "I was actually hoping we could talk in private."


    Hesitantly, I nod and instruct Emi to remain with Miles, handing her the tray containing our food. I follow Caleb out onto the sunlit sidewalk, where our voices won''t be so easily overheard.


    "I saw your debut at the g," he says. "Quite the impression you made."


    My face heats. "Not exactly how I nned to introduce myself to Ordan society."


    "Few first impressions go as nned," he says with a small smile. "But you handled it admirably. Arthur must be proud."


    "Did you just want topliment me, or is there something else you intend to say?" I ask abruptly. Even if Selina isn''t his biological sister, I can''t imagine that the apple falls far from the tree, so it''s hard to trust him.


    "Actually, there is something else." He lowers his voice. "It''s about the DNA test. Iris, you''re a match. You''re my sister."


    I stare at him,pletely dumbfounded. I know I took the DNA test during a moment of weakness, but I never actually thought it woulde back positive. This has to be some kind of mistake, or maybe even a practical joke. "That''s impossible."


    "It''s true." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded stack of papers. "These are the test results. I had them verified twice."


    My hands shake as I take the documents, scanning the paragraphs. As soon as I see the words-"DNA match: Positive"-I feel the world start spinning around me. ¡°But.... This can''t be right," I whisper. "I''m human. I''ve always been human."


    "Is that so?" He tilts his head. "Would you have taken the DNA test if you hadn''t any reason to think you might... not be human?" When I don''t respond, he flips to thest page for me and taps the paper. "Read here."


    My throat bobs as I follow where his finger is pointing. "Possibility of Werewolf Gics: 99.9998%."


    "You''re not human," Caleb says gently. "You''re a werewolf, Iris. A dormant werewolf, but a werewolf nheless. My sister."


    "Dormant?" I choke out. My head is reeling so fast I can barely focus on the papers in my hand. "That''s not possible. I would know if I had a wolf inside me."


    "It''s rare, but not unheard of," Caleb exins. "Your wolf likely went dormant when you were swapped as a baby - either as a defense mechanism or as the result of something done to you by whoever switched you and Selina."


    I shake my head, eyes still fixed on the results. I think that I stare at the page for long enough, some kind of hidden clue that this is all fake might pop out. But nothing does. This is real, and...


    Dizzying.


    Without conscious thought, I sink down onto a bench behind me, still staring at the papers. Caleb takes a seat beside me.


    This exins so much. The Mindlink power I used at the g, the surge of energy


    I feltst night that made me want to bite my mate, the rapid healing...


    "I have to tell Arthur," I blurt out, reaching for my phone.


    But Caleb stops me, his hand curling around my wrist. I blink up at him, and his face is grim. "Don''t tell him yet, Iris.¡±


    "You want me to keep this a secret? From Arthur?"


    Caleb nods. "Just for a little while. Until we figure out what this means, and more importantly, who did this to us. Who separated us."


    "But Arthur is my mate," I protest. "I can''t keep something this huge from him."


    "Iris," Caleb says, his voice softening, "I know this is a lot to process. I want to help you understand who you are, where youe from. There''s so much about being a werewolf, about our family, that you need to learn." He pauses. "Come to my home tomorrow night. I can exin everything better there."


    I bite my lip, unsure. "I don''t know..."


    "Please," he says, moving his grip from my wrist to my hand. His touch is warm, familiar somehow, in a way I can''t exin, and strangelyforting. "Let me be the big brother I was meant to be. Just for a few days, until we sort this out."


    The thought of keeping such a massive secret from Arthur makes my stomach twist. But I''m also desperate for answers. This could all be a trap of some kind, and yet I see nothing but sincerity in his eyes.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 192

    "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.¡±

 Chapter 193

    Iris & Arthur


    Iris


    The shopping bags rustle as I shift them in my arms, stepping out of the taxl in front of my apartment building My head still feels foggy, like I''m walking through a dream or maybe a nightmare. I keep reying Caleb''s words in my mind: You''re my sister. You''re a werewolf.


    How am I supposed to process that? My entire identity, everything I thought I knew about myself, has suddenly been flipped upside down..


    I''m a Willford. A dormant werewolf. Selina''s biological recement.


    Caleb insisted on paying for everything despite my protests and I eventually gave in. I hate letting people pay for me, but I was in such a daze that I didn''t have it in me to argue too much.


    The total made me wince-it was way more than I''d typically spend in a year on clothing-but he waved it off like it was nothing. He even tried to give me a credit card "for emergencies," which I did find the strength to refuse.


    That felt like crossing a line, even if he is apparently my brother.


    Miles skips ahead of us toward the building, clutching the new airne toy Caleb bought him without even asking if it was okay. A tant attempt to win over my son, but Miles fell for it instantly. I can''t really me him; the animatronic Spitfire does make impressively realistic sounds.


    "Mommy, look!" Miles points excitedly, and I follow his gaze to see Arthur leaning against his expensive car outside our building.


    My heart lurches at the sight of him. He''s dressed casually in jeans and a dark blue sweater that makes his green eyes pop even from this distance. I should be excited to see him so soon after our magical night together, but it''s guilt that immediately washes over me.


    It''s only been a few hours, but I''ve been keeping secrets from my mate. It feels... wrong. I want to tell him.


    But I don''t. I promised Caleb I wouldn''t, and frankly, I need some time to process first. I tell myself it''ll just be a few days, and that Arthur will understand why I had to wait when I finally do tell him.


    At least, I hope he will.


    As Miles races toward Arthur, who scoops him up with a grin, I notice Emi subtly step away to give us privacy. But. the look she exchanges with Arthur doesn''t escape my notice. Has she already told him where I was? Who I was with?


    "Hello, stranger," Arthur says as I approach, setting Miles down. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I''d surprise you."


    "That''s a lie,¡± I say, managing a small smile. ¡°You were waiting for me."


    Arthur''s smile falters slightly. "You caught me. Emi mentioned you were out- shopping with Caleb Willford."


    And there it is. My stomach drops. "I ran into him at the coffee shop," I exin carefully. ¡°He spilled coffee all over my shirt, so he offered to rece it."


    Arthur''s eyes drift to the numerous shopping bags. "That''s a lot of recement shirts."


    "He felt really bad about it, especially after what Selina did to me," I say, shifting ufortably. ¡°He kind of insisted. And... I have a migraine, so I kind of spaced out and didn''t stop him from picking out a few extra things."


    Liar. Dirty fucking liar.


    +25 BONS


    The migraine part is true, though. I''m seeing floaters in my vision just from the intensity of the day. Arthur takes a few bags from my hands, and we walk toward the building together. Miles runs ahead. "Well, that''s generous of him," Arthur says, his voice carefully neutral. "Just... be careful with him. Willfords are notoriously... Well, you know what Selina''s like."


    My stomach twists. "I don''t know. I don''t want to assume that everyone is out for their own gain."


    Arthur studies me for a moment as if trying to read me, and my heart skips a beat. Finally, he nods slowly." Alright." He nces at the bags again. ¡°Well, I hope you at least got something nice."


    I nod, managing a smile. ¡°I did,¡± I say, and I''m not talking about the clothes.


    I''m a werewolf.


    Arthur


    The door clicks shut behind me as I leave Iris''s apartment a few hourster. It was


    a nice night spent making dinner and watching a movie together, but something felt off-like Iris was keeping something from me.


    She kept saying she had a migraine, but I think there''s more to it than that.


    Caleb Willford. Taking my mate shopping. Buying her expensive dresses.


    No matter how much I try to push it down, there''s no stopping the way my wolf is pacing angrily, jealousy coursing through my veins. I know I shouldn''t feel this way but I can''t help it.


    I trust Irispletely-it''s Caleb I don''t trust. What game is he ying now? And why does it involve Iris?


    *


    +

 Chapter 194

    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...


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 195

    Iris


    I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror, barely recognizing myself. The sapphire blue dress hugs my curves perfectly, flowing in a silky cascade to just above my knees.


    Unlike the emerald dress that was destroyed at the g or the stuffy outfit from the photoshoot, this one actually feels like me-elegant but with an artistic edge, a woman who could stand confidently beside the Alpha President without looking like she''s trying too hard.


    I run my hands down the silky fabric, smoothing it over my hips. Caleb has good taste, I''ll give him that. The cut is daring enough to be sexy without crossing into inappropriate territory, and the color looks nice on my skintone.


    "You look pretty, Mommy," Miles says from the doorway.


    "Thank you, sweetheart," I reply, turning to smile at him. Remember, Alice will be staying with you tonight. I won''t be gone long."


    Miles nods, but his eyes are already drifting back to his toy. He''s had a hard time focusing on anything else since Caleb gave it to him yesterday. I''m d, at least, that he seems to like Caleb so much. If there''s even a slim chance that Miles can finally be epted by a family, then I''m happy.


    Still, I can''t believe I''m actually doing this going to visit the ce that should have been my home, to spend time with the brother I never knew I had.


    It feels unreal, like I''m stepping into someone else''s life. And after what Arthur said about the Willfords and their motives yesterday, I''m still wary that it might be some kind of trap. I double check my purse onest time to make sure I have my pepper spray, just in case. Emi will be waiting in the car, too, so I won''t be alone.


    With onest goodbye, I make my way out to the car.


    The drive takes us out of the city, through winding roads that climb into the hills where Ordan''s elite make the homes. I''m surprised Arthur didn''t purchase anynd out here when he took position as President, but I suppose sprawling McMansions were never really his style.


    When we finally reach the Willford estate, my breath catches.


    It''s not just a mansion; it''s practically a castle. An imposing gate swings open to reveal sprawling grounds with manicured gardens, fountains, and a circr driveway leading to a massive stone structure that could easily house fifty people. This was supposed to be my home?


    Emi opens my door, and I step out, nearly stumbling on the gravel because I''m so busy staring up at the mansion in awe. How is this real? How is any of this real? I grew up in an orphanage with twenty other kids, sharing a room with three other girls, wearing hand-me-downs and eating whatever was cheap and filling.


    And all along, this was where I was meant to grow up.


    It feels like a practical joke. Or a fever dream.


    I nce at Emi and give her a meaningful look. She nods silently without me even having to say anything.


    I made her promise to keep tonight between us; I think she might suspect that I''m cheating on Arthur or something, but thankfully she''s loyal enough to me to agree to not say anything for three days. I gave her a bit of a reprimand, too, for viting my privacy yesterday¡ªI still feel a little bad about it, but I guess it''s something I''ll have to get used to now that I''m... a Willford.


    The massive front door swings open before I reach it, and Caleb steps out, dressed in a casual but clearly expensive sweater and cks. His smile is warm and genuine as he greets me.


    "Iris," he says, taking me in. "You look incredible in that dress. I knew it was perfect for you."


    "Thank you," I reply, suddenly self-conscious. "This ce is... overwhelming."


    Caleb nces over his shoulder at the mansion. "I suppose it is, if you''re not used to it. But it was meant to be your home too." There''s a hint of sadness in his words that makes my chest tighten.


    He offers me his arm. "Come inside. Let me show you


    around."


    The foyer alone is bigger than my entire apartment, with soaring ceilings, marble floors, and a huge curved staircase. Priceless artwork hangs on the walls, and a crystal chandelier glitters overhead.


    "This is the main hall," Caleb exins as he leads me deeper into the house. "Most of the formal rooms are on this floor-the dining room, library, musi? room, the sitting rooms."


    Sitting rooms. Plural.


    I try to take it all in as we walk through room after room, but it''s a lot to handle. There''s a library with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with leather-bound books. A music room with a grand piano. A sunroom overlooking gardens that seem to stretch for miles.

 Chapter 196

    It''s stunning.


    In each space, staff members greet us. They seem to recognize me, but none of themment on the situation. "Everyone is so friendly," I note as a housekeeper curtsies slightly before continuing with her work.


    "They''ve been waiting to meet you for twenty-six years," Caleb says. "When the news broke that Selina wasn''t actually a Willford by blood, and that our real sister was still out there somewhere... Well, many of them have served our family for generations. They feel this almost as deeply as I do." He nces at me. "And you don''t need to worry; their discretion is unerring."


    I bite my lip. "And your-our-parents?"


    "Out of the country at the moment," Caleb says. "It''s their thirtieth anniversary. They''ll be back next week.¡± He pauses, studying my face. "They''re eager to meet you."


    I nod, not sure how to feel about meeting the parents who never knew I was switched at birth. Do they me themselves? Do they wonder how they didn''t notice?


    Do I look more like my mother or my father?


    Do they even exist or am I going to be murdered by a lunatic tonight?


    We continue the tour upstairs, where Caleb shows me the bedroom that would have been mine-a spacious suite


    with its own sitting area, bathroom, and walk-in closet. It''s currently decorated as a guest room.


    "We can redecorate it any way you like," Caleb says. "This should be your space, however you want it."


    "I''m not moving in," I remind him gently.


    "No, of course not," he says quickly. "But you should have a ce here,


    regardless. Somewhere that''s yours when you visit."


    When we return downstairs, dinner is beingid out in a dining room that couldfortably seat twenty. It feels ridiculous, just the two of us at this massive table, but I don''tment.


    As we eat-some kind of exquisite fish with a butter sauce that probably costs more than my weekly grocery budget-Caleb finally brings up the question that''s been hanging between us.


    "Have you ever felt your wolf?" he asks, setting down his fork. "Even once?"


    I shake my head. "Never. I always believed I was human. Even the doctors didn''t notice anything unusual." I pause, taking a sip of my very expensive wine. "I never even had an inkling that I might not be human until recently. Although, ording to the orphanage director, I got along better than expected with the werewolf kids when I was little."


    Caleb nods thoughtfully. "Your wolf must have gone dormant very early. Perhaps whoever switched you and Selina did something to suppress it. Either way, I''m going to contact some specialists. There might be a way to help your wolf emerge."


    I stare at my te, not sure what to say. The thought of having a wolf inside of me, a separate consciousness sharing my body, is terrifying. But it''s also thrilling in a strange way. It would make me truly Arthur''s equal-a werewolf mate for a werewolf Alpha.


    Will it intensify our bond, I wonder? The idea sends a rush of excitement through me. I wish I could tell him, but I guess it''ll have to wait.


    "Iris,¡± Caleb says, "I want to help you adjust to all this. Not just the werewolf part, but everything thates with being a Willford. The social expectations, the etiquette, the politics."


    I bite my lip. "I haven''t exactly been making a great impression, have I?"


    "You''ve been thrown into the deep end without much preparation," Caleb says kindly. "But I can teach you. I grew up in this world-I know all the unwritten rules, all the social codes and expectations. Let me take you under my wing."


    The offer is tempting.


    "You won''t have to worry about making a fool of yourself in public anymore," Caleb adds, as if reading my thoughts. "I can teach you everything you need to know to navigate Ordan high society. To be the Luna they''ll respect."


    My pride bristles at the implication that I need fixing, but my practical side knows he''s right. If I want things to work with Arthur, then I need to adapt to this world. Right now, I feel like I should take all the guidance I can get.


    "Alright," I say with a nod. "I ept your offer. Teach me what I need to know."


    Caleb''s face brightens. "Excellent. We''ll start right away. In fact, I''lle over first thing tomorrow morning for your first lesson."

 Chapter 197

    The doorbell rings at precisely eight o''clock. Miles, already dressed and eating cereal at the kitchen table, perks up. "Is that Daddy?"


    "Not this time," I say, checking my appearance in the hallway mirror. I''ve dressed casually today-jeans and a nice blouse-but I still feel nervous. There''s something about Caleb that makes me want to impress him, as if I''m trying to prove I would have been a worthy Willford all along.


    I open the door to find Caleb standing there with arge box under one arm and a garment bag slu shoulder. He''s dressed impably as usual, and suddenly feel like a slob.


    "Good morning," he says with a smile. "Ready for your first lesson?"


    over his


    "As I''ll ever be," I reply, stepping aside to let him in. Miles darts into the entryway while Caleb is standing there, taking everything in. "Miles, buddy, you remember Mr. Caleb, right?"


    Caleb''s expression softens at the sight of Miles. "Hello, young man. It''s nice to


    see you


    Miles hides behind my legs but smiles shyly at Caleb, and Caleb returns the smile. It''s a relief to see such a nice interaction after the way Arthur''s parents acted, and gives me more hope that Miles will finally be epted into the family I know he deserves.


    Caleb sets the box down on my coffee table and carefully hangs the garment bag on a hook near the door. "I brought a few things to help with today''s lessons," he exins, opening the box to reveal fine china teacups, cloth napkins, and an assortment of silverware.


    "You''re not messing around," I mutter.


    "Etiquette is the most important thing in high society," he says. "Let''s begin with the basics."


    For the next hour, Caleb guides Miles and me through proper table manners- Miles, curious, asked to join, and Caleb graciously included him in the lesson. We go over which fork to use for what course. How to hold a fe. The correct way to sip soup from a spoon. How to dab, not wipe, your mouth with a napkin.


    Miles, surprisingly, takes to it like a fish to water. He sits up straight, chin lifted, carefully mimicking every movement Caleb demonstrates. I''ve never seen him so focused on anything before.


    "Excellent posture, Miles," Caleb praises, and Miles beams in response.


    Something warm unfurls in my chest as I watch them together, Maybe someday, Caleb will be the doting uncle Miles deserves. Maybe Miles will finally have the extended family that loves and epts him unconditionally. That would fulfill all of my wildest dreams. And it will make lying to Arthur for a few days totally worth it. "Now for you, Iris," Caleb says, turning his attention my way. "Let''s work on your sitting posture. Shoulders back, spine straight, but rxed."


    I adjust myself ordingly, bncing a book on my head as he instructs. "Like this?"


    "Almost. Chin slightly lower-there, perfect." Caleb nods approvingly. "You''ve got natural grace. No surprise there-it''s in your blood."


    J bite back ament about how my "natural grace" didn''t seem to help me at the g or during that disastrous interview. Instead, I focus on maintaining the posture while practicing the tea-pouring technique he''s showing


    1. me.


    "You want to appear effortless," Caleb exins as I carefully tilt the teapot. "Everything should look easy, even though it''s not."


    "That seems to be the theme in high society," I mutter. "Pretending things are easier than they are."


    Calebughs. "You know, you have a better sense of humor than Se-" He quickly stops himself, face reddening. My throat bobs at the mention of Selina, who''s still in ama in the hospital. This must be hard for Caleb; she''s still the sister he was raised with, even if she''s a bat out of Hell.


    14


    After another hour of practice, we take a break. Miles wanders off to his room to y, leaving Caleb and me alone at the table.


    "You''re a quick study," Caleb says. "Better than I was at your age."


    "I''ve always been able to adapt,¡± I reply with a shrug. "When you grow up in an orphanage, you learn to fit in wherever you can."


    Caleb''s expression darkens. ¡°You shouldn''t have had to adapt. You should have grown up with your real family."


    "Well. I try not to dwell on what might have been," I say, even though that''s a massive fucking lie. The truth is, I''ve been dwelling on nothing else since I found out. It still feels like I''m dreaming, or perhaps sitting in a padded room somewhere, hallucinating andpletely disconnected from reality.


    A silence falls between us as we sip our tea, but there''s something on my mind


    that I have to bring up. "Caleb," I begin hesitantly, setting down my cup. "I''ve been thinking about Arthur. About telling him the truth.¡±


    Caleb tenses, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his teacup. "I thought we agreed to keep this between us for now."


    "I know, but..." I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "He''s my mate. It feels wrong to keep something this massive from him."


    "It''s only been two days," Caleb points out.


    "I know that. But I also know Arthur. He''d want to know, and he deserves to know."


    I study Caleb''s face, noting the tight set of his jaw. "Is it because of what happened to Selina? Is that why you don''t trust him?"


    Caleb''s expression closes off. "Arthur wasn''t exactly careful with my sister-with the woman I believed was my sister for twenty-six years. He nearly killed her."


    "It was an ident," I say firmly. "Arthur would never hurt anyone intentionally." Caleb raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"


    I nod firmly without hesitating. "Positive."


    He sighs, setting down his cup. "I just don''t want to see you suffer. Politics is a-


    "A dirty business, I know," I cut him off. "But I have to tell him, Caleb, and I will. Not today, and not tomorrow, but soon. I''ll give you a few more days so we can settle in, but no more than that. Despite what you think, Arthur is my mate. I won''t keep secrets from him."


    For a moment, Caleb looks like he might argue further. Then, surprisingly, his expression shifts to one of respect.


    "You''re more like our mother than I expected," he says. "She has the same stubborn streak. The same loyalty." He nods slowly. "Alright. A few more days, but that''s all."


    Relief washes over me. "Thank you for understanding."


    "I don''t understand," Caleb admits with a slight smile. "But I respect your conviction. It''s... admirable."


    We return to our tea lesson, the tension gradually easing as Caleb teaches me the proper way to host a tea party. Within a few minutes, we''reughing over Caleb''s story about a disastrous diplomatic function where he identally used the wrong fork and offended a foreign dignitary.


    Suddenly, the door opens, and we all turn to see Arthur standing in the entryway. He''s holding a bouquet of flowers.


    But it''s not the flowers that catch my attention-it''s his eyes. They sh bright red for a split second as he takes in the scene.


    He''s jealous. And if there''s one thing I know about a jealous Alpha, it''s that this is not going to go over well.

 Chapter 198

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    Iris


    The flowers in Arthur''s hands seem to wilt in his tight grip as he stands frozen in the doorway, his eyes darting between Caleb and me. My stomach twists at the sight of his jaw clenching. He''s jealous.


    "What the hell are you doing with my mate, Caleb?" Arthur''s voice is hardly more than a growl.


    "Arthur-" I start, but Caleb cuts me off.


    "Sit down, Arthur," Caleb says calmly, gesturing to the empty chair beside us. "And get over yourself. I was just giving Iris an etiquette lesson so she stops humiliating herself in public."


    My mouth drops open. I''ve never heard anyone speak to Arthur like that-not even his parents. Arthur''s eyes sh red again, and for a moment I''m afraid he might shift right here in my apartment.


    "Why?" Arthur asks, his voice low and dangerous. "Why are you going out on a limb to help her?"


    My throat bobs as I watch Caleb set down his teacup in the exact way he just taught me-pinky down so the cup doesn''t rattle against the saucer. He folds his hands in hisp and meets Arthur''s gaze.


    "I took pity on her. She keeps embarrassing herself in a world she''s not prepared for." He gestures to the teacups and napkins spread across my dining table. "And after what Selina did to her, I feltpelled to help."


    Arthur''s grip on the flowers tightens, crushing several stems. "That''s it?"


    "Not entirely." Caleb leans back in his chair. "Selina was raised as my sister for twenty-six years, regardless of biology. And now Iris is the public mate of the man who put her in aa." He pauses, letting that sink in. "I feelpelled to keep an eye on Iris. For her safety."


    The logic is wless, delivered with just the right mix of brotherly concern and subtle usation. I watch Arthur process this, his expression shifting from suspicion to something closer to guilt. My stomach twists.


    "You think she''s in danger?" Arthur asks. He looks at me. "Iris, do you feel unsafe around me?"


    I quickly shake my head. "Of course not.''


    Caleb clears his throat. "Not you, necessarily, Arthur. Selina had many friends, as you well


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    know. Some of them might seek revenge. I''d rather prevent another incident than clean up after one."


    I bite my lip, watching the exchange. Arthur''s shoulders rx slightly, but I can tell he''s still wary. He looks at me, really looks at me, and I force myself to meet his gaze. The lie burns in my throat, but I swallow it down.


    "I see," Arthur finally says. He turns to me, his expression softening. "Are you alright with this... arrangement?"


    I nod, managing what I hope looks like a grateful smile. "Caleb''s been really helpful. I need all the guidance I can get."


    Arthur studies my face for a long moment, and I hold my breath. Can he tell I''m hiding something? Does he sense the massive secret sitting between us like an elephant in the room?


    But then he nods, seemingly epting my answer. The tension in the room eases ever so slightly.


    "Well," Arthur says, straightening his shoulders. "I appreciate you looking out for her." The words seem to cost him something, but he says them anyway. Always the diplomat, even when his wolf is clearly still agitated.


    Caleb inclines his head graciously. "Of course. We wouldn''t want any more public disasters, would we?"


    There''s a slight edge to his words that makes me wince, but Arthur either doesn''t notice-or perhaps he just chooses to ignore it.


    Caleb rises smoothly from his chair and smooths down his shirt. "Well, I think that concludes


    then to our first lesson. I''ll leave you two to your evening," he says, nodding curtly to me, Arthur. "Iris, we''ll continue our lessons tomorrow. Same time?"

 Chapter 199

    +25 BONOS


    I nod, torn between relief at his departure and anxiety about being alone with Arthur. Will he press me for more answers once Caleb is gone? I want to tell him, but after what Caleb told me, I feel uncertain.


    "Thank you for today," I tell Caleb.


    Caleb gives me a small smile, then extends his hand to Arthur. "Alpha President."


    Arthur stares at Caleb''s hand for a moment, but then shakes it. "Good seeing you, Caleb."


    "Likewise."


    I walk Caleb to the door, aware of Arthur''s eyes on my back the entire time. At the threshold, Caleb leans in close and whispers, "Remember what we discussed. A few more days."


    I nod imperceptibly, then close the door behind him. When I turn back to Arthur, he''s standing in the middle of my living room, looking slightly lost among the scattered remnants of my etiquette lesson. He''s still holding the flowers, although they''re basically dangling at his side now.


    "So," he says, clearing his throat. "Etiquette lessons?"


    I nod. "After the interview debacle, I figured I could use some help. Caleb offered, and I epted. We''re... friends now."


    Liar, a tiny voice in the back of my mind hissed. The guilt tasted like ash on my tongue. "You could have asked me to help you," Arthur says, and there''s hurt in his voice now.


    My chest tightens. "You''re busy enough as it is. And honestly..." I trail off, searching for the right words. "It''s embarrassing, having to learn all this stuff at my age. Things everyone else in your world already knows."


    Arthur crosses the room in three strides, gently turning me to face him. "Iris, you don''t have to be embarrassed with me. Ever."


    I look up into his green eyes, so full of concern and love, and the guilt threatens to choke me. How can I keep lying to this man? My mate?


    But I remember Caleb''s warning, his insistence that we need more time to figure things out. I''m not entirely sure why Caleb is so adamant about not telling Arthur, but I want to respect his wishes. It''s a tough spot to be in, though. I feel caught between a rock and a hard ce. betray my family when I''ve only just found them or betray Arthur, the man I care deeply for. "I know," I finally whisper, leaning into Arthur''s touch. "I just want to make you proud."


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    "You already do," he says fiercely, pulling me into his arms. The flowers smell sweet. "Every single day. And if you want to seek Caleb''s help, regardless of the way I feel about him, that''s your decision. If you''re happy, I''m happy."


    "Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate your trust."


    I breathe in his familiar scent, mixed with the scent of the flowers, and let it calm my racing heart. His wolf responds to my distress; I can feel it in the way his body tenses protectively around me.


    For a moment, I wonder what it would be like if my own wolf was awake, if we couldmunicate on that deeper level.


    Soon, I tell myself. Soon, I''ll tell him everything. Just a couple more days. Arthur will understand.


    Arthur finally pulls back and gently presses the flowers into my hands. "These are for you."


    Smiling, I inhale the smell of the flowers, the tension slipping from my shoulders as the sweet scent envelops me. Arthur follows me to the kitchen and watches, leaning against the doorframe, as I find a vase under the sink. I add water, then carefully cut the stems to fit and arrange the flowers in the vase.


    "So," he says, his eyes softer now, "how about that second date?"


    2

 Chapter 200

    Iris


    The salty breeze whips through my hair as Arthur carries Miles on his shoulders down the boardwalk. Miles squeals with delight, one of his little hands gripping Arthur''s hair while the other points at anything and everything-seagulls, pretty clouds, someone walking by with cotton candy.


    The guilt gnaws at me even more now that I see them together.


    I want to tell Arthur everything. About being a Willford. About being a werewolf. About this impossible reality I''ve found myself in, the reality that I still can''t quite believe myself. It still feels like a dream, like I''ll wake up at any moment and discover that none of it was real.


    I want to tell him all of it.


    But I made a promise to Caleb to keep our secret for just a little while longer, and I just can''t bring myself to betray the brother I''ve only just found. I''m caught between two worlds, two loyalties, and I hate it. It''s putting a damper on what should be joyous news.


    I can''t help but wonder why Caleb feels so adamant about keeping the truth from Arthur. Is it that he doesn''t trust him after what happened with Selina? Or did Caleb not truth Arthur from the start? The two of them certainly don''t seem to have the best feelings toward each other.


    "Look, Mommy! The ocean!" Miles points excitedly toward the waves crashing against the


    shore.


    I force a smile. "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?" Miles grins and kicks his feet, giggling excitedly. I know the one thing he misses the most about Bo''Arrocan is the beach. We lived right next to it when we were there, and we would go every day. I miss it, too; Ordan is beautiful, but has considerably fewer ocean views.


    Arthur nces back at me, and there''s something in his eyes-a distance that wasn''t there before. He''s still upset about finding Caleb in my apartment, even if he''s trying to hide it for Miles'' sake. This time, I can''t even me him. If I were in his position, seeing my mate with another, I''d be upset, too.


    I wonder, for a moment, if I''ll soon feel the same level of jealousy he feels-once my wolfes out. If it everes out.


    The thought is still absurd to me. I have a wolf. I want to pinch myself again, but my arm is sore from doing it so muchtely, so I restrain myself.


    We make our way down to the beach, Arthur lowering Miles carefully to the sand. Our son immediately runs toward the water''s edge, then stops just short of the waves,ughing as


    +25 BONOS


    they chase his feet.


    "Don''t go too far,¡± I call out as I spread a nket on the sand.


    Arthur stands beside me for a moment, hands in his pockets, watching Miles. He''s smiling, but I can practically feel his tension radiating off him like heat.


    "Want to look for seashells?" I ask, hoping to lighten the mood.


    He nods, and we walk along the shoreline together hand-in-hand, keeping Miles in sight. Arthur''s palm is warm andforting against mine, and I rub my thumb across his knuckles, hoping that the simple gesture will help soothe some of his tension.


    Spotting something, I bend down to pick up a small conch shell, brushing sand from its pink interior.


    "Pretty," Arthur murmurs as I hold it up, but I can tell he''s not really looking at the shell.


    My throat bobs. "Arthur, about Caleb "


    "You don''t have to exin," he cuts me off, but there''s an edge to his words.


    "I want to." I stop walking and turn to face him. "He''s just... he took pity on me


    after what happened at the g. He wants to help."


    Arthur''s jaw clenches. "And you trust this man you hardly know?"

 Chapter 201

    The question makes my stomach twist painfully. Do I trust Caleb? My long-lost brother? The man who is helping me understand who I really am?


    "I think he genuinely wants to help," I say carefully. "We''re friends now."


    Arthur stares at me for a moment. "Willfords don''t do anything without an agenda," he warns. "Selina taught me


    that."


    I bite my lip, remembering all too well the sort of hell Selina put us through. If the apple doesn''t fall far from the tree, then maybe Caleb isn''t so different. But I want to believe he is-I want to believe that my family, my real, biological family, who I''ve finally found after more than two decades of believing I was a human orphan, only wants the best for me.


    "Maybe he''s different," I offer weakly.


    Arthur studies my face for another long moment, then sighs. "If you trust him, I''ll try to as well. Just... be careful, okay? I''m just worried about you, that''s all. I don''t want to see you get hurt."


    Relief washes over me. He''s giving me space to make my own decisions, even if he doesn''t agree with them. I reach up, cupping his cheek.


    "Thank you for trusting me," I whisper, then rise on my tiptoes to press my lips to his.


    He hesitates for just a moment before kissing me back, his arm sliding around my waist. His fingers gently dip into the soft flesh at my hip and draw me closer. I slip my tongue briefly into his mouth, swirling it around his before retreating. The motion makes him loose a low huff that rumbles against my mouth.


    When we break apart, some of the tension has left his shoulders.


    "Mommy! Daddy! Come help!" Miles calls from further down the beach, where he''s started building a sandcastle.


    We spend the next hour helping Miles construct an borate castleplete with moats and towers. Arthur shows him how to pack the sand just right, while I hunt for shells and seaweed to decorate it. The awkwardness between us gradually fades as we focus on our son.


    Later, we sit down on the nket to watch the sunset. Miles curls up between us, exhausted from his building efforts. Arthur''s arm drapes across my shoulders, and I lean into him, breathing in his familiar scent.


    As darkness falls, we pack up our things. Arthur scoops up a sleepy Miles, who immediately rests his head on his father''s shoulder. My heart swells at the sight, even as guilt continues to twist in my stomach.


    Soon. I''ll tell him soon. I''ll give Caleb ¨¢ couple more days, but then I''m telling Arthur everything whether Caleb likes it or not.


    The drive to Arthur''s apartment is quiet-I agreed to spend the night with him, which excited Miles and, admittedly, me.


    I stare out the window, watching the city lights blur past. Every day I keep this secret feels like another lie, another betrayal. But how can I choose between my mate and my brother?


    When we arrive, I have to admit I''m sort of relieved to see the familiar facade of the apartment we once shared- the apartment we might share again soon. Clyde must be off tonight, because he''s not behind the security desk when we pass through the lobby with our things.


    I make a mental note to visit him and Augustine tomorrow it''s been a while since I''ve seen them.


    "Now," Arthur says as we step into the apartment, "before we get ready for bed, I have to show you two


    something.


    I follow with a furrowed brew as he leads us up the stairs, then down the hall to the guest room that Miles and I shared when we were staying here. He stops outside the door and turns to us with a grin.


    "Ready for your surprise?"

 Chapter 202

    Iris


    With a flourish, Arthur turns the handle and pushes the door open, flicking on the light.


    "Ta-da!" he announces, stepping aside so we can see.


    **


    My breath catches as I take in the scene. The rooin that was once a simple guest bedroom has beenpletely transformed. Every inch of it screams ''Miles.''


    The walls are painted a soft blue with white clouds, and borate dinosaur decals are stered across them. A bookshelf shaped like a shark holds a whole host of new books and toys. In the corner sits a small desk with colored pencils and drawing paper alreadyid out.


    But the centerpiece is the bed-a bright red race carplete with wheels and headlights.


    "Wow!" Miles shouts, rushing into the room and whirling around in circles to take it all in. "A race car bed! Just like Falways wanted!"


    My heart swells watching Miles explore every corner, touching everything. He climbs into the race car bed, making vrooming noises as he pretends to drive.


    "When did you do all this?" I ask Arthur, turning to look at him. I can barely breathe, I''m so stunned-and touched.


    Arthur shrugs, but I can see the pride in his eyes. "I''ve been working on it for a few weeks. Had to sneak around a bit to get it done without you noticing."


    Miles is now examining the bookshelf, pulling out what looks like an encyclopedia on dinosaurs. He gasps as he flips it open to arge spread on pterodactyls. ¡°Look, Mommy! This book has pictures and everything!"


    I step further into the room, taking in all the thoughtful details. There''s a nightlight shaped like a crescent moon, a toy chest painted with stars, and even a small tent in the corner for reading or ying pretend. Everything is perfect. Everything is exactly what Miles loves.


    I should be happy. And I am, truly. But that happiness is edged with another feeling, one that''s far more bitter.


    Guilt.


    Here''s Arthur, creating this magical space for our son, putting so much thought and care into every detail. And what am I doing? Keeping massive secrets from him. Lying about who I really am just to appease someone I hardly even know. "Do you like it?" Arthur asks softly,ing up behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and rests his chin on top of my head.


    I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The backs of my eyes are pricking with hot tears and I fear I might burst out sobbing if I say a word.


    "Daddy, can I sleep here tonight?" Miles asks, bouncing on the race car bed.


    "Of course, buddy. This is your room now. Whenever you visit, or..." His arms tighten slightly around my waist." Or if you and your mom move back in someday." Moving in. The thought fills me with joy, but also more guilt. This is all I ever wanted-to live together, a happy family, our childpletely spoiled rotten by a doting father. And to think that it''s finally within my reach is surreal. But it''s yet another bitter reminder that I''m keeping huge secrets from the man of my dreams.


    As Miles returns to excitedly exploring his new room, Arther nces at me. "You sure you''re okay?" he whispers.


    I hesitate, biting my lip. I should tell him. Fuck it.


    I turn in his arms, pressing my palms gently against his chest. I take a deep breath, preparing myself.


    "Arthur, I-"


    Thud.


    "Ooow!"


    Arthur and I both whirl around to see that Miles has fallen, so excited that he tripped over the rug and bumped his knee on the bedside table. Arthur rushes over, scooping him up and scolding him lightly for not paying attention.


    I sigh.


    Tomorrow. It''ll be better to tell him tomorrow. For now, we''ll just focus on... this.


    We spend the next half hour getting Miles settled, reading him a bedtime story in his new room. He''s so excited he can barely keep his eyes open, fighting sleep until the very end: When he finally drifts off, clutching a stuffed t-rex to his chest, Arthur and I slip out quietly.


    In the hallway, I turn to Arthur and wrap my arms around his neck. "Thank you,¡± I whisper. "This means so much."


    Today''s Bonus Offer


    napter 203

 Chapter 203

    He pulls me close, his hands warm on my lower back. "Anything for our family."


    The word ''family'' makes my chest ache. I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him. Arthur responds immediately, deepening the kiss as he walks me backward toward his bedroom. Our bedroom.


    I almost consider telling him again, but once inside, I decide to focus on the present moment. On Arthur. On us. I step back and slowly unbutton my blouse, revealing thecy ck bra I put on this morning. Arthur''s eyes darken as they trace the delicate pattern against my skin,


    "You''re killing me," he murmurs, reaching for me.


    I let him pull me close again, his mouth hot against my neck. His hands slide down to cup my ass, and he groans when he discovers that I''m wearing matchingcy parties under my skirt.


    "Goddess, Iris," he breathes against my skin.


    He pushes me down onto the bed, following me down. His mouth travels from my neck to my corbone, then lower to the swell of my breasts above thece. I arch into him, my fingers threading through his hair.


    Arthur''s hands are everywhere-sliding up my thighs, pushing my skirt higher, tracing the edge of my panties. When his fingers slip beneath thece, I gasp, my hips lifting off the bed.


    "So wet already," he murmurs, his fingers exploring my opening.


    I reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in my eagerness. Arthur helps me, shucking off his pants and boxers in one smooth motion. His shirt follows, and then he''s gloriously naked above me.


    We join with a desperation that surprises me. Maybe it''s the lingering tension from earlier, or maybe it''s my guilt/ manifesting as an intense need. Either way, I lose myself in the sensation of Arthur''s body against mine, in the familiar rhythm we find together.


    For a while, I forget everything else. Forget Caleb. Forget the secrets. Forget that I''m apparently a werewolf. There''s only Arthur and me, moving together, chasing that peak of pleasure.


    But just as we''re finding our rhythm, something feels... off. A wetness that''s different from arousal. A cramping sensation low in my belly.


    "Arthur, wait," I gasp, pushing at his broad shoulders.


    He stops immediately, pulling back to look at me with concern. "What''s wrong?"


    I shift slightly and feel it-the unmistakable sensation of my period starting. "Shit,¡± I mutter, mortified.


    Arthur follows my gaze down to where we''re joined and sees the blood on his sheets. "Oh," he says simply.


    I''m not sure why, but I half-expect him to be disgusted, to pull away in horror. Instead, he carefully withdraws and helps me sit up.


    "I''m so sorry," I babble, my face burning with embarrassment. "I didn''t realize-l thought I had another week


    "Hey, it''s okay," Arthur cuts me off, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "These things happen."


    He grabs some tissues from the nightstand and helps me clean up, then strips the sheets off the bed. "I''ll throw these in the wash," he says, bundling up the stained sheets. "You want to take a shower?"


    I nod, still mortified. While I''m in the bathroom, I hear him moving around, putting fresh sheets on the bed.


    When I emerge, wrapped in a towel, he hands me a pair of his clean boxers and one of his t-shirts.


    "These should be more confortable," he says with a gentle smile.


    I change quickly, grateful for his thoughtfulness. The boxers are soft and loose, much better than my ruinedcy panties. When I climb back into bed, Arthur pulls me close, spooning me from behind.


    "I''m really sorry," I whisper again.


    "Stop apologizing," he murmurs against my hair. "It''s natural. Nothing to be embarrassed about."


    His kindness makes the guilt surge up again like bile in my throat. Here he is again, being the perfect partner, the perfect father, handling everything with such grace. And I''m lying to him. Keeping this massive secret about who I really am.


    I want to tell him I really do.


    But just as I''m opening my mouth to finally say the words, look over and find that Arthur is fast asleep.


    No interesting of all

 Chapter 204

    ¨ªris


    I wake to the feeling of a cool breeze kissing my cheek and the sound of rain pattering against the window. For a moment, I can''t help but smile; I''m home. Sleeping in my old bed. In the very same bed I once happily shared with my mate and will share with him again and again. Yawning, I roll onto my back and stretchnguidly.


    Slowly, the events of yesterdaye creeping back. My eyes crack open, and I expect to see Arthur sleeping beside me. I have to tell him the truth; I can''t keep this secret any longer.


    But when I look over, I find his side of the bed empty.


    I sit up, looking around. The en suite bathroom door is open, the bathroom unupied. Suddenly, I spot a sticky note sitting on my bedside table. I pick it up and see that it''s a note from Arthur exining that he had a work emergency and won''t be back untilter tonight.


    Well, so much for that.


    With a sigh, I climb out of bed and get dressed. I packed some extra clothes for our overnight trip, so I pull on a pair of leggings and a tank top; but it''s colder today due to the rain, so I grab one of Arthur''s knit sweaters out of the closet and pull that on.


    I smile again as I inhale his scent. Thest time I did this, I hid in his closet and fell asleep there like a desperate weirdo. Now, I can wear his clothes again with pride, just like I used to do.


    If only I weren''t keeping such a huge secret from him. But I know I''ll tell him as soon as possible. If not today, then tomorrow. (1)


    Miles is already awake when I go downstairs. I make us both breakfast consisting of buttery toast and omelets, which Miles eats with gusto. As I''m cleaning up, I suggest visiting Clyde and Augustine, and Miles excitedly agrees to apany


    me.


    In the lobby, Miles immediately runs to Clyde, arms outstretched. "Hey there, little man!" Clyde exims, ruffling Miles'' hair. "I heard you''d be around today. Are you here to help me with the door again?"


    Miles nods with a grin. Clyde chuckles. "You were really good at pressing the buttonst time, so that''s your job today."


    After Clyde and I exchange pleasantries¡ªI find out that his niece was in town recently and they checked out all of the major Ordan attractions, even the zoo, much to Clyde''s chagrin because seeing the monkeys in cages depresses him-l make my way to Augustine''s door.


    "Iris, dear!" Augustine''s face lights up when she opens the door. "I heard you were here. Come in,e in."


    Her apartment smells likevender and old books, just as it always has. "Tea?" Augustine asks, already heading to the kitchen without waiting for my answer. "Please," I call after her.


    A few minutester, she returns with a tray bearing two mismatched teacups and


    a te of shortbread cookies. Her hands shake slightly as she pours, but she manages without spilling.


    "So," she says, sitting in her favorite armchair across from me, "tell me everything.


    I hear you and Arthur are back together?"


    I smile, taking a sip of the perfectly brewed tea. "We are. It''s been... wonderful, actually."


    "But?" Augustine''s sharp eyes study me over the rim of her cup.


    $


    "But what?"


    "There''s something you''re not telling me, dear. I may be old and addled, but I''m not blind."


    My throat bobs. Even with her recent memory issues, Augustine has always been perceptive, especially when ites to matters of the heart. I''m d to see she hasn''t lost that ability to the throes of her dementia, but I''m also chagrined that she noticed. "It''splicated."


    "Love usually is." She sets down her cup with a gentle clink "Whatever it is, you should talk to Arthur about it."


    "I want to," I admit, surprised by how easily the wordse out. "I really do. But there are... other people involved. Other considerations."


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 205

    Augustine reaches across and pats my hand. "A strong rtionship isn''t built on lies, Iris. Whatever secret you''re keeping, it will only grow heavier with time."


    Her words hit me like a punch to the fucking face. She''s right, of course. Every day I keep this from Arthur feels like another brick added to the wall between us. "I''ll tell him," I say firmly. "Soon. Whether Cal-whether anyone else likes it or not." Augustine nods approvingly. "Good girl. Now, about book club..."


    We chat for another hour about the mystery novel we''re supposed to be reading, although neither of us has made much progress. Miles eventuallyes and knocks on the door, asking for lunch, and we say our goodbyes.


    Back upstairs, I check my phone and groan. Ipletely forgot that my residency presentation is due tomorrow, and I''ve barely even started: Between the g, the photoshoot, Caleb''s lessons, and, well... everything else, I''ve been neglecting my


    actual career.


    I need to focus. But first, I should do something nice for Arthur. Something to show him how much appreciate everything he''s done for us. Maybe I could cook his favorite meal, or pick up a new record to add to his vinyl collection...


    "Mommy, can I stay at Daddy''s again tonight?" Miles interrupts my thoughts. "I want to sleep in my race car bed!"


    "I don''t know, sweetheart. I have a lot of work to do, and-


    Suddenly, the door closes behind me, making me jump. Arthur is standing in the entryway, dressed in his usual work attire: a crisp navy blue suit. "How about a father-son night?" he says, clearly having overheard.


    I blink.


    "Please, Mommy?" Miles tugs at my sleeve. "I promise I''ll be good!"


    I sigh, realizing that I''m outnumbered. Besides, it''ll be an opportunity for me to get some work done without distractions.


    Thirty minutester, I''m standing in the doorway, prattling off a list of instructions.


    "Remember, he needs to brush his teeth for two full minutes, not just a quick swipe. And no sweets after dinner, even if he asks nicely. Oh, and he might try to convince you that he''s allowed to stay up past nine, but don''t fall for it-


    "Iris," Arthur ces his hands on my shoulders with an amused smirk that somehow makes him look even more irritatingly handsome than usual. "I''ve got this. Go home and work on your presentation."


    "But I need to tell you-


    >>


    "Whatever it is can wait," he insists, gently steering me toward the door. "Your career is important. Go. Now."


    "Arthur, really"


    "Nope." He''s actually pushing me out the door now,ughing. "Stop stalling."


    I open my mouth to finally tell Arthur the truth about my big secret, but Miles chooses that moment to run up and wrap his arms around Arthur''s legs. My lips press together. I can''t tell him with Miles right here. This is a private conversation. It''s the type of conversation that has to happen between Arthur and I first, so we can navigate it before we both sit Miles down and exin everything.


    4


    "Daddy, can we make popcorn and watch dinosaur movies?


    Arthur ruffles his hair. "Of course, buddy. As soon as your mom stops trying to micromanage our evening."


    I roll my eyes, but I''m smiling, even if my mind is reeling with the fact that I''m going to have to wait another day to tell Arthur the truth. "Fine, fine. I''m going."


    As I step into the hallway, Arthur catches my wrist and pulls me back for a quick kiss. "Good luck with your presentation," he murmurs against my lips. "We''ll be fine


    Walking to the elevator, I can''t help but smile. I might be keeping some life- changing secrets, but other than that, life is good.


    Almost too good to be true.

 Chapter 206

    Chapter 206 Chapter 206


    Tris


    Later that night, after hours of sitting at myputer, I finally hit ''save'' on myptop and lean back with a satisfied sigh.


    The presentation is finally done-aprehensive look at the evolution of surrealist portraiture techniques over thest fifty years. My fingers ache from typing, and my eyes burn from staring at the screen for hours, but the relief of finishing is worth it.


    Shutting my eyes for a moment, I gently scratch Scout''s ears. The orange kitten- who is not so little anymore but still small and adorable-purrs happily in myp.


    "You know," I murmur, smiling softly, ¡°I almost forgive you for nearly getting my son killed that night in the flume."


    The cat, of course, doesn''t respond.


    A knock at the door suddenly makes me jump, and startles Scout so much that he hisses and scrabbles out of my arms, hiding beneath the sofa. I nce at the clock-it''s nearly nine. Who could be visiting thiste?


    I open the door to find Caleb standing there, impably dressed as always in a charcoal sweater and dark cks.


    "Ready for your next etiquette lesson?" he asks, stepping inside.


    I bite my lip. "Actually, Caleb, there''s something I need to tell you."


    His eyebrows raise slightly as he sets down the box he''s carrying. A quick nce reveals that the box contains ornate napkins, a few books, and some other random items that I can''t picture being used for etiquette, although I''m sure Caleb will find a reason. "Oh?"


    "I''m going to tell Arthur the truth." The wordse out in a rush. "About everything. About being a Willford, about being a werewolf. I can''t keep lying to him."


    Caleb''s face pales. He sits down heavily on my couch, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Iris, we talked about this. We need more time to figure out-"


    "It''s been days," I interrupt. "And every moment I spend with Arthur while keeping this secret feels like a betrayal. He''s my mate and the father of my child. I can''t jeopardize my rtionship with him, especially not so soon after we''ve gotten back together."


    "But we still don''t know everything," Caleb argues, sounding exasperated and, dare I say, even a little scared." We don''t know if it''s safe to reveal the truth yet."


    I study his face, noting the concern in his eyes. Suddenly, it clicks. "You''re being protective," I mutter.


    He blinks. "Of course I am. You''re my little sister."


    "Caleb." I sit down beside him and take his hands in mine, hoping that everything in my voice and touch and posture will emanatefort. "I appreciate that you care, but you barely know me. You can''t keep treating me like a little sister to be coddled and protected."


    His jaw tightens. "I''m not-"


    "You are," I say as gently as I can manage. "And while it''s sweet, it''s also stifling. I''m twenty-six years old. I''ve survived on my own my entire life. I need you to treat me like an adult and respect the fact that I need to make my own decisions."


    Caleb looks mildly offended, but he takes a deep breath and nods. "You''re right. I''m sorry. It''s just... I''ve spent my whole life thinking Selina was my sister, and then to find out you''re out there, that you''ve been alone all this time


    ." He trails off, shaking his head.


    My heart softens at his words. For a moment, I realize that Arthur may have been wrong about himi-Caleb isn''t as cruel or maniptive as Arthur made him out to be. Maybe he''s just a man trying to make up for lost time.


    I tilt my head. "Why can''t you at least trust Arthur?" I ask. We don''t have to tell the world just yet. Just him." Caleb sighs and pulls his hands away from mine although not roughly-and leans back against the couch cushions. "It''s not Arthur, necessarily, who concerns me," he admits.


    My eyebrows shoot up at that. "Oh?"


    "It''s his family."Caleb shoots me a sidelong nce as if gauging my reaction. I keep my expression neutral for now. "His parents have always been... rough around the edges. They''re not very nice people. I''ve never liked them, and they don''t like our family very much, either."

 Chapter 207

    I frown. So it''s a family thing. "But Selina was engaged to Arthur and they didn''t seem to have any issues with it as far as I know."


    "Yes," Caleb admits with a nod, "but they liked Selina because she was perfectly bred and raised to be the ideal Luna. You, however..." Caleb gives me a meaningful look, and my stomach sinks. No wonder Caleb has been so adamant about improving my media training and etiquette


    "You want to wait until I''m more ''presentable," I say somewhat bitterly.


    Caleb quickly sits up. "I didn''t mean that. It''s just..." He signs. "Iris, you''re not prepared for this life-by no fault of yours, of course. But his parents will eat you alive, and if they find out you''re a Willford and you still don''t have the proper skills to impress the public as a Luna, then they pin it on our entire family. It''ll just be an excuse for them to create a feud. We have to n your public debut very carefully."


    I absorb this information slowly. No matter how insulting it is, I know Caleb is right. I might have plenty to offer the world as an artist, but as the Luna of Ordan and a Willford... I still have a lot of work to do.


    But then, suddenly, an idea clicks into ce. "Well, I can''t keep this from Arthur any longer," I say. "We have to tell him, at least."


    "Are you sure he won''t-"


    "He won''t tell his parents, or anyone else, if I ask him not to." I give him a stern look, then add, "But in the meantime, we should view this as an opportunity."


    "An opportunity for what?"


    "A party."


    Caleb stares at me like I''ve just lost my mind. "A party?"


    "Think about it," I say with a shrug. "It''ll be a chance for me to showcase my hosting skills-put some of that etiquette to the test. And it won''t be public, just a small party, so it will be low-pressure. His parents won''t need to know we''re rted yet. It''ll just be a chance to improve their view of me before the public debut."


    "That''s awfully... optimistic," Caleb says carefully.


    "It''s worth a try. Besides, like it or not, we''re all family now. We''re going to have to spend time together eventually. Consider it a... test run."


    Caleb sighs, but nods. "Alright. If you''re determined to do this, I''ll help. What do you need?"


    "Just show up and be your usual charming self," I say. "And maybe try to ept the fact that, whether you like it or not, I''m going to tell Arthur before the party."


    He presses his lips together, clearly not overjoyed by the idea. But to my relief, he nods.


    And with that, weunch into our next etiquette lesson-this time with a new twist. In order to ensure that I''m fully prepared for the party, he teaches me how to host properly, how to make a toast and pour drinks, how to stand in such a way that my back doesn''t hurt so I can always be moving around the party, ever the gracious host, without losing stamina.


    It''s exhausting, and the sort of party he''s preparing me for doesn''t feel like the "fun" sort that I''m to, but I''m determined. My future hinges on this. Miles'' future hinges on this. All I want is for Miles to be epted by both families, and the only way I can do that is to make them ept me first.


    After Caleb leaves, I grab my nicest stationery and begin writing invitations. It''s been years since I''ve thrown a


    proper party-not since before Miles was born. Even though I know it won''t be light


    and carefree, but rather a careful political move, I''m actually excited.


    I carefully pen each invitation, making sure my handwriting is neat and legible: "You are cordially invited..."

 Chapter 208

    Iris


    No matter how many times I do this, I''ll never get used to giving lectures. And without my old ''Flora'' disguise, I feel like I''ve been stripped of my protective armor, leaving me even more exposed and vulnerable.


    My hands shake slightly as I click through the final slides of my presentation. The roorn is filled with fellow artists, residents, and gallery directors-all watching intently as I discuss the evolution of surrealist portraiture techniques.


    "And so," I conclude, gesturing to the projected image behind me, "we see how contemporary artists have taken the foundational principles established in the 1920s and transformed them through digital mediums, creating entirely new interpretations of the surrealist vision."


    Apuse fills the om as I finish. Several heads nod appreciatively, and I catch a few smiles from the Abbott Gallery directors. My residency mentor approaches me afterward, patting my shoulder.


    "Excellent work, Iris. That presentation was fantastic."


    Relief floods through me at the praise. After all the chaos of the past few weeks, I was bing sort of worried that my actual artistic career might suffer. But somehow, I managed to pull it off. Probably partially thanks to Arthur stepping up as a perfect father.


    I try not to think about the fact that I still haven''t told him the truth.


    Tonight. I''ll tell him tonight. The party is in three days, so I hope this will give us time to navigate the revtion before the datees. And I hope he won''t hate me too much for hiding this from him for a week now.


    As I pack up myptop and notes, a few other residents from other galleriese forward with questions andpliments. It feels good to be recognized for my work again, to be seen as an artist rather than just the Alpha President''s mate.


    That feelingsts exactly until I step outside.


    "Iris! Over here!"


    "Iris! What can you tell us about your rtionship with the Alpha President?" "Are wedding ns in the works?"


    A wall of journalists practically ms into me, cameras shing, microphones thrust in my face. My throat tightens. This isn''t what I expected-they''re supposed to be here for the art exhibition, not for gossip. I search for Emi, but she''s cut off by the journalists, and they''re not moving when she tries to force her way through them to my side.


    ¡°I¡ªI just gave a presentation on surrealist portraiture," I stammer, trying to redirect their attention. "The evolution of techniques from the 1920s to-"


    "But what about Alpha President Arthur?" someone interrupts. "Sources say you''ve been spending nights at his apartment."


    "Is it true you''re still living on your own despite being in a rtionship with him?¡±


    My face burns. I open my mouth to respond, but no wordse out. Despite Caleb''s daily training sessions, I''m not prepared for an ambush like this. Suddenly, amanding voice cuts through the chaos.


    +29 BONUS


    "That''s enough."


    The journalists part, and to my utter shock, Leonard strides through. Arthur''s father, who just days ago was suggesting that Arthur take Miles away from me, now stands between me and the press like my knight in shining armor. Emi joins me as well and ces herself on the other side so the two of them form a protective barrier.


    "Sir!" The journalists redirect their attention. "What bring you here?"


    "I''m here to support Iris''s artistic endeavors," Leonard says smoothly, which makes my brow furrow because I have a feeling that couldn''t be further from the truth. To Leonard and Wendy, my artistic career is nothing more than a ''hobby''. "Now, if you''ll excuse us, she has othermitments."


    Before I can protest, Leonard ces a hand on my elbow and guides me away from the crowd. The journalists call after us, but Leonard''s presence is enough to keep them at bay. We don''t stop until we''re around the corner, out of sight. Emi lingers at the edge of the building, holding back any press that''s still trying to chase us.


    "Thank you," I manage, still stunned by his intervention and perhaps even a little wary. Leonard nods curtly. "When the press smells blood in the water, they tend to circle like sharks."

 Chapter 209

    I wince at the metaphor but don''tment. Instead, I study his face, trying to


    decipher every line and twitch. Somehow, his expression is neutral, as if he wasn''t just telling Arthur that I''m not fit to be a mother or a wife.


    "I received your invitation," he says after a moment. "To the dinner party."


    "Oh." My stomach flips. "Yes, I hope you and Wendy can make it."


    "We''ll be there," he says, and I can tell that the promise pains him slightly. He pauses, then adds, "It was... thoughtful of you to include us."


    The admission seems to cost him something. I seize the opportunity.


    "What''s your favorite cocktail?" I ask, offering what I hope looks like a serene smile and not a painful grimace. I''d like to serve it at the party."


    Leonard''s eyebrows raise slightly. "You don''t have to-"


    "I want to," I insist. "Please."


    He studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Very well. There''s a drink I enjoy. It''s notmon-my own creation, actually. Kiwi muddled with mint, gin, lime juice, and a ssh of elderflower liqueur."


    Imit the recipe to memory. "That sounds delicious. I''ll make sure to have it ready."


    Something in Leonard''s expression softens, just slightly. It''s so faint I almost miss it, but the fact that it''s even there at all fills me with relief. This feels like a step in the right direction. "Thank you," he says.


    Before either of us can say more, I hear familiar voices approaching.


    "Mommy!"


    Mileses running around the corner, Arthur close behind. My sonunches himself at me, and I scoop him up, kissing him all over. "Hey there, little wolf. Did you have a fun sleepover with Daddy?"


    Miles giggles, trying to push me away as I tickle his neck with my kisses. "Yes! We watched movies, and Daddy even ordered a pizza!"


    Arthur''s eyes narrow when he sees his father. "What''s going on here?"


    "Your father just helped me with some... overeager journalists," I exin quickly.


    Arthur''s protective stance doesn''t rx. He moves closer to me, cing a hand on my lower back. "Are you alright?"


    "I''m fine. Really." I turn to Leonard. "Thank you again."


    Leonard nods to both of us. "Arthur. Iris." He nces at Miles. ¡°Grandson."


    With that, he walks away, leaving Arthur staring after him with a confused expression.


    "What was that about?" Arthur asks once his father is out of earshot.


    "Didn''t you get the invitation?"


    "Yes, but-"


    "I invited your parents," I say, shifting Miles to my hip. "Along with Caleb. And you. And Hunter a. Alice, of course." I couldn''t help but invite my friends for support. I wish I could have invited Brian and Liam and the


    twins, but they''re busy in Bo''Arrocan.


    Arthur''s head whips back to me. "You what?"


    +25 BOARUS


    "A dinner party. This weekend." I take a deep breath, wanting desperately to tell him everything But we''re standing on a public street, Miles is right here, and Arthur keeps checking his watch.


    "I have to go away for a couple of days for a diplomatic issue," he says, confirming my suspicions. "But Iris, why would you invite them all together? That''s asking for trouble."


    "Trust me," I say, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I know what I''m doing."


    He doesn''t look convinced.


    "Arthur," I say softly, "I need to do this. Please."


    He sighs, but I cartsee him remembering his promise to respect my decisions. "Alright. If this is what you want.''


    I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him, and he responds in kind. When I pull back, I whisper, "This is going to be worth it. I promise."


    Arthur stares at me for a moment as if trying to believe me, but finally nods. "Very well." He brushes his thumb across my cheek before he sighs and pulls away, checking his watch again. "My ne is departing soon, so I have to run. I''ll see you on the day of the party, then."

 Chapter 210

    Iris


    I don''t see Arthur for three days.


    But it''s not my fault that I can''t tell him the truth about everything before the party. He''s busy with meetings in another city, I''m busy with Miles, my residency work, and party nning, and even when we do find a rare chance to talk for five minutes on the phone just to say goodnight or catch up on each other''s day, I can''t bring myself to tell him the news when we''re not face-to-face,


    So I keep telling myself that I''ll talk to him about it on the day of the party, before everyone arrives. It won''t be ideal, but I can''t wait any longer than that. I''m sure he''ll understand; I did try to tell him multiple times this week, but life just got in the way. It''s not like I wasn''t nning on telling him, or that I wanted to hide the truth.


    The morning of the party, I wake up before my rm even goes off and quickly shower and dress. I''m too nervous and excited to sleep any longer.


    After a quick breakfast, more to fuel myself than anything, get to work deep cleaning the apartment even though I just cleaned yesterday. I dust every surface, clean the windows on both sides, sweep out the firece, and even clean inside cupboards and under furniture where I know no one will see.


    I can''t take any risks; everything has to be absolutely perfect. This isn''t just any old dinner party-it''s my chance to prove myself to Arthur''s parents, to create some semnce of harmony between our two families, and to hopefullyy the groundwork for when I finally reveal the truth about being a Willford.


    Around noon, I drop Miles off at Alice''s for the day-she insisted on watching him so I could focus on my preparations. After that, I head to the upscale grocery store in the city center. My list is extensive: fresh herbs, prime cuts of meat, specialty cheeses, all the ingredients for Leonard''s cocktail, and more.


    It''s going to cost a lot of money. Probably way more than any sane person should spend on groceries, and I could get better deals at the little mom-and-pop grocery store that''s just down the street from my apartment.


    But I need the food to be exquisite; after all, thest dinner party with Arthur''s parents was pretty much a disaster, and I can''t risk failing again. If I had more money, I''d probably hire a fucking chef to cook everything.


    Then again, Leonard and Wendy might take issue even with that. They might im that a proper housewife should prepare all the meals herself.


    Even though I''m not a housewife.


    I move through the aisles methodically, checking items off my list as I go. The cart fills quickly with everything I need for tonight''s dinner and more, just to be safe. At the produce section, I carefully select the ripest kiwis, making sure they''re absolutely perfect for Leonard''s drink


    Finally, I wheel my overflowing cart to the checkout line. Salmon, chicken, fresh fruits and vegetables, crackers, artisan cheeses, expensive wines and liqueurs. I even pick up the ingredients to make several different desserts.


    The total makes me wince internally, but I remind myself this is an investment in my future with Arthur. In Miles ''future with his extended family.


    "That''ll be $487.63," the cashier, a young woman with a brte ponytail, says cheerfully.


    I hand over my card, already mentally calcting how much I''ll have left for next month''s expenses. It won''t be much, but I can make it work. But then the machine buzzes, and the cashier frowns.


    "I''m sorry, ma''am, but your card was declined."


    Iris


    I don''t see Arthur for three days.


    But it''s not my fault that I can''t tell him the truth about everything before the party. He''s busy with meetings in another city, I''m busy with Miles, my residency work, and Barty nning, and even when we do find a rare chance to talk for five minutes on the phone just to say goodnight or catch up on each other''s day, I can''t bring myself to tell him the news when we''re not face-to-face.


    So I keep telling myself that I''ll talk to him about it on the day of the party, before everyone arrives. It won''t be ideal, but I can''t wait any longer than that. I''m sure he''ll understand; I did try to tell him multiple times this week, but life just got in the way. It''s not like I wasn''t nning on telling him, or that I wanted to hide the truth.


    The morning of the party, I wake up before my rm even goes off and quickly shower and dress. I''m too nervous and excited to sleep any longer.


    After a quick breakfast, more to fuel myself than anything, I get to work deep cleaning the apartment even though I just cleaned yesterday. I dust every surface, clean the windows on both sides, sweep out the firece, and even clean inside cupboards and under furniture where I know no one will see.


    I can''t take any risks; everything has to be absolutely perfect. This isn''t just any old dinner party-it''s my chance to prove myself to Arthur''s parents, to create some semnce of harmony between our two families, and to hopefullyy the groundwork for when I finally reveal the truth about being a Willford.


    Around noon, I drop Miles off at Alice''s for the day-she insisted on watching him so I could focus on my preparations. After that, I head to the upscale grocery store in the city center. My list is extensive: fresh herbs, prime cuts of meat, specialty cheeses, all the ingredients for Leonard''s cocktail, and more.


    It''s going to cost a lot of money. Probably way more than any sane person should spend on groceries, and I could get better deals at the little mom-and-pop grocery store that''s just down the street from my apartment.


    But I need the food to be exquisite; after all, thest dinner party with Arthur''s parents was pretty much a disaster, and I can''t risk failing again. If I had more money, I''d probably hire a fucking chef to cook everything.


    Then again, Leonard and Wendy might take issue even with that. They might im that a proper housewife should prepare all the meals herself.


    Even though I''m not a housewife.


    I move through the aisles methodically, checking items off my list as I go. The cart fills quickly with everything I need for tonight''s dinner and more, just to be safe. At the produce section, I carefully select the ripest kiwis, making sure they''re absolutely perfect for Leonard''s drink.


    Finally, I wheel my overflowing cart to the checkout line. Salmon, chicken, fresh fruits and vegetables, crackers, artisan cheeses, expensive wines and liqueurs. I even pick up the ingredients to make several different desserts.


    The total makes me wince internally, but I remind myself this is an investment in my future with Arthur. In Miles ''future with his extended family.


    "That''ll be $487.63," the cashier, a young woman with a brte ponytail, says cheerfully.


    I hand over my card, already mentally calcting how much I''ll have left for next month''s expenses. It won''t be much, but I can make it work. But then the machine buzzes, and the cashier frowns.


    "I''m sorry, ma''am, but your card was declined."

 Chapter 211

    My stomach drops. "That''s impossible." I know I have the honey in my ount. My stipend went through yesterday; I checked myself to make sure it was all there. "Can you try again?"


    The cashier runs my card again, only to achieve the same result as before. Heat creeps up my neck as the line behind me grows longer, and the woman waiting directly behind me scoffs impatiently, I dig through my purse for another card, but I know it''s futile-my residency stipend is my only real ie right now.


    "One moment," I mumble, stepping aside to check my banking app. The bnce shows that my stipend went through, but then shows a negative transaction from this morning that removed the entire amount.


    That can''t be right.


    I quickly dial the payment office at the gallery. After a few rings, a woman


    answers, I exin the situation to her, and she hesitates. F?an hear her keyboard clicking in the background as she searches up my ount.


    "Ah, I see the issue," she says in a way more cheery voice than she should. "It looks like your bank mistakenly gged the transaction and returned it. We''ll have to sort this out with your bank and resend the money."


    "When can I see the funds in my ount?" I ask.


    "Three to five business days."


    I resist the urge to curse out loud in public. Three to five days? But the party is tonight! I can''t show up empty-handed, can''t serve Arthur''s parents takeout food again, and most certainly can''t make another bad impression when I''m already on such shaky ground with them.


    There''s only one option, and I hate that I have no choice but to do this.


    With shaking fingers, I dial Caleb''s number.


    "Iris?" He answers on the second ring. "Is everything alright?"


    "I need help," I admit, hating every second of this. "My stipend was dyed, and


    I''m at the grocery store trying to buy everything for tonight''s party, but my card was declined and-"


    "How much do you need?" he interrupts without preamble.


    I swallow. "It''s a lot... About five hundred dors. I''ll pay you back as soon as my stipendes through, I promise."


    "Don''t worry about it. I''m transferring it now."


    True to his word, my phone buzzes with a notification secondster. The money is already in my ount..


    "Caleb, I-"


    "It''s what family does," he says simply. "And don''t you dare try to pay me back. Now go finish your shopping. I''ll see you tonight.''


    The guilt sits heavy in my stomach as I return to the register, but the relief of being able to pay overwhelms it. I thank the cashier profusely and hurry out with my groceries, eager to get home and start preparing.


    When I reach my apartment building, I''m surprised to see Arthur''s car parked outside. He''s back a little early from his diplomatic trip. My heart lifts at the thought of seeing him, of finally having the chance to tell him everything before the party. I''m nervous, but I know he''ll understand.


    But as soon as I step inside, I know something is wrong.


    Arthur is standing in my living room, still in his travel clothe clenched.


    "Arthur?" I set down the grocery bags. "You''re back early.


    "Why are you taking so much money from Caleb?" he asks tabloid article with a picture of me in the grocery store.


    And the caption underneath reads: "Is it true? Mate of Alph money for groceries?"


    50


    Arthur is standing in my living room, still in his travel clothes, holding his phone. His face is grim, his jaw clenched.


    "Arthur?" I set down the grocery bags. ¡°You''re back early. thought your flight wasn''t until-


    "Why are you taking so much money from Caleb?" he asks, cutting me off. He holds out his phone to reveal a tabloid article with a picture of me in the grocery store.


    And the caption underneath reads: "Is it true? Mate of Alpha President calls Caleb Willford, of all people, to wire money for groceries?"

 Chapter 212

    Iris


    My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as I struggle toe up with a response. The tabloid article res up at me from Arthur''s phone screen, the photo clearly showing me at the grocery store, phone pressed to my ear.


    "I overheard Iris, the newfound mate of the Alpha President, on the phone at the expensive grocery store downtown today," the article reads. "And what do you know? Her card declined twice and she called someone for help-she kept saying the name ''Caleb'', a name that''s all too familiar in the life of the Alpha President. It must have been Caleb Willford."


    I feel like I''m going to be sick.


    "First of all," the article goes on, "why is she calling Caleb instead of Alpha Arthur if she''s struggling financially? Second, why is she shopping in upscale stores if her funds are so short? And finally... Why isn''t the Alpha President taking care of his mate?"


    "Arthur, I can exin-"


    "I''d like to hear it," he says, and there''s something dangerous in the calmness of his tone. "Because you refused my financial help time and time again, and suddenly, Caleb, your new ''friend'', is giving you money for groceries."


    I take a deep breath. This isn''t how I wanted to tell him, but I have no choice now. "There''s something I need to tell you. About Caleb, about me, about-"


    Suddenly, before I can finish, the doorbell rings.


    My head whips toward the door. "That can''t be right. It''s only two o''clock. The party doesn''t start until six." Arthur''s jaw clenches as the doorbell rings again. With a frustrated sigh, he strides to the door and yanks it open. Leonard and Wendy stand in the hallway, dressed impably as always.


    "Arthur," Leonard says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "We thought we''de early to help set up."


    My stomach drops. Help set up? They''re four hours early, and I''m still in my casual clothes with no makeup, my hair in a messy bun, and not even a single appetizer prepared.


    Still, I hold my head high, refusing to let them see me crack


    "How... thoughtful," I manage, forcing a smile. "Please,e in."


    Arthur shoots me a look that promises we will continue our conversationter, but immediately shifts into host mode. "Mother, Father, why don''t you make yourselvesfortable in the living room? Iris was just about to start preparing."


    "Oh, we can help," Wendy offers, but there''s something in her tone that suggests she expects me to decline. "That''s very kind, but I''ve got everything under control,¡± lie smoothly. "Arthur, would you mind showing them the new painting I hungst week?"


    He catches my meaning and nods, steering his parents away while I grab my grocery bags and practically sprint to the kitchen.


    Four hours. I have four hours of prep timepressed into maybe thirty minutes


    before they''ll expect inks and appetizers and a perfect hostess. This feels deliberate-it has to be. They came this early on purpose just to see


    +25 BONOS


    me squirm. The revtion makes my hands shake as I unpack the groceries, mentally reorganizing my entire cooking timeline.


    Well, I won''t let them see me suffer. My party is going to be a sess. I''ve nned too hard for this to let it flop, and I''m not about to let Arthur''s parents walk all over me or my son again.


    First things first: appetizers. I throw together a quick bruschetta, chopping tomatoes and basil at lightning speed. While the bread toasts, I arrange the fancy cheeses and crackers on a tter, adding grapes, fresh strawberries, and fig jam for color. The salmon gets a quick-marinade before going in the oven, and I start the reduction sauce for the chicken simultaneously.


    Multitasking like a madwoman, I somehow manage to get everything cooking or marinating within twenty minutes. The kitchen fills with delicious aromas, and despite the chaos, I feel a surge of pride. It''s actuallying together


    "Excuse me," Ica out, poking my head into the living room where Arthur is valiantly entertaining his parents. I just need to change quickly. Arthur, could you check on the bruschetta in five minutes?"

 Chapter 213

    Chapter 213 Chapter 213


    He nods with a practiced smile, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the questions still burning in his eyes.


    I race to my bedroom and tear through my closet. The dress''d nned to wear¡ªa sophisticated navy blue sheath


    -hangs ready, but now I second-guess it. Too formal? Not formal enough?


    Fuck it; there''s no time to debate. I shimmy into it, grateful that it doesn''t requireplicated fastenings.


    1


    My makeup next. Skipping foundation, I opt for simple eyeshadow, mascara, and a touch of blush. My hands tremble slightly as I apply my lipstick, but I manage not to smear it. My hair, however, is a little trickier-the messy bun won''t do, but there''s no time for the borate updo I''d nned. I settle for a sleek low ponytail, securing it with a pearl clip.


    For jewelry, I choose a pair of simple pearl earrings along with a delicate white gold ne. After a spritz of perfume, I actually look nice. Pretty, even. And only a little nerve-wracked.


    And then I''m rushing back to the kitchen just as the timer goes off for the bruschetta.


    Somehow, miraculously, everything is ready when the other guests begin arriving. The salmon is perfectly ky, the chicken is tender with its cherry reduction glistening on top. Even Leonard''s kiwi cocktails turn out beautifully, the pale green liquid looking elegant in crystal sses. I don''t have time to sip mine as I''m bustling around, but the other guests exim that it''s delicious.


    "Iris, you outdid yourself," Leonard says for the third time, which surprises me. "This cocktail is wonderful. Really, you must try it."


    I manage a smile. "Thank you, Leonard. I''m d you like it. I''ll have a sip soon."


    Leonard looks a little perturbed, but doesn''t mention it again. And so the night goes on without a hitch.


    But the tension between Arthur and me is palpable. Every time I try to catch him alone, someone needs a drink refill or wants topliment the party. Miles also bumped his head at Alice''s ce while ying a little too hard and keeps tugging on my skirt to ask quietly for aforting kiss on the spot where it hurts.


    Caleb''s arrival only makes things worse-Arthur''s jaw tightens visibly when they shake hands, and I know his blood is boiling with suspicion and anger.


    The party passes in a blur. I y the perfect hostess, making sure my guest''s sses are never empty, that the conversation nevergs. But inside, I''m dying. The secret weighs heavier with each passing minute, made worse by Arthur''s asional pointed looks.


    Finally, as dessert is served, I decide it''s time for my toast. I prepared an entire speech beforehand, one that I hope will subtly nt the seeds for my future public debut as a Willford-something about family, eptance, that sort of thing.


    Taking a tiny sip of the kiwi cocktail to steel myself, I stand tapping my ss gently with a spoon. The conversations die down as everyone turns to look at me.


    "Thank you all foring tonight," I begin with a practiced smile. Shoulders straight, neck long, face soft. Just like Caleb taught me. He gives me a small thumbs-up from the back of the room. "I wanted to bring everyone together because family is so important, and there are things about family that-"


    My throat suddenly constricts. The words stick, refusing toe out. I try to swallow, to push past whatever''s blocking my airway, but it''s like my throat has sealed shut.


    Panic floods through me as I struggle to breathe. The room starts to spin, faces blurring together. I see Arthur rising from his chair, concern recing the earlier tension in his expression. Caleb is on his feet too, reaching


    toward me.


    ck spots dance at the edges of my vision. My lungs burn desperate for air that won''te. The ss slips from my fingers, shattering on the floor.


    Thest thing I see before darkness ims me is Arthur lunging forward, his mouth forming my name.


    Then... nothing.

 Chapter 214

    Arthur


    My heart stops cold in my chest as Iris copses. Her ss shatters against the floor, sending the greenish liquid of the cocktail spilling across the hardwood.


    It all happens so fast. One moment she''s on her feet, hosting a phenomenal party against all odds, and the next moment she''s down. Her face is turning an rming shade of red, her hands wing at her throat as she struggles for breath.


    And then, just like that, she''s unconscious.


    "Iris!" I''m on my feet in an instant, lunging toward her, bu somehow Caleb is faster.


    He''s at her side before I can take two steps, catching her as she copses to the carpet. I can''t help but notice that it''s almost as if he''s done this before as he lowers her to the floor, one hand carefully supporting her head while the other reaches into his pocket for something.


    "Move back!" he barks at the stunned guests, then pulls out what looks like an EpiPen. Without hesitation, he shoves Iris''s dress up toward her hips and then jams the needle into her thigh.


    gasps,


    The effect is almost immediate. The terrifying blue tinge slowly starts to fade from her lips, and she drawing in a ragged breath. Caleb cradles her head in hisp, murmuring something to her that I can''t quite make out from where I''m standing frozen in shock.


    "Someone call 911," hemands, his eyes still focused on Iris like she''s the most precious thing in the world.


    Hunter is already on his phone, rattling off the address to emergency services. I drop to my knees beside Iris, gripping her cold hands in mine. "Iris," I murmur, even though I know she can''t hear me. "Iris, I''m here."


    The look of anger Caleb gives me isn''t lost on me, but I don''t have time to decipher it right now. For a moment, just a moment, the jealousy and confusion I''ve felt for days now melts away, reced by pure terror for my mate.


    Everyone else stands in stunned silence as we wait for the ambnce, the same questions no doubt running through all of our minds: How did this happen? What is she allergic to? And most importantly, how the hell did Caleb not only know about her allergy, but also just happened to have an EpiPen on hand?


    The paramedics arrive within minutes, their professional calm a stark contrast to the chaos in the apartment. They quickly assess Iris, praising Caleb''s quick action with the epinephrine.


    "You probably saved her life," one of them tells him as they carefully load Iris onto a stretcher. She''s conscious again, but just barely, and I can tell she''s in a lot of pain. I can feel it in my bones, as if I''m experiencing the same pain, and it confuses me.


    Many mates feel ghost pain if their mate is hurt or sick, but it''s not as prominent with human mates. The mate bond shouldn''t be strong enough between wolves and humans for those ancient forces-biological failsafes to ensure that, if one wolf mate got hurt, the other could recognize it and get help in order to keep both alive.


    But Iris is a human. I shouldn''t be able to feel her pain like this. Right?


    Pushing the thought away for now, I move to follow the procession of EMTs and guests out of the apartment. I find parents gathering their coats and car keys in the foyer, looking astonishingly unbothered by the whole


    situation.


    "We''ll leave you to it," my father says stiffly. "Do keep us informed on her condition, Arthur."


    "You''re noting to the hospital?" I ask, incredulous that they''re leaving when their son''s mate and the mother of their precious her is being loaded into a fucking ambnce.


    My mother adjusts her purse strap with a shrug, like I''ve just asked her to apany me to the grocery store. "It seems rather crowded already, and what help could we possibly provide? We would only be in the way."


    They leave without another word, their indifference to Iris''s condition making my blood boil. But I don''t have time to dwell on it-I need to get to the hospital. I need to be by Iris''s side.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 215

    I ride in the ambnce with Iris, and, to my chagrin, Caleb loes as well while Hunter and Alice follow with Miles in Hunter''s car. By the time we arrive, several nurses are already waiting in the emergency room.


    Within minutes, Iris has already been taken to a private room and hooked up to various monitors and IVs. After a few tests, the doctor confirms that Iris did indeed have a severe allergic reaction to something, although they''ll need to run more tests to find out exactly what it is that she''s allergic to.


    "I know what it is," Caleb says firmly without looking at me, his gaze never leaving Iris, who is still half- unconscious in the hospital bed. "Kiwi."


    "Kiwi?" I breathe, furrowing my brow. How the fuck did Caleb know that when I didn''t even know, and Iris is my mate? Does she even know?


    "Well, she''s lucky someone recognized the symptoms and had epinephrine on hand," the doctor says with a nod. "We''ll run the allergen tests anyway to be certain, but thank you for your input, Mr. Willford." With that, the doctor leaves.


    Once we''re alone, with Iris still hooked up to all those machines, I can''t contain myself any longer. I grab Caleb''s arm and pull him away from her bed, not leaving the room but far enough away so as not to disturb Iris, who is still out of it.


    "What the fuck is going on?" I demand, keeping my voice low but letting every ounce of my fury show. "How did you know she was allergic to kiwi? How did you just happen to have an EpiPen in your possession?"


    Baring his teeth, Caleb yanks his arm free. "That''s none of your business."


    "Bullshit. First the damned ''etiquette'' lessons, and now this?" My wolf is practically snarling beneath my skin with jealous rage. "What''s your game, Caleb? Are you trying to seduce my mate? Is this some sick revenge for what happened with Selina? How many times do I have to tell you that I didn''t mean to hurt Selina? I never would."


    His eyes sh dangerously. "You think I''m that petty? That I''d use an innocent woman to get back at you?"


    "Can you me me?" I snarl. "Every time I turn aroundtely, you''ve been there, by her side. Giving her money, spending time alone with her, knowing things about her that I don''t-"


    "Maybe if you paid more attention to your mate, then you would know these things too," Caleb snaps. "Did you ever ask about her medical history? Her allergies? Or were you too busy being the Alpha President to care about the details?"


    "Don''t you dare question how much I care for her," I growl stepping closer. Oh, how I want to throttle this fucker. My wolf is practically begging me to sink my teeth into him. "She''s my mate. The mother of my child. I care about her more than all of Ordanbined."


    "And yet you didn''t know she could die from eating a kiwi, Caleb shoots back. "Some mate you are, Arthur. I always knew you were a selfish fucker, but this-"


    "Shut the fuck up before I shut you up," I hiss, closing the remaining distance between us until our chests touch.


    I''m about to grab him by the cor when a weak voice stops me cold.


    "Stop it. Both of you."


    We turn to see Iris awake in her hospital bed. She looks pale and exhausted, but her eyes are clear and focused on


    1. us.


    "Iris "I move toward her, but she holds up a hand to stop me.


    "Arthur, there''s something I need to tell you. Something I''ve been trying to tell you for days." She takes a shaky breath. "Caleb knew about my allergy because we share it. We share it because..." She looks at Caleb, then back at


    1. me.


    "He''s my brother," she says. "I''m the lost Willford heir. And I''m a werewolf." Chapter 216

 Chapter 216

    hapter 216


    Iris


    "He''s my brother," I announce, my throat sore and raspy from the lingering effects of anaphctic shock. "I''m the lost Willford heir. And I''m a werewolf."


    The silence that follows my revtion is deafening. Arthur stares at me as if he''s seeing me for the first time- which, in a strange sort of way, I suppose he is. His face cycles through shock, confusion, and then something that makes my heart shatter: betrayal.


    "What?" The wordes out strangled. He looks between Caleb and me,


    searching for any sign that this is some kind of joke. But our faces remain deadly serious.


    "Arthur, please, say weakly, reaching for him despite the IV tugging at my arm. "Let me exin-"


    "Exin?" He takes a step back, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Exin how you''ve been lying to me this entire time? How you''ve been keeping secrets with him?" He gestures angrily at Caleb.


    "Arthur, it''s not her fault," Caleb interjects, and I''m both surprised and relieved that my older brother is standing up for me right now. "I was the one asked her to wait-"


    "Don''t." Arthur rounds on him now, jabbing his finger at Caleb''s chest, and I can see his wolf shing in his eyes like tiny wildfires flickering in their green depths. "Don''t you dare try to take the me for this. She made the choice to lie to me. To keep secrets from her mate."


    The pain in his voice cuts deeper than any physical wound ever could. And I know it hurts because he''s right. I made the choice to keep this from him. I let life get in the way, let myself keep saying "Tomorrow, I''ll tell him tomorrow", when really I was just afraid and looking for any excuse to not tell him.


    I should have told him from the very second I found out. He should have been the first person I went to about this, and yet I kept it from him. I turned to Caleb instead when it should have been Arthur, my mate, the father of my child.


    "How long?" he demands, his voice shaking now with anger as he looks back at me. "How long have you known?"


    My eyes fill with tears that I only just manage to hold back. Only about a week. Arthur, I tried to tell you so many times, but-"


    "A week?" Heughs bitterly. "You''ve known for a whole fucking week, and you couldn''t find five minutes to tell me that you''re not actually human? That you''re a Willford? That everything I thought I knew about you was a lie? What, did you think I was going to try to use you again or something?"


    "It''s not like that," I plead, struggling to sit up a little straighter. It''s no use, and I fall back down on the pillows with a soft grunt. Even Arthur''s face softens slightly at the sight, although his eyes are still zing with hurt and betrayal. "I wanted to tell you. I really did. I was going to tell you tonight before the party, but then your parents showed up early, and-"


    "Always an excuse," he cuts me off, his jaw clenching so hard I think he might crack his teeth. "There''s always something more important than being honest with me, isn''t there?"


    "Arthur, please,¡± Caleb says, stepping forward. "If you knew the circumstances-"


    "I don''t want to hear it from you," Arthur snaps. "In fact, I don''t want to hear anything right now. I need to think."


    Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, call his name, but he doesn''t stop. The door closes behind him with a soft click that feels like a gunshot, and the pain in my chest is like an invisible bullet lodging in

 Chapter 217

    The tears finally begin to stream down my face as I stare at the closed door. The beeping of the heart monitor elerates, matching my rising panic. I''ve ruined everything. He''ll never forgive me. He''ll take Miles and -


    "Iris, breathe,¡± Caleb says gently, moving to my bedside. He ces his hand on my arm, his palm surprisingly


    cool and smooth. "You need to calm down. You''re still recovering."


    "I''ve lost him," I sob, ignoring his warning. "He hates me now, and it''s all my fault.¡±


    "He doesn''t hate you. He''s hurt and confused, but he doesn''t hate you." Caleb pulls up a chair and sits beside my bed. "Just give him time to process. I''ll talk to him. It''s not your fault, and he''ll see that. He has to."


    I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, careful not to disturb the IV. "I''m so sorry, Caleb. I didn''t mean to spring it on you like this. I was going to tell Arthur privately first, but then everything just... spiraled."


    "Don''t apologize, Iris," he says firmly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "This is my fault, really. I shouldn''t have asked you to keep it secret in the first ce. I was just being selfish. Worrying more about the potential fallout of our rtionship going public than the effects this could have on your rtionship with Arthur."


    Caleb''s words soothe me ever so slightly, but at the same time, they make another jolt of painnce through my chest that has nothing to do with the lingering effects of my allergic reaction. Caleb really is a good person-I wish Arthur would see it. See that he''s not like Selina. Notpletely. See that none of us meant for things to go this badly.


    But right now, I know Arthur won''t listen to anyone. If there''s one thing I know about Arthur, it''s that he always needs time to think on his own before he''s ready to talk.


    We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room the beeping of the medical monitors. Then, something


    urs to me.


    "Can I ask you something?" I say, frowning. "Do you really have a kiwi allergy?"


    Caleb''s eyebrows shoot up. "Yes, of course. I''ve known since childhood. I had a bad reaction when I was five and our parents had me tested." When I blink at him in a somewhat dazed fashion, he says, "Wait, did you not know that you had it?¡±


    "No, I..." I shake my head. "I just assumed you recognized the same symptoms you have and acted quickly. I''ve never had kiwi before tonight." I hesitate, then add, ¡°Leonard suggested that I make that drink. He gave me the recipe himself. Said it was his favorite."


    Suddenly, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks.


    Leonard.


    "Wait, where are Arthur''s parents?" I blurt out. "Are they at the hospital?"


    Caleb looks confused. "They left when the ambnce came." He furrows his brow as if wracking his brain, and then his eyes slowly widen. "They seemed to be in a hurry to leave, actually."


    about


    "They knew," I breathe, sitting bolt upright despite the pain. "Leonard and Wendy -they must have kr the allergy. That''s why Leonard suggested it. He kept urging me to drink it all night, too... And then they left so quickly...."


    My stomach churns at the thought. Arthur''s parents tried to... what? Kill me? Scare me away? It feels impossible, but somehow not that impossible at the same time. Selina has already tried to kill me once; who''s to say that I wouldn''t be on someone else''s hit list?


    "Get Arthur," I say urgently, gripping Caleb''s arm. "Now.

 Chapter 218

    Arthur


    The hospital corridor is blissfully quiet and empty as I pace up and down it. The only sound other than my rapid footsteps is the buzzing of a fluorescent light flickering annoyingly at the end of the hall, as if it''s mocking me. Iris is a werewolf. A fucking werewolf. And not just any werewolf-a Willford. The lost Willford heir.


    My mate.


    The woman I''ve loved for years. The mother of my child. The woman I thought I knew.


    How did I not see it? How did I miss something so fundamental about her?


    Footsteps approach from behind, and I already know who it is before he speaks. My wolf bristles beneath my skin just at his presence.


    "Arthur.".


    Caleb''s voice makes me tense. I don''t turn around.


    "I don''t want to talk to you right now," I growl.


    "I don''t care what you want,¡± Caleb says, stepping closer. "This isn''t about you or me. It''s about Iris."


    Her name stabs at my heart. I whirl around, ready to tear into him, but he stands his ground, proud as ever. As if he didn''t try to put himself between an Alpha and his mate.


    "You''re really going to lecture me about what''s best for my mate?" I snarl,


    stepping forward until we''re almost chest to chest. "After you convinced her to lie to me for a week?"


    "Yes," Caleb says simply, adjusting the wire-rimmed sses on his nose. "Because right now, you''re acting like a child."


    My fist clenches reflexively. I''ve wanted to hit Caleb for years, and tonight, it might actually happen. "Watch yourself, Willford."


    "She needs you in there," Caleb continues, ignoring my warning. "Not out here sulking because your feelings are hurt."


    "My feelings are-" I start, then cut myself off with a bitterugh. "Do you have any idea what it''s like to find out your mate has been keeping something this massive from you? That she''s been confiding in another man-in you, of all people?"


    For a split second, something like genuine regret shes across Caleb''s face. It''s so unexpected that it momentarily takes the wind out of my sails.


    "It''s my fault," he says, and the admission sounds like it pains him. Has Caleb ever admitted to being in the wrong before? Certainly not in front of me, he hasn''t. "I convinced her to wait. I told her we needed more time to figure things out. I was... being overprotective."


    I stare at him, trying to decide if this is another one of his games. But I don''t see any of Selina''s calcted maniption in his expression, which surprises me. Those two were always like peas in a pod Selina might not be a Willford by blood, but she had to have learned her mannerisms from somewhere.


    "Why?" I finally bite out. "Why would you do that?".


    Caleb shrugs. "I''ve only known about Iris for a week myself" He looks at me directly. "It''s a major risk to have


    her identity revealed to the public before we''re ready. Hence all of the etiquette lessons-I wanted her to be prepared so no one can go after her. Your parents being concern number one."


    The honesty in his words catches me off guard. My parents are certainly shrewd and judgmental, and that''s putting it lightly. They''ve always had issues with the Willfords; they really wanted me to be the Supreme Judge of Ordan, which is technically more powerful than the President, but Caleb got the position before I did. Alpha President was just a backup n, and they''ve been bitter about it ever since.


    Regardless, they only tolerated my arrangement with Selina because she made a perfect Luna. On the outside,


    anyway.


    If they were to find out about Iris''s identity before she''s prepared, they might use it as an excuse to start a real feud with the Willfords.


    "I know we''ve never gotten along," Caleb continues. "I know you think the worst of our family because of what happened with Selfna. But Iris is different. She''s special. And the idea of her being put in the spotlight, open to criticism when she''s not ready, especially knowing just how brutal this life can be..." He shakes his head. "I wanted to protect her."


    "She''s my mate," I say, but the anger is draining from my voice. "It''s my job to protect her. Not yours. You should have told me.''


    "No offense, Arthur, but you and I don''t exactly have a shining degree of trust between us."


    I study his face for a long moment. I hate that I''m thinking this, but he''s not wrong.


    If I had been in his position, I might have done the same.


    "Anyway, you need to talk to her," he adds when I don''t respond. "It''s about the kiwi drink. Something about your father being involved...?"


    For a moment, I want tough. The idea is absurd. My parents might be cold, calcting, and overly focused on bloodlines, but attempted murder? That''s a stretch.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 219

    But even as I think it, the first tendrils of doubt begin to wrap around my intestines. They''ve never epted Iria. They''ve made that painfully clear.


    With a nod, I turn and make my way toward Iris''s room.


    When we return to Iris''s hospital room, she''s sitting upright in bed. The sight of her pale, drawn face makes my steps falter. I want to kick myself. I almost lost her tonight, and here I am, pacing around like a caged animal because my feelings are hurt.


    Caleb was right about me, wasn''t he?


    She perks up when she sees ine, and her amber eyes begin to shimmer immediately with tears. "Arthur, I''m sorry-


    I cross the room in three strides and sit on her bed, wrapping my anns around her and holding her gently. "No. I''m the one who should apologize," I say softly into her hair. "I''m sorry I walked out."


    She lets out a small sigh of relief, but when she pulls back, her faces grim. "Arthur, I think your parents might have known about the kiwi. Your father gave me the recipe for the cocktail, and he was oddly pushy about me drinking it. And then Caleb told me they left so quickly when I copsed...¡±


    "I''ll talk to them," I promise her, squeezing her hand gently. "I''ll find out the truth."


    She blinks. "You believe me?"


    "I believe you''re concerned, and that''s enough for me," I say. "I can''t imagine my parents doing something like that, but if you think it''s a possibility, then I won''t rule it out."


    Tears well up in her eyes again, and she blinks them back. "I''m so sorry, Arthur. I should have told you everything from the beginning. I wanted to, so many times, but..."


    "But Caleb asked you not to," I finish for her, casting a nce at the man still standing near the door. He has the grace to look slightly ashamed.


    Iris nods. "It wasn''t just that. I was scared. Finding out I''m a werewolf, a Willford... my whole identity has been turned upside down. I didn''t know how to tell you, really, and I kept making up excuses in my head. Anything to keep putting it off."


    That doesn''t surprise me as much as it probably should. I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger against her temple, and she leans slightly into my touch, her eyes never pulling away from mine. "It must feel like you''re walking in a dream," I say.


    She nods quickly and lets out a wry littleugh. "Yeah. I keep pinching myself so much that my arms hurt."


    I can''t help butugh at that. Even Caleb, still standing in the doorway, snorts slightly. "My mate is a werewolf," I muse. "After all this time... Do you feel any different?"


    Iris shakes her head. "Not really. I think that''s why I''m having such a hard time wrapping my head around it. I still feel like a human, and I guess for all intents and purposes, I still am. It''s not like I have a wolf or anything."


    I open my mouth to respond, but just then, a familiar little presencees barrelling into the room.


    "Mommy!" Miles leaps onto the bed, making Iris wince slightly-but she''s smiling as she wraps her arms around him and pulls


    him close.


    I look over to see Alice and Hunter standing in the doorway, both slightly out of breath. "We came as soon as we could," Alice. exins. "But there was an ident on Main Street and the police had it blocked off. And someone refused to use a GPS for the


    detour." She shoots Hunter a withering re.


    Hunter''s face reddens slightly. "I thought I knew the alternative way to the hospital, but I was wrong."


    Miles eyes the medical equipment with suspicion. "Are you still sick, Mommy?" he asks.


    "I had an allergic reaction," Is exins gently. "But I''m going to be okay now."


    Miles nods solemnly, then tills his head. "What were you and Daddy talking about? I heard you say you''re a werewolf,"


    Iris looks at me, and we share a brief moment of understanding.


    the most ptable terms we can manage for a five year old,


    we exin the situation. Hunter and Alice gasp from the doorway, whispering


    amongst themselves, but they don''t interrupt as we exin.


    When we''re finished, Miles seems to consider for a moment, then breaks into a wide grin. "Cool! Does that mean I have an extra grandma and grandpa now?" He wrinkles his nose, "I don''t really like the other ones."


    I have to hold back a snort.


    Iris, however, looks uncertain and nces at Caleb. He clears his throat.


    "Actually, I spoke with them earlier," he says warmly. "They want to meet you-all


    of you as soon as possible. They''ve been waiting for this moment for twenty-six years."

 Chapter 220

    Arthur


    My parents'' house looks exactly the same as it always has. The driveway is perfectly maintained. Thewn is manicured within an inch of its life. Even the flowers that line the walkway seem to stand at attention, afraid to lean too far in any direction for fear of being cut away by my mother''s gardening shears.


    I park my car and sit for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I still can''t believe I''m here to question my parents about attempted murder. The very thought is


    ludicrous. My father may be maniptive, conniving, and borderline ruthless in his political machinations, but murder?,


    That''s a line I never thought he''d cross.


    Then again, I hardly even know my father. To me, he''s just the drill sergeant who raised me for his own political gain.


    With a deep breath, I exit the car and make my way to the front door. Before I can even knock, it swings open to reveal my mother, looking as polished as ever in a cream-colored pantsuit and not a single silver hair out of ce.


    "Arthur," she says. "What a lovely surprise."


    "Mother. Is Father home?".


    "Of course. He''s in his study. Come in, I''ll make tea."


    I follow her inside, noting how absolutely nothing has changed since myst visit. The same austere furniture, the same beige walls, the same family portraits hanging in perfect symmetry along the hallway. My childhood home feels more like a museum than a ce where anyone actually lives.


    My father emerges from his study as we pass, his reading sses perched on the bridge of his nose. "Arthur," he says, looking mildly surprised. "I didn''t expect to see you today."


    "I thought I''d stop by." I keep my tone casual, watching his face carefully. Does he look guilty? Nervous? It''s impossible to tell. My father has always been a master at concealing his emotions. "Afterst night''s... excitement."


    Something flickers in his eyes, but it''s gone so quickly I might have imagined it. "Yes, quite the unfortunate incident," he says smoothly. "How is your mate faring?"


    The way he says "mate" makes my teeth clench, like Iris is some sort of pet I''ve decided to keep around, but I try not to show my


    reaction.


    "She''s recovering," I say shortly. "The doctors kept her overnight for observation."


    "Good, good," my father murmurs, already turning back toward his study. "Join me, won''t you? Your mother can bring the tea there."


    I hesitate before following him into the office. As a kid, he only ever called me in there when he wanted to punish me for stupid shit like running in the house or getting a B on a test. Then, as I got older, he only invited me in when he wanted to give me


    orders or lectures.


    Finally, I follow him in and shut the door behind me.


    "Sit." He gestures to one of the leather armchairs across from his massive desk. I feel like a dog that''s-beingmanded.


    I remain standing. "I''d rather not. This won''t take long."


    My father raises an eyebrow but doesn''tment. Even he knows that I''m the Alpha President now, not a kid to be bossed around. He sits in his chair and folds his hands in hisp. "What''s on your mind, son?"


    "Last night," I say bluntly. "Iris almost died."


    "Yes, allergies can be quite serious. It''s fortunate that Caleb Willford was there with medication." His voice is clinical, as if


    we''re discussing a stranger''s minor inconvenience rather than my mate nearly dying in front of us.


    "Quite a coincidence, isn''t it?" I press, watching him carefully, at the one drink you rmended contained the very thing she''s deathly allergic to?"


    My father''s expression doesn''t change. "Yes, I suppose so."


    "Did you know Iris is allergic to kiwi?"


    My father blinks at me. ¨¤ long moment passes between us. From the hallway, I can hear the gentle clinking of china as my mother prepares the tea. I almost forgot how eerily quiet this house can be; no music, noughter, not even the sound of birds chirping in the gardens, as it even the wildlife avoids this entire property.


    "Don''t be ridiculous," my father finally says with augh. "How would I possibly know something like that?"


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 221

    "I don''t know. You tell me.''


    The door opens, and my mother enters with a silver tea tray. "Here we are," she announces cheerfully. She sets the tray on a side table and begins pouring. "Leonard, darling, one sugar or two"


    "Two," my father answers without taking his eyes off of me.


    My mother hands him his cup, then turns to me with another cup. Arthur?"


    "No, thank you."


    She frowns. "But I''ve already poured it."


    "I said no."


    My mother''s frown deepens, but she sets the cup down and takes a seat in the other armchair. "What are you two discussing so seriously?"


    "Arthur seems to think I deliberately poisoned his mate," my father says lightly. My mother''s eyes widen. "Arthur! What a horrible thing to use your father of." "Is it?" I ask, looking between them. "Because it seems awfully convenient that the one thing Iris is deathly allergic to just happened to be the main ingredient in a cocktail Father insisted she serve at her party."


    "It''s my favorite drink," my father protests mildly. "I had no idea she was allergic to kiwi. Did you, Wendy?"


    My mother shakes her head. "Of course not. How would we know something like that?"


    I study them both. They seem genuinely confused by my usation.


    "Regardless," my father continues, taking a sip of his tea, "I fail to see why you''re so upset about this. These things happen. Humans are fragile creatures."


    And there it is. Even if they didn''t deliberately poison Iris, they clearly don''t care that she nearly died.


    "Fragile or not, she''s my mate," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "The mother of my son."


    My father waves a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes. But honestly, Arthur, you could do so much better. There are plenty of suitable females who would make a proper Luna. This dalliance with a human has gone on long enough."


    "It''s not a dalliance," I growl. "And it''s not going to end."


    "Oh, Arthur, be reasonable," my mother interjects. "Think of Miles. Don''t you want him to have a chance at life? She''s only holding him back. His behavioral issues would go away in a heartbeat with the proper structure."


    I can''t help butugh out loud with that. "Right. Maybe I should raise him with an iron fist like you two raised me."


    My mother simply shrugs. "Your father and I did what was necessary to ensure you didn''t run amok. And you turned out perfectly well, aside from this... one obsession you have."


    "Obsession? How many times do I have to say that Iris is my mate? You two are mates. You should know just how important that bond is."


    My father sets down his teacup with a clink. "A mate bond isn''t the be-all-end-all of a marriage. She''s a nobody, Arthur. A human ''artist'' who can''t even stand up properly for photographs. She''ll drag your career through the mud."


    Goddess, how badly I want to tell them who Iris really is. A Willford A werewolf. The thought still makes my head spin. But I can''t tell them yet.


    "Well, regardless of what you think," I say curtly, turning toward the door, "I''m the Alpha President, and Iris is my mate. You


    will both treat her with respect, or you will not be a part of our lives It''s that simple."


    My father rises to his feet. "You would choose that human nobody over your own blood?"


    "In a heartbeat," I reply without hesitation.


    With that, I pull open the door and stride down the hallway, past the perfect portraits and the perfect furniture in this perfect, hollow house. The front door closes behind me with a satisfying td, and I take a deep breath of fresh air. My parents don''t deign to follow me.


    As I make my way to my car, I can''t help but smile wryly at the thought of my father''s face when he discovers that his son''s "


    a werewolf from one of the oldest, wealthiest families in the nobody human" mate


    is actually the long-lost Willford heir- world.


    It''s going to be quite the show.

 Chapter 222

    Iris


    My palms are sweaty as Ezra parks the car in front of the main entrance to my parents'' estate. I check my reflection in mypact mirror onest time-hair neatly brushed, light makeup simple but elegant dress. I look put together, but my insides feel like they''re on fire.


    We exit the car, and I help Miles out of his seat. He immediately grabs my hand, sensing my anxiety. He''s being remarkably calm, which I appreciate more than he could possibly know. Arthur takes my other hand and gives it a squeeze as we walk up the path.


    The front door opens before we reach it. Caleb steps out, grinning They''re waiting in the srium," he says, then adds in a whisper to me, "Mom hasn''t stopped crying all morting."


    The word "Mom" makes my throat tighten. I''ve never had a mom before. Not even an adoptive one. No one wanted the human" kids at the orphanage, Little did they know that I wasn''t one.


    Caleb leads us through the mansion, which is every bit as impressive as I remember. High ceilings, marble floors, artwork that probably costs more than my entire life savings. My focus narrows to the double doors at the end of a long hallway.


    The doors swing open to reveal a bright, airy greenhouse room filled with nts and bathed in natural light. And there they are -my parents-standing nervously in the center of the room.


    My mother, Maeve, is tall and elegant, with the same amber eyes as mine and the loveliest head of golden hair I''ve ever seen. My father, Francis, is distinguished and muscr, with salt-and-pepper hair, a perfect mustache, and a strong jawline. The perfect picture of werewolf nobility.


    They both freeze when they see me, and for a moment, we all just stare at each other in disbelief.


    Then my mother lets out a small sob and rushes forward, pulling me into her arms. "Iris," she whispers against my hair. "My baby girl."


    The dam breaks then, and suddenly I''m crying too, clinging to this woman who gave birth to me twenty-six years ago. I can''t speak, can''t think, can only feel the overwhelming sense that I''ve finally found where I belong.


    My father joins the embrace, his strong arms wrapping around both of us. "You look just like your mother," he says, and his words make it feel so much more real, as if my dream state has finally given way to bright, ring reality.


    We stand like that for what feels like an eternity, this tangle of limbs and tears and joy. It''s Miles who finally breaks the spell, tugging at my dress. "Mommy, why is everyone crying?"


    Iugh through my tears and pull back, wiping my eyes. "Because we''re happy, sweetie. These are your grandparents."


    My mother-I still can''t believe I have a mother-kneels down to Miles'' level. "Hello, Miles. I''m your grandmother, but you can call me Nana if you like."


    Miles shrinks away from her, avoiding her gaze. "Do you have any toys?"


    I bite my lip at Miles'' bluntness, but to my surprise and delight, my parents don''t bat an eye. ¡°Yes. As a matter of fact,¡± my father says, ¡°we have a whole yroom set up for you. Would you like to see it?"


    Miles'' eyes widen, and he looks at me as if for confirmation. I give him a nod, and he bashfully whispers, still staring at the floor, "Yes, please."


    "I''ll take him," Caleb offers. "Let you all get acquainted."


    As Caleb leads Miles away, my mother takes my hands in hers, studying my face. "You look so much like me at your age," she says. "Except for your nose."


    "My nose..." I whisper, touching it self-consciously.


    My father chuckles. "That''s apliment, darling." He taps his own nose. "The one trait you share with me-thank the Goddess you didn''t inherit any hing else from your brute of an old man. But a Willford nose is quite strong and distinctive. Powerful. And quite lovely on your beautiful face."


    I can''t help but blush at that. I''ve always thought my nose was strange and unseemly, but now that I''m witnessing my parents for the first time and seeing everything I''ve inherited from them, have a whole different perspective on my appearance.


    "Please, sit," my mother says, gesturing to a seating area by the windows. "We have so much to talk about."


    Arthur, who''s been hanging back, follows us to the couches. My father eyes him warily but extends a hand. ¡°Alpha President,¡± he says formally.


    "Mr. Willford," Arthur replies.


    The tension between them is palpable. I wonder if they got along when Selina was in the picture. But then again, Selina is still their daughter, even if she wasn''t supposed to be. They''re probably wary after what happened. I can''t me them, but I do hope the bad feelings will ease over time.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 223

    My mother, thankfully, ignores the male posturing. "Iris, we''ve heard that you''re an artist," she says eagerly. "We''d love to see your work."


    "Oh!" I suddenly remember the package I''ve been clutching. "Actually, I brought something. For both of you." I hand them the small wrapped canvas.


    My mother carefully removes the paper to reveal the painting I stayed upte finishing¡ªa portrait of Miles ying on the beach. He''sughing, dark hair windswept and flecked with sea salt. He''s kicking at the water that he''s standing ankle-deep in, and a spray of it is arcing over his head, catching the light of the setting sun. The whole picture looks like it''s shimmering.


    "Iris," my mother breathes. "This is extraordinary."


    "The level of detail is remarkable," my father agrees, peering closely at the canvas. "You''re truly talented."


    A warm glow spreads through my chest at their praise. "Thank you Art has always been my passion.''


    "And it should be," my mother says firmly. "We''ll have to see about getting you a proper studio here."


    "Here?" I blink in surprise.


    "Well, of course," my father says, as if it''s the most natural thing in the world. "This is your home too, Iris. We have more than enough space."


    Arthur remains silent, but stiffens slightly beside me. We haven''t had a chance to talk about ittely, but there was talk of moving back in with him once my residency is up.


    I can tell he''s not thrilled about the idea of me moving in with my parents, not that he''d stop me if I wanted to. But their home is far outside the city and would put a lot of distance between Arthur and I if I did move in, and I''m not sure if I want that.


    "I-thank you," I stammer, not quite sure how to respond. "But I have my apartment, and my residency at the Abbott Gallery..." "The space is here for visits or if you decide you want to live here," my mother assures me. "And as for Miles, we''ve prepared a suite and a nanny for him here as well, just in case. Our nanny is specially trained with children on the spectrum, so you don''t need to worry."


    My eyes widen. I look at Arthur, but he looks just as dumbfounded as I am. "How... How did you know?" I ask.


    My mother''s expression softens. "My brother-your uncle Thomas-was autistic," she says gently. "He passed away a few years ago, but I grew up with him. I know the signs."


    I''m at a loss for words. They''re epting Miles-something that so many people have refused to do before. Arthur''s parents have already made it perfectly clear that Miles'' differences are a burden, something to be fixed.


    The very thought that Miles finally has a family that epts him brings tears of joy to my eyes.


    The conversation flows easily after that. They tell me about my family history- apparently, my great-great-great grandmother was the first Supreme Judge of Ordan. My grandfather was a decorated veteran. They show me family albums full of pictures. They ask countless questions about my life, my interests, my hopes for the future.


    Through it all, Arthur sits quietly beside me, offering the asional word or nod but not saying much other than that. I can tell he''s slightly ufortable. They all are; my father often looks at Arthur with obvious distrust, and my mother seems to be actively avoiding eye contact with him.


    After what feels like hours, my parents exchange meaningful look.


    "Iris," my father says. "We''ve been discussing your public debut as a Willford."


    My throat bobs. I knew this wasing.


    "Now, you''re perfect the way you are,


    but


    your introduction to society is very important," my mother exins. "As our


    daughter and heir to the Willford estate, it needs to be handled carefully." She gives Arthur a meaningful look, as if to silently say that he didn''t exactly do a tang-up job of helping me with my initial debut as his mate. "We think a ball here at the estate would be perfect."


    "A... ball?"


    "We''ve already started making arrangements,¡± my father adds. though of course, there''s still much to do. You''ll need more training first-proper etiquette, a custom gown for your debut..."


    My mother grins. "And dance lessons."


    ????

 Chapter 224

    Irist


    "Keep your chin up and shoulders back, Miss Willford! And one-two-three, one- two-three. No, no, no! You''re leading again!"


    I bite back a frustrated groan as Madame Laurent, the ancient dance instructor my parents hired for me, stops the music for what feels like the hundredth time in the past hour. Her thin lips press together with obvious


    1


    disappointment as she circles Arthur and me, prodding at my shoulders, neck, and arms with her knotted old fingers.


    Madame Laurent is apparently one of the most prestigious ballroom dance instructors in Ordan. The cr¨¨me de cr¨¨me.


    She''s also a fucking drill sergeant.


    "The waltz is the backbone of high society," she barks. "It''s not just a dance-it is a statement. And right now, you are making a very poor statement indeed."


    My cheeks burn with embarrassment. It''s been three weeks since I met my parents, and every day since then has been filled with some kind of training- etiquette lessons, political history tutoring, fashion consultations, and now, dancing.


    Oh, the joy.


    "I''m trying," I mutter, wiping my sweaty palms against my skirt, which is heavy, cumbersome, and wide- practice for the ballgown I''ll be wearing for my debut. "Trying is not good enough," Madame Laurent snaps. "The Willford Ball is in two weeks. In two weeks, you will be presented to the world as the lost heir. And the dance-"she makes a dramatic gesture with her bony hands," -the dance is the centerpiece of that presentation!"


    She''s right, of course. Apparently, Willford tradition states that every heir must perform a dance at their public debut. It''s highly anticipated, and failure is seen as a bad omen. Back in the olden days, it was believed that if an heir couldn''t properly execute the footwork, then they would trod all over the family name in the same way. Or something like that.


    I don''t think my parents actually believe that now. But this dance is still very important.


    Arthur, who has been surprisingly patient through all of this, gives my hand a small squeeze. ¡°Perhaps we should take a short break,¡± he suggests.


    Madame Laurent looks like he just pissed on her shoe, but even she seems to recognize that the Alpha President won''t take no for an answer. "Very well. Five minutes,¡± she relents with a huff, stalking across the marble floor toward the stereo system.


    Once she''s out of earshot, I let my head drop against Arthur''s chest. "I can''t do this," I whisper. "I''m going to humiliate myself in front of everyone. Again."


    "You won''t," he says, his hand rubbing small circles on my back. "You''re just overthinking it."


    "Easy for you to say. You''ve probably been dancing at fancy balls since you were in diapers. I only vaguely know how to sway and spin because of our living room dancing sessions."


    He chuckles. "Not quite that young, but close enough."


    I look up at him, studying his face. Despite the tension between him and my newly-discovered family, Arthur has


    been incredibly supportive throughout this whole process. He attends every lesson with me, stands up for me when my Instructors get too harsh, and has practically rearranged his entire schedule to amodate my trailing.


    He''s amazing. And I''m not cut out for this. I belong in a messy art studio in my yellow cardigan with the hole in the sleeve, not in a ballroom wearing enormous skirts with people watching my every move.


    "Time''s up!" Madame Laurent announces, even though it''s only been, like, two minutes at the most. "Back to your positions, please."


    With a sigh, I return to Arthur''s arms, trying to remember all the rules. Back straight but not stiff. Chin up but not too high. Right hand on his shoulder, left hand in his. Elbows at the right angle. Don''t look at your feet.


    The music starts again, and we begin to move. One-two-three, one-two-three. For the first few beats, I actually manage to follow, but then Arthur turns and I go in the wrong direction, stepping squarely on his foot.


    *

 Chapter 225

    "1" He winces


    "I''m so sorry!" 1 freeze in ce, thortified


    Madame Laurent stops the music with a drama sighs willford, you''re thinking too much with your hea and not enough with your body"


    "What does that even mean?" I mutter. "I''m not a dancer an artist. I spend my days alone in studios with paint on my hands, not waltzing around ballrooms


    "Perhaps that''s the problem," Arthur says suddenly when you paint, you''re in your own world, right? just you and the canvas"


    I nod, not sure where he''s going with this.


    "But right now, you''re hyper-aware of Madame Laurent watching you, of me leading you, of your patents expectations..." He reaches up and loosens his fie. "What if we eliminated some of those distractions?"


    Before I can ask what he means, he''s slipping the tie from around his neck and stepping behind me "Do you trust me?" he asks softly.


    "Of course," I answer without hesitation.


    He ces the silk tie over my eyes, tying it securely at the back of my head. The world goes dark, and suddenly, all I can sense is Arthur-his scent, the warmth of his body close to mine, the gentle pressure of his hands guiding me back into position.


    "What is the meaning of this?" Madame Laurent sputters.


    Arthur simply takes his position again, and the sensation of his warm hand settling on my waist is even more intoxicating than usual with one of my senses blocked out. Start the music, please."


    There''s a moment of silence, then the waltz begins again. I''m tense at first, terrified of stumbling blindly across the dance floor.


    "Rx," Arthur murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "Don''t think about the steps, Feel them through me. Pretend we''re in the living room, dancing to a vinyl record."


    His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer. His other hand holds mine securely. Without my sight, these points of contact be my entire world-the way his chest moves as he breathes, the way his feet shift against the floor, the sound of his low voice softly humming to the music.


    For a moment, I can picture it; our quiet apartment in the middle of the night, the gentle flickering of a candle, the crickets chirping outside the window.


    Home.


    And then, somehow, I''m dancing. Really dancing, not just mechanically counting steps. My body follows his as if we''re two parts of the same organism. When he turns, I turn. When he steps back, I follow forward. It''s like the blindfold has shut down the overthinking part of my brain and allowed my body to take over, and, oh, how wonderful it feels.


    "Yes!" Madame Laurent cries out. "Magnificent! Keep going!"


    Arthur leads me through spins and turns that I would never have managed with my eyes open. There''s a freedom in this darkness, like surrendering to the familiarity of his body-the familiarity that neither of us lost, not even once, after five years apart.


    The music swells, and Arthur''s movements be more dramatic. He dips me low, one hand strong against my back, then pulls me up into a tight spin that leaves me dizzy and giggling. As the final notes approach, he guides me through a series of quick, intricate steps that I execute perfectly.


    With a flourish, he spins me out, then pulls me back in as the music reaches its crescendo. The momentum brings me crashing against his chest, and at the same moment, the blindfold-loosened by all our movement-slips from my eyes and falls to the floor.


    The world rushes back, but all I can see is Arthur. His green eyes, his dark hair with that one dastardly curl free from its restraints. His arm is still wrapped tightly around my waist, holding me so close I can feel his heart pounding in time with mine.


    We''re both breathing hard, our faces mere inches apart. His eyes drop to my lips, and I feel a familiar flutter in my stomach.


    "There," he whispers. "You''re a natural."

 Chapter 226

    Iris


    "Arms up, please, Miss Willford."


    I raise my arms dutifully as Violetta, the most sought-after human designer in Ordan, circles me with pins held between her lips. Her assistant hovers nearby, clutching a pincushion and looking nervous, as if expecting me to suddenly copse under the weight of the fabric that''s draped around my frame.


    I don''t me her; this gewn is fucking enormous.


    "A little higher, please," Violetta murmurs around her pins. "I need to check the draping on the bodice."


    I stretch my arms higher, my shoulders already aching from holding still for so long. We''ve been at this for over two hours now, and I''m starting to lose feeling in my feet. But I don''tin-not when the gown is finally nearly finished after weeks of nning.


    My debut gown. Even thinking the words feels bizarre. The ball is tomorrow, and it feels so surreal.


    "Mmm, I need to take in the waist just a touch more," Violetta says, cing a pin at my side. "You''re slimmer than our initial measurements indicated."


    "Sorry," I mutter. "Must be all the dancing lessons." And the stress, if I''m being honest; it''s been gnawing at me, and it''s been getting worse as the days tick closer to my debut. I hardly even sleptst night because I kept agonizing over the uing ball.


    She waves off my apology. "It''s no trouble. Weight fluctuates. We''re all human." She nces at me. "Well... you know what I mean." I can''t help butugh at that, and Violetta cringes as the movement makes one of the pinned portions stretch.


    I have to admit, the gown is stunning. When my mother first introduced me to the designer, she''d expected me to choose one of her standard debutante designs- something ssic and elegant, with clean lines and traditional


    beadwork.


    Instead, I showed her my paintings.


    Specifically, I showed her the one I''d done of Miles when he was barely two years old, sitting in a field of wildflowers in Bo''Arrocan, sunlight streaming through his dark hair, his chubby hands plucking at the petals.


    It was one of those perfect, peaceful moments where everything felt right.


    "This," I''d told the designer, pointing to the wildflowers surrounding my son. "I want to look like this."


    Two dayster, she presented me with a design that took my breath away. Rather than the traditional white or pastel debutante gown, she envisioned a dress the color of a summer field, a delicate sage greenyered with embroidered petals in varying shades of yellow, purple, and white-like wildflowers growing up from the ground.


    The bodice would be encrusted with tiny crystal beads catching the light like morning dew, and the skirt wasposed ofyers uponyers of gauzy fabric that would sway when I move.


    Now, standing here in the almostpleted gown, I finally feel like myself again.


    I was so afraid of losing my identity in all of this-especially after my disastrous first attempt at being Arthur''s Luna, when Selina''s old stylist had practically forced me into Selina''s leftover clothes and makeup. I''d felt like a cheap knock-off, a poor imitation of the woman who hade before me.


    But this... this is me. Even if I''mpletely, utterly terrified about the ball, at least


    I don''t feel like I''m masquerading as another person.^


    "There," Violetta says, cing the final pin. She steps back her critical eye scanning every inch of the gown." Now, let''s see the movement.¡±


    I carefully make my way to the center of the room, mindful of the pins, and do a slow turn. Theyers swirl around me with ease, causing each petal to catch the light as it moves. It''s like standing in the middle of a field on a breezy day with flowers dancing around my ankles.


    "Beautiful," the designer murmurs, and even her usually stoic assistant nods in agreement.


    The door suddenly opens, and Caleb sticks his head in. "Is it safe toe in? Mother sent me to check on the progress."


    "Come in,e in." Violetta waves him forward. "We''re just finishing up."


    Caleb steps into the room, and his usual confident stride falters as he catches sight of me. His mouth actually drops open, an expression I''ve never seen on my normallyposed brother''s face.


    "Holy shit," he breathes. I''m not quite sure if I''ve ever heard him curse before.


    He approaches slowly, circling me the way he did the first time we met-only this


    time, instead of assessing me, he seems genuinely awestruck.


    "Iris," he says, "you look... you already look the part."

 Chapter 227

    Dot, though? Am I really ready for this debut, or am I just wearing a pretty dress?


    The question haunts me all day, through the rest of the fitting, through dinner with my parents, through the drive back to the


    One day. Just one day until I have to stand in front of hundreds of people- politicians, celebrities, society figures -and be presented as the long-lost Willford heir. One more day until I have to dance with Arthur in front of all those judging eyes.


    One more day until I have to put myself and my son at risk of judgment. Again.


    Who am I kidding? I can''t do this. I''m not a socialite, not a princess, not an heiress. I''ve already embarrassed myself multiple times. The pressure is even more immense now that I''m a Willford.


    They''re going to eat me alive.


    I''m getting ready for a shower when it happens. I grip the bathroom sink as a wave of dizziness takes over me. My chest begins to heave. I can''t breathe. The room begins to spin, and I think I might vomit. But I know I''m not sick.


    This is a panic attack.


    When was thest time I had one of these? I used to get them a lot when I was younger, still living in the orphanage, but I genuinely can''t recall thest time I had one-college, maybe? Right before a final presentation?


    Just as I feel like I''m about to copse, there''s a soft knock at the door. "Iris?" Arthur''s gentle voice filters through. He''s spending the night with me tonight. Shit.


    I don''t want him to hear this. "Are you okay?"


    I want to say yes, but when I open my mouth, all thates out is a strangled sob.


    The door opens immediately, and then Arthur is there, strong arms wrapping around me, pulling me against his chest. "Hey," he says softly, "I''ve got you. Just breathe with me. It''s just a panic attack."


    The way he holds me brings me back to times that have long passed. I remember the way he used to hold me at night, soothing me when the anxiety was too much to bear. He always knew exactly what to do, what to say or not say, and it seems he never lost that ability.


    I focus on the rise and fall of his chest, trying to match my breathing to his just like


    I used to. Slowly, the tightness in my lungs eases, and the room stops spinning.


    "I''m sorry," I whisper against his shirt. "I don''t know what came over me."


    "Don''t apologize." His hand strokes my hair soothingly. "Talk to me. What''s going on?"


    I pull back just enough to look up at him. "What if I can''t do this, Arthur? What if I make a fool of myself again? What if I embarrass my family, or you, or ruin Miles'' future-"


    "Stop," he says gently, cupping my face in his hands. "You''re going to be amazing. You always are. And even if you weren''t-which is impossible-I''d still be standing right beside you, proud to be your mate."


    "I wish I felt half as confident as you do," I whisper with a tinyugh that has very little humor in it.


    Arthur smirks. "Trust me, I get just as terrified before I have to do anything in public. That''s why fate brought us together, though, isn''t it? So support each other?"


    I nod, and he leans down and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is just a gentle one, and yet...


    A heat spreads through me, starting where our lips meet and flowing outward to every nerve ending, and it has


    nothing to do with the steam from the shower filling the bathroom. It''s like nothing I''ve ever felt before-more intense, more primal than simple desire. Suddenly, as if a switch has been flipped, my body responds to his with a ferocity that surprises me. My hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. The feeling is overwhelming, a hunger that''s both familiar and entirely new.


    I feel something stirring deep inside of me, something wild and untamed.


    Something that recognizes him as mine.


    As I melt into him, giving myself over to the sensation, I know with sudden rity


    that I need him¡ªnot just forfort or reassurance, but with a desperation that


    feels almost feral. I need his touch, his scent, his strength.


    I need him now.


    Because I am a werewolf, and he is my mate.

 Chapter 228

    Trist


    With my hands on his chest, Arthur gently backs me against the bathroom sink. He lifts me slightly so I''m sitting on the edge of the cool porcin. I wrap my legs around him instinctively, pulling him closer as his mouth trails down my neck.


    "Are you sure you want this?" he murmurs against my corbone. "We don''t have to-"


    "I want this," I breathe, threading my fingers through his hair. "I need this."


    When he pulls back to look at me, I gasp softly. His eyes are glowing-that vibrant, toxic green that only appears when his wolf is close to the surface. It''s always been a turn on, seeing that primal side of him emerge because of me, and right now is no different.


    But then his expression changes. His eyes widen slightly, lips parting in surprise. "What?" ask, suddenly self-conscious.


    Arthur shakes his head, blinking like he just saw a ghost. "Your eyes..."


    Frowning, I reach up and brush my fingers across my cheekbone. "What about them?"


    "They glowed," he says, sounding almost in awe. "Just for a second, but I swear they glowed."


    My heart skips a beat. "Really? Are you sure?"


    "I''m sure.¡± His thumb traces my eyshes, making me shiver. "Your wolf might be closer to emerging than we thought."


    The idea sends a thrill through me-mixed with a healthy dose of fear. After living my entire life as a human, the concept of having a wolf inside of me is still bizarre and, frankly, almost alien.


    On one hand, I''m excited to experience this side of myself, to fully understand what it means to be a werewolf and be epted by the society atrge.


    On the other hand, it''s terrifying to think about surrendering control to an animal instinct that I''ve never felt before.


    But right now, with Arthur''s body pressed against mine and desire clouding my thoughts, and with steam filling the air around us, the excitement is definitely winning out.


    I kiss him again, harder this time, pushing all my confusion and fear and tion into the kiss. His hands find the hem of my t-shirt and pull it over my head in one smooth motion. My fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt until I get impatient and just yank, sending buttons scattering across the bathroom floor.


    "Sorry," I mutter against his mouth.


    Heughs. "I have more shirts."


    Our movements are frantic now, bordering on desperate. We''ve done this dance a hundred times before, and multiple times in the past weeks, but tonight feels oddly different-more urgent somehow. Maybe it''s the stress of the uing debut.


    Or maybe it''s the possibility that my wolf is stirring.


    Whatever it is, I can''t get enough of him. It''s like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air and the only way I can breathe is through his lungs.


    I slide his shirt off his broad shoulders, running my hands over the familiar nes of his muscr chest. My fingers brush across the peaks of muscles, his nipples, the-line that runs down into his trousers.


    He unsps my bra with practiced ease, his mouth immediately finding my breast. I arch into him with a gasp as his tongue circles my nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through me.


    The shower, which has been running this whole time, has almost entirely clouded the room with steam. Arthur''s hands move to the waistband of my pajama shorts, pushing them down along with my underwear. I kick them off, nowpletely naked while he''s still half-dressed.


    "Not fair," I breathe, tugging at his belt.


    He grins and helps me, stepping out of his pants and boxers in one go. Now we''re


    both naked, skin to skin, nothing between us but steam and desire.


    But before we get into the shower, Arthur drops to his knees in front of me, spreading my legs wider. His mouth finds my pussy, his tongue exploring every fold and crevice with maddening precision.


    No matter how many times we do this, I''m always struck by how he knows exactly how to touch me, where to lick, when to suck. It''s not long before I''m clutching the edge of the sink, my head thrown back, a cry escaping my lips as pleasure washes over me.


    Before I''ve evene down from that high, he''s standing again and lifting me off the sink. ¡°Shower," he growls, his eyes still that brilliant, glowing green.


    We stumble into the shower together, the hot water streaming over our bodies. Arthur presses me against the wall, and I don''t even have a chance to gasp from the sudden shock of the cold tiles against my skin before his mouth is finding mine again. His hands slide down my wet body, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his waist.


    "I need you," I gasp, digging my nails into his shoulders as the first poke of his erect member nearly makes me cry out with want. "Now."

 Chapter 229

    He doesn''t need to be told twice. With one smooth thrust, his cock is fully seated inside of me, stretching me from all angles. I moan at the sensation, clinging to him as he begins to move. The water adds more friction than lubrication, but that added pressure just makes the feeling even more exquisite, the perfect dose of pain with the pleasure.


    As he slowly thrusts in and out, jerking his hips to fully stretch me, Arthur reaches for the bottle of body wash and squirts some into his palm. His soapy hands glide over my skin, caressing my breasts, my stomach, between my legs. His palm lingers on my clit, rubbing in a firm, slow circle as his hips push in, then pull out.


    Freturn the favor, sliding my hands down his chest, over his ass, delighting in the way his breath hitches when i touch him.


    Quickly, our movements be more frantic, more desperate once again. The steam, the soap, the water- everything blurs together until there''s nothing but sensation. I''m close, so close, and I can tell from the way Arthur''s rhythm falters that he is too.


    "Arthur," I gasp, clinging to him. My legs begin to tremble, but this time, it has nothing to do with anxiety.


    "Let go,¡± he whispers. He grips my thighs and hoists me up so I''m pinned between his body and the slick shower wall, relyingpletely on the strength of his arms supporting me. "I''ve got you."


    And I do. Wave after wave of pleasure wracks my body. My muscles tighten around his cock, moans muffled by his mouth covering mine. Arthur follows a momentter, his face buried in my neck as he groans my name. Each jerk, each twitch of him inside of me makes me feel like I''m going to burst.


    And then, all too soon, our movements slow and he gently lowers me. Not just to my feet, but all the way to his knees, holding my body close beneath the hot water as he carefully pulls himself out of me.


    For a long moment, we just sit there under the spray, holding each other and catching our breath. Finally, Arthur reaches for the shampoo, squirting some into his palm. He massages it into my hair with gentle fingers, taking his time. I do the same for him, and can''t tear my gaze away as he gently closes his eyes and enjoys my touch.


    We finish washing, slow and gentle. After about ten minutes, Arthur turns off the water and grabs a towel, wrapping it around me before getting one for himself. I step out of the shower, drying off as he does the same.


    As I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, I lean in close, examining my eyes. They look normal-the same honey amber they''ve always been. Nothing out of the ordinary.


    "Will I look different?" I ask, suddenly worried. "If my wolf emerges, will I... change?"


    Arthures up behind me, and the way his towel is slung low on his hips makes my pulse race with excitement. "Maybe. Most people''s wolves emerge during puberty, so the changes are gradual and less noticeable. But for adults who have a wolf emergeter in life, the changes can be more profound."


    "What kind of changes?"


    "Your eyes might be brighter, even when they''re not glowing. Your hair might change-be thicker, maybe a slightly different shade. Your body might change too, bing stronger, more resilient."


    I bite my lip, studying my reflection. I''ve


    parents, who I take after so much. The ident twenty-six years looking like this, and I''ve only just met


    of my appearance suddenly changing doesn''t fill me with as much joy


    as it should. "But I kind of like the way I look now," I admit


    Arthur wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. "Whatever changes happen, they won''t be bad," he assures me. "It''ll feel right to you, like a good stretch first thing in the morning. Like parts of you that were always meant to be a certain way finally settling into ce."


    "You promise?" I look at his reflection.


    "I promise." He kisses my shoulder, then the connection to it''s worth," he murmurs


    huskily between kisses, "wolf or been."


    I can''t help but smile at that, and turn, swatting at his ches


    "I disagree." He grins and peppers onst kiss across the ti tomorrow, and if


    you''re a good girl, you might just get a su


    "You promise?" I look at his reflection.


    "I promise." He kisses my shoulder, then the connection to my neck, then up toward my jawline. "And for what it''s worth," he murmurs huskily between kisses, "wolf or no wolf, you''re a bombshell, Iris. You always have been."


    I can''t help but smile at that, and turn, swatting at his chest. "ttery will get you nowhere, Mr. President.


    11


    "I disagree." He grins and peppers onst kiss across the tip of my nose. "Now,


    get some rest. Your debut is tomorrow, and if you''re a good girl, you might just get


    a surprise after."

 Chapter 230

    Iris?


    The rm res at 5:30 AM, and 1 groan, pping at my phone to shut it off. Arthur stirs beside me, one arm still draped possessively across my waist.


    "Already?" he mumbles, burying his face in my hair.


    1 yawn as I gently try to pull myself from his grip. "Caleb will be here in an hour."


    Today is the day. My debut as a Willford. The thought makes my stomach clench with a headybination of excitement and terror.


    Once Arthur has finally decided to release me from his arms, I shuffle to the bathroom and ssh cold water on my face. In the mirror, my eyes look the same as always-no sign of the mysterious glow Arthur sawst night. I peer closer, half-expecting to see something, anything, different about myself. But I''m still just


    me.


    By the time I''ve showered and gotten dressed in afortable sweater and a pair of leggings, Caleb is already waiting for me outside. I tug on my jacket-it''s been getting chilliertely-and give Arthur a quick kiss. He''ll being separatelyter, with Miles, since there are still some final preparations at the estate that Caleb wants me involved in.


    But the moment I step outside the building, a sh goes off in my face, followed by another, and another. Suddenly I''m surrounded by people¡ªat least a dozen photographers and reporters shoving microphones in my


    direction.


    "Iris! Over here!"


    "Is it true you''re secretly dating a Willford?"


    "Why have you been spending so much time with Caleb Willford?"


    I freeze, momentarily blinded by all the shes. Where the fuck did they alle from? How did they know-


    "Move!" Caleb''s voice cuts through the chaos as he pushes his way to my side, grabbing my arm. "Leave her alone!"


    This only makes the paparazzi more frenzied.


    "Caleb, what''s your rtionship with the Alpha President''s mate?"


    "How long have you two been seeing each other?"


    "Is it an affair, or is Arthur aware?"


    The usation makes my blood run cold. An affair? With my brother? The very thought is revolting, but these vultures don''t know that. All they see is a woman suddenly spending time with an attractive, wealthy bachelor.


    I open my mouth to respond, but Caleb is already trying to muscle me through the crowd toward his waiting car. Emi puts herself between me and the onught, and Arthur appears from the building behind me, his face thunderous as he takes in the scene.


    "Get away from her!" he snarls, and several of the photographers actually step back, responding instinctively to the Alpha''smand.


    But one persistent woman with a microphone steps closer. Iris, how do you respond to rumors of an affair with Caleb Willford?"


    Caleb tugs me forward, but I dig my heels in. I draw myself up to my full height, shoulders back, chin up, and re at the woman.


    "There is no affair," I say calmly. "Caleb is a friend, and that friendship has nothing to do with my rtionship with Arthur."


    The reporter doesn''t look convinced. "But you''ve been seen together multiple times over the past month. Private meetings, dinners¡ª"


    "As friends do," I interrupt smoothly. "I would never cheat on my mate. Arthur is the love of my life and the father of my child. We''ve been through more together than you could possibly imagine." I look directly into her camera. "Love, trust, and family are the most important things in my world. Any suggestion otherwise is not only false but deeply hurtful."


    The crowd has gone quiet, caught off guard by myposure. Even Caleb and Arthur look surprised. "Furthermore," I continue, "I would appreciate some privacy. If you have questions, you''re wee to submit them through proper channels, and they''ll be addressed at the appropriate moment." I smile, the practiced, pleasant smile that Caleb taught me. "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have a busy day ahead."


    And with that, I walk calmly to Caleb''s car, slide into the passenger seat, and wait for him to get in. The reporters are all staring at me.

 Chapter 231

    Caleb gets in and pulls away from the curb, shaking his head. "That was... impressive."


    "Thanks,¡± I say, my hands trembling slightly in myp now that we''re safely in the car. "I think I kind of cked out for a minute there."


    "Well, whatever you did, it worked." He nces at me with newfound respect. "You''re ready for your debut."


    A little whileter, I''m walking into the suite that my parents have prepared for me at the estate. My rooms here are more like an entire apartment than a guest room; there''s a sitting room will small dining area, armchairs, and a firece, a walk-in closet, a huge bathroom, afld then the actual bedroom. The stylists are already waiting for me and ready to go.


    The next several hours pass in a whirlwind. I''m bathed, scrubbed holsturized, plucked, and polished until my skin practically glows. My hair is washed, dried, and styled into an elegant updo wi loose tendrils framing my face. My makeup is applied with an expert hand-not too heavy, but enough to make my features pop under the bright lights that will be at the ball.


    And then, finally, it''s time for the gown.


    Two assistants carefully remove it from its garment bag, and I gasp. Seeing it in the final fitting was one thing, but now, with my hair and makeup done, it''s even more magnificent.


    The sage green fabric shimmers in the light, theyers of gauzy material creating the illusion of a field of wildflowers growing up from the hem. The bodice is encrusted with tiny crystals that catch the light, and the off-shoulder neckline is both elegant and slightly daring.


    With careful hands, they help me into the gown, making sure not to disturb my hair or makeup. The material is soft and cool, the weight of it substantial but not overwhelming. When they finally zip me up and step back, there''s a collective gasp from everyone in the room.


    "Oh, Iris," my mother breathes, her eyes welling up with tears. "You look absolutely beautiful."


    Alice, who has been here all morning to help me get ready, hands me a tissue. "Don''t you dare cry and ruin your makeup," she warns, even as she dabs at her own eyes.


    I turn to face the full-length mirror, and for a moment, I don''t recognize the woman staring back at me. She looks like a princess from a fairy tale, elegant and regal and wildly beautiful all at once.


    When I was a little girl in the orphanage, I used to dream about moments like this. I would wrap a pillowcase around my waist and pretend it was a ballgown, imagining that someday, someone woulde and im me as their long-lost daughter, and I''d go live in a castle and wear beautiful dresses and dance with a handsome prince.


    I never actually believed it would happen. And yet, here I am.


    Once the final touches are added-a diamond ne that''s apparently been in the Willford family for generations, matching earrings, and a bracelet that my mother fastens around my wrist it''s time.


    My entourage and I make our way through the mansion to the grand banquet hall, where hundreds of guests are already gathered. Through the closed doors, I can hear the murmur of conversation, the clink of sses, the soft music of the string


    quartet.


    This is it. In just a few moments, I''ll step through those doors and into my new life as Iris Willford.


    I think I might puke.


    The attendant nods to us, then opens the doors with a flourish before I even have


    a chance to breathe. The room beyond is a glittering spectacle of lights, flowers, and elegantly dressed people


    Every head turns our way as the attendant''s voice rings out:


    "Announcing... Lady Iris Willford!"

 Chapter 232

    hapter 232


    Tris


    **


    Announcing... Lady Iris Willford!" the attendant calls out. "The long-lost Willford beir has returned!"


    The room goes utterly silent as I step through the doorway. Hundreds of eyes turn to stare at me all at once, and I feel my throat tighten. Fuck. This is even more intense than I imagined.


    My mother gives my ann a reassuring squeeze before stepping away, leaving me alone in the spotlight. The silence stretches on, ufortably long, and all I can hear is the thundering of my own heartbeat in my ears.


    Itrained for this moment, of course. We practiced my entrance over and over and over again until I could do it in my sleep, and yet... I can''t move.


    Just when I think I might actually pass out, Calebes to stand beside me. He gently takes my hand and ces it on his arm. "Breathe," he whispers. "I''m right here, little sister."


    I nod lightly, take a deep breath, and take my first step with him by my side. The crowd begins to murmur, then whisper, then talk openly as I descend the few steps into the ballroom proper.


    "I thought she was the spitting image of Maeve when she was young-"


    can''t believe the Willfords kept this secret-"


    "I wonder what this means for the future..."


    I keep my chin up and my expression pleasant, just like I practiced. Inside, though, I''m a jumble of nerves. All of these people are no doubt waiting for me to mess up again, to embarrass myself and now my entire newfound family-just as I have before.


    "Miss Willford," a smooth voice suddenly calls, and I turn to see a tall, elegant woman approaching. She''s breathtakingly beautiful, with honey-blonde hair cascading down her back and silvery eyes that immediately mark her as a Willford. Her gown is a deep midnight blue that contrasts stunningly with her fair skin


    "Veronica," Caleb greets her warmly. "Perfect timing. Iris, this is our cousin, Veronica. She''s our aunt''s daughter on our mom'' side."


    My eyes widen as I finally ce her. Veronica Matthews-the world-renowned pianist. I''ve seen her on magazine covers, watched her performances online, even attended a few with Brian and Liam.


    She''s a prodigy who began ying at age three and debuted with the Ordan Philharmonic at twelve. She''s a legend.


    "It''s an honor to meet you," I say, extending my hand. "I''m a huge fan of your work."


    Veronica''s perfect eyebrows rise slightly. "Are you? How delightful." She takes my hand and shakes it. "The family resemnce is remarkable. You''re going to cause quite a stir in our little world, Iris."


    "I think I already have," I reply, ncing around at the still-whispering crowd.


    Sheughs, and somehow it''s just as musical as her piano abilities. "Oh, this is nothing. Wait until the press gets hold of the full story." She leans in conspiratorially. "I hear you''ve already had a taste of their attention this morning."


    News travels fast. "A small misunderstanding. Nothing important.


    "Hmm. Well, they''ll find plenty more to specte about now." Her gaze shifts over my shoulder, and her smile tightens almost imperceptibly. "Speaking of spection."


    I turn to see Arthur making his way toward us, looking devastatingly handsome in his formal attire. My heart does a little flip at the sight of him.


    "Arthur," Veronica greets him with a practiced smile, "How lovely to see you again."


    "Veronica," he responds politely. "It''s been a while."


    An awkward silence falls between them, and I get the distinct impression that there''s some kind of history here. Veronica confirms it a momentter.


    "Did you know, Iris, that Arthur and I were once considered a potential match?" She says this lightly, as ifmenting on the weather. "Before Selina, of course. The families thought we would make a suitable pair."


    I did not know this. I nce at Arthur, who looks distinctly ufortable. "Is that So?"


    "Oh yes. In the end, though, my cousin had more immediate political influence than my branch of the Willford family." She sips her champagne delicately. Isn''t it ironic? Arthur chose Selina for her connections, and now he ends up with a Willford


    anyway." Her giggles airily. "You must be pleased, Arthur. You''re still getting the political alliance you wanted, even with Selina in that unfortunatea."

 Chapter 233

    Arthur''s Jaw tightens. "That''s not


    "Excuse me," a new voice interrupts, and we tum to see my father approaching. "Veronica, your mother is looking for you."


    Veronica''s smile never falters. "Of course, Uncle Francis. We''ll continue our chatter, Iris. I have so many family stories to share with you." She glides away, the perfect picture of grace and poise. I feel breathless just watching her.


    And yet, I can''t help but feel a little... off after that. Veronica''s Implication that Arthur is only with me for political connections shouldn''t bother me. After all, he chose me when he thought I was just a human artist with no connections at all. He made our rtionship public, risking his reputation and position.


    That''s why, when a tiny seed of doubt forms, I push it aside. This isn''t the time or the ce, and I''m sure she didn''t mean it like


    that.


    For the next hour, my parents stay close, guiding me through the social minefield. I meet distant rtives, family friends, business associates, political allies-too many names and faces to possibly remember.


    Some react with genuine delight at meeting me. Others are more reserved, clearly calcting what my existence means for their own interests. A few are openly hostile, although they hide it behind stiff smiles and formal greetings.


    Through it all, I maintain myposure, drawing on every lesson ''ve learned over the past few weeks. I smile warmly,ugh at all the right moments, respond to questions with carefully measured answers.


    To my surprise, I find that I''m actually sort of good at this-or at least, I''m a quick learner.


    Throughout the night, I catch glimpses of Arthur throughout the room. He''s in his element, moving smoothly through the crowd, every inch the Alpha President. asionally our eyes meet across the room, and he gives me a small, private smile that makes my heart race.


    Finally, after what feels like an eternity of socializing, my father steps into the center of the room and raises his hand. The crowd falls silent immediately.


    "Friends, family, honored guests," he begins, his voice carrying effortlessly through the vast space even with no microphone. Thank you all for joining us on this momentous asion. As many of you know, our family has been blessed with a miracle- the return of our beloved daughter, Iris, who had been swapped at birth."


    I step forward to stand beside him, just as we practiced.


    "For twenty-six years, we had no idea our daughter had been taken from us," my father continues. "Today marks Iris''s official debut as a Willford--a reiming of her birthright and her rightful ce in our family and our society."


    Polite apuse ripples through the crowd. My mother raises


    smile.


    her champagne toward me and shoots me a wink, which makes me


    "As is tradition," my father says, gesturing to Arthur, "we begin the celebration with


    a dance between Iris and her illustrious mate. Alpha President Arthur, if you would do us the honor?"


    Arthur steps forward, bowing formally to my father before turning to me. He extends his hand, and I ce mine in it, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against mine.


    As we take our ces, the orchestra begins to y the opening notes of the waltz we''ve been practicing. Arthur draws me into the proper position, one hand on my waist, the other sping mine. I ce my free hand on his shoulder, remembering all of our instructions.


    Chin up. Shoulders back. Frame strong but not stiff.


    Eyes on my mate, and let everything else fall away.


    "Ready?" Arthur asks softly.


    I take a deep breath and nod. "Ready."


    And as the music swells, we begin to dance.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 234

    Tris


    The stepse as naturally as breathing now after all those hours of practice, so long as I keep my eyes fixed on Arthur. And how could I not, when he''s smiling down at me, that dami curl across his forehead, those forest green eyes shining in the light of the chandeliers?


    As we move, the crowd around us falls away. Suddenly, it''s just me and Arthur, moving as one across the gleaming ballroom


    floor.


    We execute a perfect turn, and I hear appreciative murmurs from the crowd. My wildflower gown swirls around my legs, and the crowd gasps softly at the sight of theyers of tulle swaying like a field of flowers on a sunny day.


    I still can''t believe that this is actually happening. I''m dancing at a ball, in a gown worth more than my life savings, with hundreds of the most powerful people in the country watching. Little orphan Iris would be in heaven right now.


    The dance calls for me to turn away from Arthur at this point, performing a solo twirl before returning to his arms. I''ve done it a hundred times or more in our lessons, and I execute the move wlessly, extending my arm as I spin.


    But as Iplete the turn, my foot slides unexpectedly. The floor beneath me is suddenly slick, as if someone spilled oil or grease in exactly the spot where I need to pivot. My ankle twists painfully as I try to catch myself, and before I can regain my bnce, I''m falling.


    Time seems to slow down. I see the horror on my mother''s face, the barely- concealed smirks on several others. My hand reaches out instinctively to break my fall, and I manage to catch myself before Ipletely face-nt in front of everyone.


    It''s not graceful, but it''s not a total disaster either.


    Arthur is at my side in an instant, helping me to my feet with a concerned look. My ankle throbs painfully, but I force a smile and nod slightly, letting him know I can continue.


    "Are you sure?" he whispers.


    I nod again, even though I''m really not okay. My ankle feels like it''s on fire- definitely twisted. But I can''t fail now. Arthur can definitely sense my pain, but he doesn''t argue as I smile and move back into position.


    The music never stopped, and we slip back into the dance as if the stumble was nned all along. I grit my teeth against the pain, forcing my face to remain serene as weplete the final turns of the waltz. Arthur subtly takes more of my weight, supporting me through the steps.


    As the final notes fade, he dips me low, both a little breathless and flushed. The crowd erupts into apuse, seemingly impressed by our recovery. We hold the pose for a moment before Arthur helps me straighten, his hand discreetly supporting my waist.


    The moment we''re out of the spotlight, Arthur''s smile drops.


    "You''re hurt," he says, his eyes flicking down to my ankle.


    "I''m fine," I lie, although I can''t help but put more weight on my good foot.


    Arthur''s not buying it. "Come with me."


    He leads me out of the ballroom and down a quiet hallway to a small sitting room. Once inside, he helps me to afortable chair and kneels in front of me.


    "Let me see," he says, carefully slipping off my shoe. His touch is gentle, but I still hiss in pain as he examines my ankle. It''s already starting to swell. "It''s definitely sprained. What happened out there?"


    "The floor was slippery," I say, grimacing as he rotates my ankle slightly. "Like someone put grease or something right where I needed to turn."


    Arthur blinks up at me, and I stare back. Normally, I would think anyone is being paranoid if they actually believe someone greased a fucking dance floor,


    But the longer I live in this world, the more Ie to understand that people do those kinds of things all of the time. People are cruel and vindictive, and if any of Selina''s supporters are in attendance tonight, I wouldn''t put it past them to try and sabotage my debut dance.


    Once he realizes I''m beingpletely serious, his eyes darken. "I have Ezra look into it. For now, you need ice." He stands and goes to the door, speaking quietly to someone outside. A minuteter, a staff member arrives with an ice pack, a cloth, and a bottle of mild painkillers.


    Arthur returns to kneel in front of me, wrapping the ice pack around my ankle while I take the painkillers with some water. This should help with the swelling. Elevate it for a little while. You really should stay off it for the rest of the night, though."


    "I can''t," I protest. "It''s my debut. I have to go back out there."


    "Iris-"


    31


    "No, Arthur, I''m not hiding in here just because someone tried to embarrass me.


    I''ve been through way worse than a twisted ankle."

 Chapter 235

    The sighs. At least rest it for a few minutes?"


    I nod and ease back in the chair. The ice feels good against my throbbing ankle.


    There''s a sharp knock at the door, and Ezra pokes his head in. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but there''s an urgent matter that requires your attention."


    Arthur frowns. "Can it wait?"


    Ezra''s expression is grave. "I''m afraid not, sir. Security issue."


    Arthur looks torn, ncing between me and Ezra. I wave him off. o. I''ll be fine. I''ll just rest for a few minutes and then head back to the party."


    "You''re sure?"


    "I''m sure. Go y Alpha President." I offer a smirk.


    He leans down to kiss me quickly. "I''ll be back as soon as I can.".


    And then he''s gone, following Ezra out the door,


    I give myself ten minutes with the ice before deciding that I''ve hidden away long enough. Carefully, I slip my shoe back on and stand, testing my weight. It hurts a little, but it''s bearable, and the painkillers haven''t even kicked in yet. I just need to be careful not to twist it again.


    The hallway outside is empty, and I make my way slowly back toward the ballroom, admiring the artwork as I meander by. Just as I step through the main doors, a woman steps into my path. She''s vaguely familiar-one of the many people I was introduced to earlier, although I can''t recall her name.


    "What a performance," she says with a sharine smile. "Quite the dramatic fall. Some might say the dance symbolizes your entire rise to prominence-shy but ultimately unstable."


    I blink, caught off guard by the direct attack. "Excuse me?"


    "Oh, don''t y innocent. You may have fooled everyone else with your little lost heir story, but some of us know better." She steps closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. ¡°Selina was-is-twice the woman you''ll ever be. You think you can just waltz in and take her ce? Please."


    So she''s one of Selina''s friends. Probably the one who greased the floor, judging by the satisfaction in her eyes when she mentioned my fall.


    "I didn''t take anyone''s ce," I reply. "And I certainly didn''t ask for any of this."


    She scoffs. "Right. Just like you didn''t ask to be the Alpha President''s mate? Just happened to fall into that too, did you?"


    I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, another voice cuts in


    "Margaret, darling, there you are." Veronica glides up beside me, luking her arm through mine as if we''ve been friends for years. "I see you''ve met my cousin Iris." Margaret''s smile falters. ¡°Veronica. Yes, we were just getting acquainted."


    "How lovely," Veronica says, narrowing her eyes. "Although I must say, Margaret, your husband was looking for you rather desperately. Something about the credit card you maxed out without his knowledge?" She tilts her head slightly. "You should probably look for him. He''s in quite the state right now."


    Margaret''s eyes widen, and she hurries away without another word.


    As she leaves, Veronica nces at me. "Word of advice, cousin? Never engage directly with vipers like Margaret. They''re not worth your time or energy."


    "Was she the one who


    Atmost certainly," Veronica confirms as she leads me further into the ballroom. "Slie was Selina''s sorority sister. She''s been making noise about you since rumors of your existence first surfaced. There are others you should be wary of as well."


    Quietly, Veronica points out various guests-people who were close to Selina, who resent my sudden appearance, who might try to undermine me in ways both subtle and overt. Once she''s finished-and there are more people than I''d hoped for-she turns to me with a gentle smile.


    "The best thing you can do is continue to carry yourself with grace and try not to show how their actions shake you," Veronica says. "In this world, appearing weak is often more dangerous than actually being weak."


    Standing next to Veronica, with her perfect poise and effortless grace, I can''t help but feel weak. She basically had toe to my rescue. But I manage a smile and thank her for her help, and with that, she glides away as if she''s not even walking, but rather levitating slightly from the floor.


    I look around for a moment, and then spot Arthur across the room, deep in conversation with Ezra. Curious, I make my way toward them. As I get closer, I can hear snippets of their conversation.


    "-confirmed it was her? You''re absolutely certain?" Arthur is saying.


    "Yes, sir," Ezra replies.


    "Fuck," Arthur mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of all the nights for her to..."


    "Sir,¡± Ezra interrupts, his eyes suddenly fixed on something over Arthur''s shoulder. "She''s here."


    Arthur spins around, and I follow his gaze to the main entrance of the ballroom.


    My stomach drops as the crowd parts to reveal the veryst face I expected to see tonight.


    Selina.

 Chapter 236

    Iris


    The entire ballroom falls silent as Selina strides in looking like she wasn''t just in aa yesterday. She''s fully decked out to the


    nines in a stunning silver ball gown, her hair and makeup utterly perfect.


    But her face is thunderous, cold gray eyes narrowed and fixed directly on me.


    Even after months in aa, it seems her


    shrewdness has only intensified.


    People step out of her way as she cuts through the crowd without hesitating. Some look rmed, but most just look excited by the


    drama unfolding. Margaret and the other Selina supporters I''d been warned about are practically buzzing.


    Arthur moves to stand in front of me, but I ce a hand on his arm, recalling Veronica''s words. I won''t appear weak. Especially


    not tonight, on one of the most important nights of my life.


    Selina stops a few feet away, her eyes raking over me from head to toe. She takes in the wildflower gown, the expensive jewelry,


    my ce at the center of a party clearly thrown in my honor.


    "So," she says, lifting her chin. "I see you''ve been ying dress-up while I''ve been gone."


    Whispers ripple through the crowd. My mother makes a small sound of distress, and my father ces a hand on her shoulder.


    I take a deep breath and step forward, ignoring the throb in my ankle. "Selina. I''m d to see you''re feeling better."


    Her eyes narrow further. "Don''t pretend you care about my well-being. You''ve been busy, haven''t you? Stealing my fiance,


    taking my ce in my family, wearing my mother''s jewelry."


    My cheeks burn, but I keep my expression neutral. Getting defensive will only make me look guilty, and I''ve done nothing wrong.


    "I understand why you''re upset," I say calmly. "This must be confusing and overwhelming for you."


    "Overwhelming?" she scoffs. "Try infuriating. You manipted your way into my family, convinced them of some ridiculous


    baby-swap story-"


    "It''s not a story, Selina," my father interjects firmly. "DNA tests have confirmed it."


    Selina''s eyes sh to him, hurt flickering across her face before hardening again. "And you just epted it? Twenty-six years of being your daughter, and you toss me aside for -for her?"


    "No one is tossing you aside, honey," my mother says gently. "You''re still our daughter in every way that matters."


    Selina ignores this, turning back to me. "And you. What''s your endgame here? Money? Status? Revenge?"


    I straighten my shoulders, suddenly tired of this whole charade. "Would you like something to eat?" I ask, surpris


    including myself. "There''s an amazing selection of food over there, and I imagine hospital meals aren''t particul appetizing. Or perhaps a drink? You must be exhausted after everything you''ve been through."


    Selina blinks, clearly caught off guard by my change of subject. "What?"


    +40 Bonus


    "Food. Drink. You know, the normal things one might want at a party they just crashed." I keep my voice light, conversational, as


    if we''re just two acquaintances chatting at a-social event. "This is a celebration,


    after all, and you''re wee to join us."


    The crowd is watching with rapt attention, waiting for the explosion. I catch Veronica''s gaze from across the room, and there''s a


    sparkle in her eye.


    "I don''t want to rece you, Selina," I go on. "That was never my intention. I can''t help that I''m the biological child of the


    Willfords-that''s just a fact. But that doesn''t make you any less their daughter, and honestly, I hope we can be sisters."


    Selina stares at me, her mouth slightly open. Whatever reaction she was expecting, it clearly wasn''t this.


    "Sisters?" she repeats, her nose wrinkling. "You think you could possibly be my sister?"


    "Why not? We may have been swapped at birth, but you were still raised as part


    of the family. We''re both their daughters." I offer


    her a small smile. "And I''ve always wanted a sibling."


    For a moment, she looks uncertain. Then she nces around, seeming to


    remember that we have an audience. Her expression


    hardens again.


    "I don''t need your pity."


    I nod. "Good, because I''m not offering any. Just food, drink, and the possibility


    that we can one day put aside our... troubled


    pasts." I try not to think about the fact that she fucking tried to kill me. "We don''t have to be enemies forever."


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 Chapter 237

    Arthur steps up beside me, his hand settling-on the small of my back. "Selina, I''m d to see you''re recovered. If you''d like, we


    can speak privatelyter."


    She looks at him, then at me, then back to him. Somethingplex shes across her face-anger, hurt, resignation, all in rapid


    session.


    Without a word, she turns and walks away, making a beeline for the bar. The


    silence breaks as the crowd begins to talk loudly, all


    discussing the juicy drama that just unfolded.


    I hardly even hear their words, though; my eyes are fixed not on Selina but rather on Veronica, who is standing across the way,


    that gleam still in her eye. She subtly lifts her champagne flute toward me in a silent toast, smirking, then takes a sip.


    I''m not sure what to make of anything that just happened. In fact, I''m pretty sure I just cked out and that entire interaction


    was run by some kind of invisible puppeteer.


    My fatheres over and ps his hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. "That was remarkably handled, Iris."


    "Oh. Uh... Thanks," I say, feeling suddenly exhausted. I lean against Arthur, and he wraps his arm around me, supporting me. "I


    just... didn''t see the point in escting things."


    "A wisdom that many in this roomck," he says with a slight smile. "Come, you''ve been on that ankle long enough. Sit down


    and enjoy the rest of your evening."


    The remainder of the party passes quickly and, surprisingly, without a hitch. Selina keeps her distance, although I catch her


    watching me asionally with an unreadable expression. The drama of her arrival seems to have overshadowed my earlier fall,


    which I count as a small victory.


    Later, after the majority of the guests have left, I''ve retired to my parents'' sitting room to rest my ankle. My parents are off


    somewhere with Selina, likely discussing... well, everything. Arthur is with Ezra- Selina refused to speak to him.


    I''m blissfully alone, and all I want to do is pull out my phone and scroll to pass the time.


    My eyes widen as I see that my debut¡ªand Selina''s dramatic entrance is already trending across every major news outlet and


    social media tform.


    "WILLFORD HEIR DEBUTS AMID DRAMA"


    "SELINA VS. IRIS: THE SHOWDOWN"


    "GRACE UNDER PRESSURE: HOW IRIS WILLFORD DEFUSED A BOMB"


    There are photos of me in my gown, of my dance with Arthur, even of my confrontation with Selina. Themente overwhelmingly positive toward me, praising my grace and maturity in handling what could have been an explos situation.


    Many who had been on the fence about me seem to have swung firmly into my camp after tonight.


    #TeamIris is even trending.


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    "Not tonight," Arthur says suddenly, appearing over my shoulder out of seemingly nowhere and plucking the phone from my


    hands.


    "Hey!" I protest. "I was reading that."


    "Exactly. And you''ll drive yourself crazy if you keep reading." He pockets my


    phone. "No news for the next week, actually."


    I raise an eyebrow. "The next week? And who decided that?"


    "I did. Just now." He sits beside me and loops his arm around my shoulders. "Because we''re going to be otherwise upied."


    "Are we?"


    "Mmm-hmm." He grins almost impishly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out three ne tickets. "How does a vacation sound? Just you, me, and Miles."


    My eyes widen as I look at the tickets. One for me, one for Arthur, and one for Miles. "Where are we going?" I ask. I reach for them, but Arthur''s grin widens, and he pulls them out of the way.


    "Ah ah ah," he chides, waggling his finger in my face. "You can find out the destination once we arrive."


    Before I can protest, he tucks the tickets away again and stands, then takes both of my hands and helps me to my feet. "Now, we should get you home and out of


    this dress," he says. "The ne leaves first thing in the morning."

 Chapter 238

    Iris


    "Wee to Whispering Pines!" the cheerful pilot announces as our small private ne touches down on what can barely even be called a runway. It''s more like a cleared strip ofnd in the middle of nowhere.


    My eyes widen as I look out the window and recognize the familiarndscape of rolling hills and dense forest. No fucking way.


    "Arthur..." I start, turning to face him. He''s grinning like a kid in a candy shop.


    "Surprise," he says simply.


    I can''t believe it. Whispering Pines-our ce. The tiny, quaint town nestled in the wild northern territories-where there are no


    countries or cities, but rather individual packnds, just like the old days-that Arthur and I used to escape to.


    It''s the ce where we fell deeper in love with each passing visit, far from the pressures of Ordan society. Where we kissed under


    the stars and where I painted next to waterfalls and where we were happy and free.


    I never thought I would see this ce again after our breakup.


    As we disembark the ne, Miles jumps up and down with excitement, holding both of our hands and swinging between us.


    "Where are we? What are we gonna do? Are there animals?"


    Arthurughs. "Patience, buddy. You''ll see everything soon enough."


    The drive through the countryside is familiar and yet new. The same winding roads through dense pine forests, the same


    breathtaking views of distant mountains, but now seen through the eyes of a mother watching her son experience it all for the


    first time.


    "Look, Mommy!" Miles cries, pointing out the window at a pair of deer bounding through the trees. "Animals!"


    "Yes, little wolf," I say, smiling at his excitement. "There are lots of animals here."


    After about twenty minutes, our driver turns onto a gravel road I don''t recognize, leading up to a sprawling ranch house


    surrounded by fenced pastures and outbuildings.


    "What''s this?" I ask Arthur as we pull up to the main house. "We usually stay at the inn in town."


    "I wanted something a bit more private this time, and for all of our future visits, which there will be many," he exins as w


    climb out of the truck. "So I bought you a ranch."


    "Bought?" I squeak. My jaw drops. "You bought an entire ranch?"


    He shrugs as if it''s nothing. "The old owner passed and the ce went up for cheap. Came with all the animals and erything." He nces at me, and the meaningful look in his eyes almost makes me burst into tears. "We''ll being back


    intend to have lots of family vacations." plenty, Iris. I


    +40 Bonus


    I feel like I''m going to copse. Arthur bought us a ranch. It''s not that I''m worried about money-Goddess knows he has always had more than enough, and with ourbined fortunes, we could probably buy every ranch in the entire world at this point-but


    it''s just... hard to wrap my head around.


    Suddenly, Miles spots a small herd of goats in a nearby pen and lets out a shriek of delight, which pulls me out of my reverie. Before we can stop him, he''s bolting toward the pen, his little legs pumping as fast as they can go.


    "Miles, wait!" I call, hurrying after him. Arthur''s boomingughter follows me all the way across thewn.


    A little whileter, once Miles has had his fill of baby goats, we head inside to get settled. The ranch house is small and rustic but luxurious nheless, with exposed wooden beams, a massive stone firece, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the property. It''s nothing like the cozy little rooms at the inn Arthur and I used to stay in, but it has the same warm, inviting feel.


    "I can''t believe this is ours," I murmur, turning to Arthur as Miles excitedly explores every nook and cranny. "Arthur, this is...


    incredible."


    Arthur grins and gives me a peck on the tip of my nose. "I hope you like it."


    "Like it?" I breathe. "I love it. But... You know you didn''t have to do this, right?"


    He simply shrugs. "I know you don''t expect extravagant gifts. But this isn''t just for you or me. It''s for Miles."


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    +40 Bonus


    I can''t argue with that. My heart soars as I picture summers spent here as a family; all of the memories, the joy andughter...


    Maybe more children will fill these walls, too. Although the thought of having more kids with Arthur makes me blush.


    After we unpack, a ranch hand offers to take us on a tour of the farm. Miles is beside himself with joy as we visit the chicken coop,


    the gardens, and the barn where a litter of kittens has recently been born.


    Watching my son''s face light up with each new discovery, I feel a lump form in my throat. This is what I used to dream about-


    bringing our children to this special ce, sharing our love of nature and simplicity with them.


    Back before everything fell apart, before Selina, before... everything.


    And now, against all odds, that dream is finallying true.


    "You okay?" Arthur asks quietly, noticing me discreetly wipe away a tear as Miles giggles at a chicken pecking near his feet.


    I nod, unable to find the words to express what I''m feeling. Arthur seems to


    understand anyway. He wraps an arm around my


    waist and pulls me against his side, pressing a kiss to my temple.


    "Why here?" I ask softly.


    Arthur is quiet for a moment before he responds, "You''ve been working so hardtely, and I thought... Maybe we both needed a


    reminder of where we started. Before all of this."


    I tilt my head.


    "I loved you before I knew you were a Willford," he says simply. "Before I knew


    you might be a werewolf. And I wanted to remind you of that, just in case you forgot." He grins. "Besides, Miles is still little, and I wanted to have our first family vacation before


    he has to go off to school."


    My throat tightens at the thought of Miles starting kindergarten soon. It''s a bittersweet thought, but I push it away for now, just wanting to focus on our vacation. I lean up to kiss Arthur and murmur against his lips, "Thank you for doing this."


    He returns the kiss, hands gently tugging me closer by the waist. When we pull back, I''m a little breathless, not necessarily from the kiss, but from how fast my heart is pumping with excitement. "Now," he says, "are you ready for our first official family


    activity?"


    "Depends. What is it?"


    "Follow me and find out."


    The ranch hand leads us to the stables, and I stop short when I see two saddled horses standing in the yard. I look up rthur in shock. He knows damn well I''ve never ridden a horse in my entire life.


    "Arthur..."


    +40 Bonus


    "It''s just going to be a gentle trail ride," Arthur assures me. "Perfect for beginners."


    I gulp as the ranch hand leads us into the stable, where I can get a better view of the horses. One is a calm-looking chestnut with a


    white ze down its nose. The other is bigger with a dappled gray coat.


    "This here''s Buttercup," the ranch hand says, patting the chestnut''s neck. "She''s


    as gentle as theye. Perfect for your first time, ma''am."


    I eye the horse warily. Even the "gentle? one looks enormous up close.


    "And this is Thunder," the ranch hand continues, moving to the dappled gray


    horse. "He''s one of our more experienced horses,


    good with kids. The President and your son will ride him together."


    I watch as the ranch hand exins to Miles how to approach the horse slowly and let it smell his hand. My son shows no fear


    whatsoever as he follows the instructions, giggling when Thunder''s velvety nose tickles his palm.


    Arthur lifts Miles up to stroke the horse''s neck, and my heart does a little flip at the sight of them together.


    But then I turn back to Buttercup, who stands at least a foot taller than me, with powerful muscles shifting beneath her shiny coat. She turns her massive head


    toward me and snorts, stamping her hoof, and I feel my legs turn to jelly.


    There is no way in hell I''m getting on that beast.


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 Chapter 240

    Iris


    "You want me to ride... that?"


    I stare up at Buttercup, who suddenly seems to be the size of a small building. The chestnut mare looks down at me with what I swear is amusement in her big brown eyes.


    "Oh,e on," Arthurughs, still holding Miles. "She''s the gentlest horse on the ranch."


    "I don''t care if she''s the gentlest horse in the universe," I say, backing away slowly. "She''s enormous. And she just looked at me


    like I was dinner."


    The ranch hand chuckles. "Most first-timers get nervous, ma''am. But I promise you, Buttercup here is practically a pony, and she would never hurt a fly."


    A pony the size of a truck, maybe. I shake my head firmly. "No, I think I''ll just watch you two go. I can take pictures from the


    ground."


    "But Mommy, you have toe!" Miles whines. "Come oooon!"


    Arthur sets Miles down beside Thunder and approaches me with that damn determined look in his eyes. "Iris," he says softly.


    "Trust me?"


    Before I can answer, he''s scooping me up like I weigh nothing. I let out a yelp that''s embarrassingly close to a shriek as he carries


    me over to Buttercup.


    "Arthur! Put me down right now!" I cry out as I hammer my fists against his back.


    "I''m about to," he says, grinning as he hoists me up and deposits me in the saddle.


    I grab onto the saddle horn for dear life, my knuckles turning white with the effort.


    The ground suddenly seems miles below me,


    and the horse shifts beneath me, pawing the stable floor.


    "Oh, Goddess," I whisper. "I''m going to die. I''m actually going to die."


    Miles is doubled over withughter at the sight of me frozen in terror on the


    horse''s back, which doesn''t help my dignity one bi


    "You''re not going to die," Arthur assures me as he adjusts my stirrups. "Just rx. Buttercup knows what she''s doing, ever


    you don''t."


    "That''s not reassuring!" I hiss, still clinging to the saddle horn.


    The ranch hand adjusts my posture, showing me how to hold the reins and where to put my feet. "Just sit up strai


    hips, and follow her movements," he instructs. "It''s like dancing-you''ve got to move with your partner."


    ,rx your


    Dancing. Right. Except my dance partner is a half-ton animal with a mind of its


    own.


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    Arthur mounts Thunder with impressive ease, like he''s done this a million times before, then the ranch hand lifts Miles up to sit


    in front of him. Our son looks absolutely tiny on the big horse, and every


    mothering instinct in me is telling me that he''s in grave


    danger, but his face is lit up with excitement as Arthur''s arms encircle him to hold the reins.


    "Ready?" the ranch hand asks, mounting his own horse.


    "No," I mutter.


    "Yes!" Miles cheers.


    And with that, we''re off. The ranch hand leads the way down a well-worn trail into the forest, followed by Arthur and Miles on


    Thunder. I''m still rigid in the saddle, refusing to move. But Buttercup doesn''t appear to need my direction, and simply begins to


    "Oh-Oh, she''s moving!" I cry out.


    The ranch hand chuckles over his shoulder. "That is typically the point, yes."


    I feel like I''m going to vomit. But after about fifteen minutes, I actually do start to rx-just a fraction. Buttercup isn''t trying to


    buck me off or bolt. In fact, she''s plodding along steadily, seemingly unbothered by my very presence.


    Slowly, very slowly, I loosen my death grip on the saddle horn and try to follow the ranch hand''s advice, moving with the horse


    rather than against her.


    To my surprise, it actually helps. The ride bes smoother, and Buttercup snorts as if with appreciation. I''m still not


    Up ahead, Miles is chattering away to Arthur, pointing at everything he sees-a


    squirrel darting up a tree, a colorful bird taking


    flight, an interesting rock formation. Arthur listens with endless patience, answering each question and sharing Miles'' delight in


    the smallest discoveries.


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 Chapter 241

    +40 Bonus


    The sight of them together makes my heart swell, and I momentarily forget about my fear. This is what I always wanted-to see


    Arthur being a father to our son. To have these moments together as a family, making memories that Miles will carry with him


    forever.


    I thought we would never have this after the breakup. I thought Miles would never


    get to experience a rtionship with his


    father.


    And now... it''s happening.


    "You''re smiling," Arthur calls back to me. "Feeling better?"


    I blush as I realize he''s right. Somewhere along the way, my grimace has transformed into a serene smile.


    The trail winds deeper into the forest, following the curve of a small stream. The afternoon sun filters through the pine branches, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air is fresh and clean, and I take a deep inhale, which calms me further.


    "Look there," the ranch hand suddenly says, drawing his horse to a stop and pointing to a rocky outcrop ahead.


    My eyes widen as Ie to a stop beside them. A gray wolf stands on the distant ridge, silhouetted against the clear blue sky.


    Even from this distance, I can see its thick fur ruffling in the breeze.


    It''s looking right at us.


    "It''s a she-wolf," Arthur says quietly.


    The ranch hand nods in agreement. "He''s right. That''s definitely a female. Probably has a den with pups nearby." He looks at Miles. "You''re lucky, little man. Not many people get to see a wild wolf up close like this."


    Miles is awestruck, his eyes wide as he takes in the majestic creature. "Is she like you and Daddy and me?" he asks, looking back


    at me. "A werewolf?"


    "Not exactly," Arthur answers for me. "Wild wolves are our ancient cousins. Some believe they''re wiser than werewolves because they chose to remain pure and wild."


    "What do you mean?" Miles asks.


    Arthur thinks for a moment. "Well, ording to werewolf legends, a long time ago, wolves and humans made a deal. Some wolves chose to share their spirits with humans, creating the first werewolves. But others chose to stay as they were-fro d


    wild."


    "Those who refused the merge retained their pure connection to nature," the ranch hand adds. "That''s why many rewolves still respect wild wolves as sacred creatures. It''s also why some believe there are still humans in the world; not en gh wolves to


    go around."


    I stare at the she-wolf as they chat, utterly rapt. The idea that somewhere inside


    of me might be a wolf spirit mr to but


    +40 Bonus


    different from this wild creature, is still hard to grasp.


    The she-wolf turns her head, and suddenly, her golden eyes meet mine. A jolt runs through me, like static electricity. There''s an intelligence in those eyes, a depth that seems to look right through me.


    Time seems to slow as we regard each other across the distance. I feel a strange sense of recognition, a connection I can''t exin. The wind ruffles her fur, blowing a strand of my own hair into my face at the same time.


    She''s the most beautiful creature I''ve ever seen in my entire life. Nothing canpare.


    I''m not even sure if I want to paint this; as if painting her might strip her of her freedom, trap her somehow in a canvas, suck her into a world that''s not her own.


    The she-wolf holds my gaze for a heartbeat longer, and I swear she tilts her head in recognition.


    Then, she turns and disappears into the forest. I stare at the spot where she stood just a moment ago, and I can''t help but feel a profound sense of peace mingled with... loss. Like I''ve just witnessed something for thest time.


    I don''t even notice that the others have continued their ride until Buttercup snorts softly and follows them.

 Chapter 242

    Iris


    By the time we return to the ranch house, my legs feel like jelly. I never realized horseback riding would use so many muscles that I didn''t even know I had. Arthur and Miles, of course, seempletely unaffected, which is annoying but also very unsurprising.


    "Did you see how fast Thunder went, Mommy?" Miles chatters as Arthur helps him down from the horse. "We were flying!"


    "You most certainly were not flying," I reply, grimacing slightly as I slide off of Buttercup''s back with the ranch hand''s


    assistance. My thighs scream in protest as my feet make contact with the floor. "And I''m very d about that."


    The ranch hand chuckles. "You did great for your first time," he says while he begins loosening the girth on his horse''s saddle. The horse lets out a huff of relief. "Most beginners don''t make it through a two-hour trail ride."


    "I''m pretty sure I only made it because I was too scared to fall off," I mutter, but I''m secretly a little proud of myself. After the


    initial terror wore off, I actually enjoyed parts of the ride-especially seeing that magnificent wolf.


    The memory of her golden eyes meeting mine still sends a shiver down my spine. I''m still debating painting her, but... I''m not


    sure yet. Maybe a sketch just for me would be okay.


    Once we''ve thanked the ranch hand and seen the horses safely returned to the stables, Arthur announces he''s going to fire up the


    grill for dinner.


    "How does steak sound?" he asks, already rolling up his sleeves.


    Miles jumps up and down. "With french fries?"


    "With whatever you want, buddy," Arthur says, ruffling his hair.


    I settle into one of thefortable rocking chairs on the back porch, a ss of iced tea in hand, and watch as Miles runs wild


    across the expansivewn. I''ll never understand his boundless energy, but it''s nice to see him have some space to really run


    without the worry of passing cars.


    Arthur tends to the grill on the stone patio, asionally ncing up to check on Miles. The sight of him with his sleeves pushed


    up, a white apron on that says "Kiss the Chef", and his hair tousled by the breeze makes my heart do funny little flips in my chest


    I can imagine countless vacations just like this one: Miles growing taller each year, learning to ride his own horse, exploring mountains, swimming in theke we passed earlier. Arthur teaching him to fish, to build a campfire, to identify the


    constetions in the clear northern sky.


    Me, finally finding the courage to tackle Buttercup solo, maybe even enjoying it someday.


    And that wolf... does she have her own pups? Will we get to see them grow up? That would be magnificent.


    Dinner is a lively affair, with Miles recounting every detail of our trail ride as if Arthur and I hadn''t been there rselves. The steaks are perfect-Arthur really does cook the best meat-and even the simple sd and fries I threw toger taste better in the


    fresh mountain air.


    +40 Bonus


    After we eat, Arthur builds a small fire in the firepit, and we roast marshmallows as the sun sets behind the mountains. Miles gets sticky melted sugar all over his face, hands, and somehow even in his hair, which warrants an emergency bath before bedtime.


    By the time we tuck him in, he''s practically asleep already, worn out from the day''s adventures. I brush the hair off his forehead and nt a kiss there, marveling as I always do at how much he looks like his father when he sleeps.


    Arthur and I tiptoe out, leaving his door cracked just enough that we''ll hear if he wakes up in the middle of the night.


    "Want to stargaze?" Arthur asks softly.


    I nod, and we make our way back outside. The night has grown chilly, so Arthur grabs a nket from the living room. We settle onto the porch swing, the nket wrapped around our shoulders, my head resting against him as we gaze up at the star-strewn sky.


    Without the light pollution of the city, the stars are breathtaking-countless glittering points of light against an inky ck darkness. I spot Orion, the Big


    Dipper, and a few other constetions I remember from our previous trips here.


    SURPERISE GIFT: 3850 bonus free for you,activity time is limited!

 Chapter 243

    We rock infortable silence for a while, listening to the chorus of crickets and the asional distant howl of a wolf. Once


    again, my mind drifts back to the she-wolf we saw earlier.


    "Arthur?" I say, breaking the silence.


    "Hmm?"


    "Do you think... Do you think my wolf will ever emerge? Or is it possible that I''ll be one of those wolfless people?"


    It''s umon, but notpletely unheard of; there are people who possess werewolf genes but never have a wolf. No one''s


    really sure why it happens-some im that their wolf''s spirit abandoned them, that it''s some kind of omen or something to be


    ashamed of-but it does asionally happen.


    He nces at me. "Where''s thising from?"


    I shrug. "Just curious. I mean, if my wolf hasn''t shown itself so far..."


    Truthfully, it''s a fear I''ve been carrying silently since discovering my heritage. My parents are both powerful werewolves. Caleb


    can shift with ease, or at least so I''ve heard. Even Miles already shows signs of having a wolf, like when he was able to recognize


    Arthur as his father right away and having a proclivity for eating meat, despite being so young.


    But I''ve never even felt an inkling of a wolf inside of me. It''s why no one ever thought I was anything but human for so long.


    Arthur turns fully to look at me. "First of all," he says, "there''s no doubt you''re a werewolf. The DNA tests confirmed it, and I''ve


    seen your eyes glow."


    "That was one time, and you said it was just for a second. It could have been a trick of the light-"


    "I know what I saw, Iris," Arthur insists. He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns my head to make me look at him. His eyes are soft, but shimmering like the stars overhead. "It was beautiful."


    I duck my head, oddly embarrassed. "But what if glowing eyes is all I ever manage? What if I never shift?"


    "Then you never shift," he says simply. "It doesn''t change who you are, Iris. It doesn''t make you any less of a Willford, or any


    less of my mate."


    "But wouldn''t you be disappointed? To have a mate who can''t shift?"


    Arthur sighs softly. "Listen to me. I fell in love with you when I thought you were


    fully human, remember? When I beli d we could never share that part of my life. It didn''t matter then, and it doesn''t matter now."


    "But-"


    "I need you to know that even if your wolf never fully emerges, it won''t change how I see you or how I feel abo you. Not one


    bit."


    In this moment, under the vast canopy of stars with Arthur''s eyes fixed unwaveringly on me, I feel a surge of emotion so


    powerful it nearly takes my breath away. For the first time since we reconciled, I feel truly,pletely safe in us.


    Safe enough to finally say the words I''ve been holding back.


    "I love you, Arthur," I say softly. "I never stopped, not really. Even when I tried to hate you, I loved you."


    +40 Bonus


    Arthur goes perfectly still beside me. This is the first time I''ve said this since the breakup. He''s said it before, but... I didn''t have


    the strength or the confidence to say it back. I feared that if I did, if I said the words out loud, it would open me up to more


    heartbreak. That it would be too vulnerable.


    "Say it again," he whispers.


    "I love you," I repeat with a quiet giggle.


    A smile spreads across his face, so radiant it could outshine the stars above us. Without warning, he stands, pulling me to my feet


    with him.


    And then, he scoops me into his arms. The nket falls forgotten to the porch


    floor. He carries me across the porch, through the


    front door, and down the hallway toward our bedroom.


    "I love you too, Iris. And I''m going to show you just how much I do."


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 Chapter 244

    Iris


    Arthur pushes open the bedroom door with his foot, careful not to bump my head against the frame. The moonlight streams through therge windows as he lowers me gently onto the plushforter of the bed.


    For a long moment, neither of us speaks. He hovers above me, both hands pressed firmly into the mattress on either side of my head. We just take each other in, studying each other in the moonlight; I drink in the square line of his jaw, the soft green irises staring at me, longshes sweeping across high cheekbones. His tousled dark hair, for once not styled to perfection for


    photographs.


    It''s like traveling back in time. Back to the days before he became Alpha President. Before my entire world was turned upside


    down.


    I can''t believe we spent five years apart.


    Especially can''t believe that now, after all that heartbreak, we''re here-in a ce that once meant the world to us, in a cabin he bought for me, with our son sleeping in the other room.


    In love.


    When he finally kisses me, it''s achingly tender at first-a soft press of his lips, a question rather than a demand. I answer by threading my fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, gently and slowly deepening the kiss until I can practically hear his


    heartbeat in my throat.


    Arthur''s hand slides beneath the hem of my shirt, his palm warm against my skin as it travels up my side. I shiver at his touch,


    arching into him instinctively.


    Slowly andnguidly, he begins to undress me, his fingers tracing each newly revealed inch of skin as if memorizing me all over again. When I''mpletely bare before him, I reach for him, tugging at his shirt. "Your turn."


    He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. The moonlight ys across the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, highlighting each ridge and peak. I run my hand across the nes of his body, trailing my fingers across all of his most


    sensitive spots.


    My hand moves of its own ord, not tracing in any particr direction-just feeling him, exploring him all over again.


    Just as my fingers begin to meander downward, down to that irresistible length of hard cock that''s hidden beneath too many


    As I writhe beneath him, he grips my wrists, pinning them gently to the mattress. I buck my hips as he grinds his hips against me,


    yearning to be free, to unbuckle his belt and feel his bare skin.


    But he''s traitorously slow. His tongue slips into my mouth, swirling, probing, then his mouth sucks my lower lip inward. His lips


    move down to my jaw, my neck, my corbone, and only then do his hands release my wrists and move to my breasts, thumbs


    +25 Bonus


    circling my nipples. They then travel downwards, dipping gently into my waist, fingers pressing into the soft flesh around my


    hips and ass.


    Free once more, I fumble with the button of his jeans. He chuckles and helps me, shucking them off along with his boxers and


    settling between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against me in a way that makes me whimper desperately.


    "Arthur," I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Please."


    "Not yet," he says, trailing kisses down my neck. "I want to take my time with you tonight."


    And he does. His mouth travels down my body,vishing attention on every sensitive spot-the hollow of my throat, the curve of my breasts, the soft skin of my inner thighs. When his tongue finally finds its way between my legs, I cry out, my fingers tangling


    in his hair.


    His tongue slips into my opening, thrusting gently into the first inch of space. It lingers there, swirling, tasting, pushing against


    my most sensitive spots.


    Just when I think I can''t take anymore, he slides two fingers inside of me while his tongue moves its relentless assault to my clit,


    and I nearly shatter.


    But just before I cane, he pulls away, fingers slipping out of me with a soft pop. He sits up on his knees and grins.


    "You..." I whimper, writhing ufortably. I feel like I''m about to burst, like I''ve just reached the verge of nirvana only to have


    it ripped away.


    Before I''ve fully recovered, Arthur moves back up my body, positioning himself at my entrance. He pauses, his eyes meeting mine


    in the moonlight.


    "I love you, Iris," he says, his member teasing the soft folds and dips of my pussy. "I''ve never stopped loving you."


    "I love you too," I whisper, although ites out choked and strained as his cock gently slides up and down between the folds,


    swollen head peaking at the top just enough to see it before it slips back down and swirls around my entrance.

 Chapter 245

    He enters me slowly, painfully so. First an inch, maybe less, and then he''s out of me again, sliding his shaft between my pussy.


    lips. I whine with need, but he just smirks and slips two inches in, then back out.


    It takes too long for him to finally fill every inch of me, too many times dipping in and out and up and down before he''s pushed all the way to the hilt.


    Then, out of nowhere, the room tilts. He flips me so I''m on my belly, and the sudden sensation of the subtle curve of his cock


    hitting my G-spot is enough to make me have to hide a surprised yelp into my pillow.


    "I like you like this," he murmurs, seating himself fully and leaning back, finger tracing a line down my spine. Both hands dig


    into my ass, fingernails slightly scraping against my soft skin in the sweetest way. "You''re beautiful from behind, my love."


    I can''t respond with words, only another muffled whimper as he begins to rock back and forth. Like this, with my legs pressed


    together, I''m almost unbearably tight-but he takes it slow, gently stretching me until a new wetness bursts forth, making each


    stroke glide with earth-shattering precision.


    I try to buck my ass upward, but I can''t. He holds me fast, hands still gripping my ass, and clicks his tongue like I''ve done


    something naughty. He says nothing, but the sound alone makes the pleasure build.


    As he continues to work me, slowly and painstakingly, he hunches over me and gently grips my throat, arching my back and


    tilting my head up to catch my lips in a searing kiss, swallowing my moans as the pleasure builds again.


    One of his hands slides beneath me then, lifting my hips to change the angle, and gasp as he hits a spot that sends sparks


    shooting up my spine.


    "Arthur," I pant, feeling the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each inch that my hips rise above the bed. "Oh, Goddess,


    Arthur."


    "That''s it," he growls against my ear. My ass is fully in the air now, face pressed to the mattress, and his strokes are confident


    and quick, the soft p of his balls against my clit building me to the breaking point. "Let go for me, Iris."


    His words burst a dam in me. Without warning, I suddenly crack and splinter around him, muscles contracting so hard and so


    quick that my entire body begins to tremble. I bite the pillow to muffle my cries, each wave of pleasure making me more and more


    lightheaded.


    Arthur doesn''t stop his movements to make way for my pleasure; if anything, my muffled whimpers just fuel him, and he moves


    faster, faster, faster until I can''t tell when one orgasm ends and the other begins. I arch my back as much as it will go, aching to


    feel more pleasure against my clit.


    And without even thinking, I reach beneath me-but I don''t go for my clit alone. I reach for his balls too, gently tug them against


    my swollen clit in a desperate attempt to bring us both to pleasure.


    A groan tears from his throat. "Iris-Fuck-"


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    He jerks suddenly, one hand mming against the headboard while the other grabs my free arm and tugs it behind my back, then pulls me up so I''m on my knees. In this position, every movement creates delicious friction, and I know neither of us willst


    much longer.


    "Say it again," Arthur demands as he pumps himself into me, hand moving from my arm to my throat, thumb slipping into my mouth. "Tell me you love me."


    "I love you," I gasp, tongue swirling around his thumb. I grip the headboard and dig my nails into the wood as I m my hips back against him. "I love you, Arthur. I love you!"


    We tumble over the edge together, my body clenching around him as he pulses inside of me. The pleasure is so intense it''s almost painful, and for a moment, I think I even see stars.


    Eventually, the tremors subside, but we don''t separate. We stay locked together, catching our breath, hearts pounding. I rest my head against the headboard, panting.


    "That was..." I can''t even find the right words.


    "Yeah," Arthur agrees with a chuckle. He brushes my hair back from my face with a gentle hand. "It was."


    When we finally disentangle our limbs, I''m almost too exhausted to move. Arthur pulls the covers over us, and I curl into his side,


    my head resting on his chest where I can hear the steady beat of his heart.


    That night, I dream happily about running through the forest alongside my mate. But I have four feet instead of two, fur instead


    of skin, and when I catch the gaze of the she-wolf, I swear her eyes glimmer with appreciation.

 Chapter 246

    Iris


    +25 Bonus


    I wake to the feeling of being watched. When I crack my eyes open, Arthur is propped up on one elbow beside me, staring directly at me with a smirk tugging at


    his lips.


    "Were you watching me sleep?" I mumble. "That''s creepy, you know."


    His smile widens. "I can''t help it. You''re beautiful when you sleep."


    I roll my eyes and pull the sheet up to cover my naked chest, suddenly aware of my tangled hair and morning breath. "I''m sure I


    look like a hot mess."


    "Emphasis on hot," he chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. "Sleep well?"


    "Mmm," I nod, stretching like a cat. My muscles protest from yesterday''s horseback riding andst night''s... activities, but it''s a


    pleasant kind of protest. "You?"


    "Best sleep I''ve had in years."


    "Where''s Miles?" I ask, suddenly realizing that the house is suspiciously quiet. Usually our son is up at the crack of dawn,


    bouncing on our bed and demanding breakfast.


    "With the ranch hand''s family," Arthur says, looking quite pleased with himself. "Turns out he has three kids around Miles'' age. They invited him for a day at their ce-they''ve got chickens, goats, horses, the works. Miles practically dragged me out of bed


    at sunrise to take him over there."


    I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "And you just... let a stranger take our son?"


    Arthur chuckles. "Rx, Iris. I met the whole family. They''re good people, and you can literally see their house from here. Plus, I did a background check on everyone who works here before I bought the ce."


    Of course he did. The man is nothing if not thorough.


    "So," I say, taking a deep breath, "does this mean we have the whole day to


    ourselves?"


    "The whole day," he confirms, his eyes darkening slightly as they drop to where the sheet is barely covering my breasts. "Any ideas on how to spend it?"


    I bite my lip, considering. As tempting as it is to spend the entire day in bed with him, we''re in one of the most beautiful ces in the world, it''s gorgeous and sunny outside, and I want to take advantage of it.


    "I was thinking about that waterfall,¡± I suggest. "The one we used to hike to, remember?"


    Arthur''s expression softens. "Silver Falls. Of course I remember."


    Silver Falls was our special ce during our vacations here years ago. A secluded waterfall tucked away in the forest, essible


    +25 Bonus


    only by a hidden trail that most tourists never discovered. We used to spend countless hours there, swimming in the crystal-clear pool, making love on the smooth rocks, Arthur lounging in the dappled sunshine while I sketched the scenery... and him.


    "That''s what I want to do today," I decide. "Hike to Silver Falls."


    "Done," Arthur says, already getting out of bed. He doesn''t bother with modesty, giving me a full view of his naked glory as he stretches. Even after all this time, the sight of him still makes my breath catch. "I''ll pack us a lunch."


    An hourter, we''re on the trail, the morning sun filtering through the canopy of trees above us. The path is narrower than I


    remember, less defined after years without our footsteps wearing it down.


    Arthur leads the way, asionally reaching back to help me over a fallen log or up a steep incline. We don''t talk much as we hike,


    both of us content to listen to the sounds of the forest-birds calling, leaves rustling, the distant sound of running water growing


    louder as we approach our destination.


    The familiarity of it all hits me suddenly. How many times had we walked this exact path together? How many secrets had we


    shared, dreams we''d whispered, promises we''d made under these same trees?


    And now here we are again, five years and a lifetime of experiencester, finding our way back to a ce that once meant


    everything to us. It''s surreal.


    "Almost there," Arthur says over his shoulder as the path begins to steepen. "It''s just through those trees."


    The sound of rushing water grows louder, and then suddenly the forest opens up, revealing the waterfall in all its glory. Silver


    Falls cascades down a moss-covered cliff, sshing into a crystal-clear pool surrounded by smooth rocks and lush greenery.


    It''s exactly as I remember it-a hidden paradise, our own private piece of heaven.


    "Wow," I breathe, taking it all in. "It hasn''t changed at all."


    Arthur sets down our backpack on a t rock andes to stand beside me. "Some things don''t."


    We stand there for a moment, just soaking in the view and the memories it brings. Thest time we were here was just a few


    months before our breakup, although neither of us knew it then. We''d made love on those rocks over there,ughed as we jumped


    from that small cliff into the pool, shared a pic on this very spot.


    I close my eyes, letting the sounds and smells of this ce wash over me. The


    crash of the waterfall, the earthy scent of moss and


    wet stone, the cool mist in the air. Something stirs inside me, a strange feeling I can''t quite ce-a restlessness, a yearning, a


    pulling toward... something.

 Chapter 247

    My wolf?


    I hold my breath, trying to grasp the feeling, to coax it to life. For a moment, it grows stronger, a warmth spreading through my chest, a heightened awareness of the forest around me-the scents sharper, the sounds clearer.


    But as quickly as it came, it fades, slipping away like water through my fingers. I let out a disappointed sigh and open my eyes to find Arthur already standing over by the edge of the pool.


    I wander over to him, dipping my fingers into the clear water. It''s cold. If we hade a few weeks earlier, we might have been


    able to swim...


    There''s a sudden ssh behind me, and I whirl around just in time to see Arthur''s head break the surface of the water. He''s stripped downpletely naked and jumped in while my back was turned.


    "Arthur!" I shriek as he shakes his head, sending water droplets flying in my direction. "What are you doing?"


    He grins up at me, treading water effortlessly. "What does it look like? I''m swimming." He sshes more water in my direction, this time deliberately aiming for me. "Join me!"


    "The water''s freezing!" I protest, backing away from the edge.


    "It''s refreshing," heughs, swimming closer. "Come on, Iris. Where''s your sense of adventure?"


    I roll my eyes, but I can''t help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I left


    it back at the ranch, along with my desire to catch hypothermia."


    "You were braver five years ago," he teases, floating on his back now,pletely at ease. "The Iris I knew would have jumped in by now."


    That does it. No one gets to tell me I''ve gone soft, not even Arthur. "Fine," I say, kicking off my hiking boots. "But if I freeze to death, it''s on you."


    I strip downpletely, painfully aware of Arthur''s eyes on me as I remove each piece of clothing. When I''m fully nude, the breeze kissing my bare skin, I move to the edge of the pool.


    Taking a deep breath, I jump. The shock of the cold water takes my breath away as I plunge beneath the surface. For a moment, the world is reduced to the muffled roar of the waterfall and the cold shock against my skin.


    Then I kick upward, breaking the surface with a gasp. "Holy shit, it''s cold!"


    Arthurughs, swimming over to me. "You get used to it. Feels good, right?"


    I''m about to tell him exactly how wrong he is when I realize that, surprisingly, he''s right. After the initial shock, the water does feel good..


    "Maybe," I admit grudgingly.


    His grin is insufferable. "Told you."


    I ssh water directly in his face, wiping the smug look right off of it. "Don''t gloat. It''s unattractive."


    His eyes narrow, and suddenly, he''s sending a wave of water crashing over my head.


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    What follows is what I can only describe as a ssh war, both of usughing and shrieking like children as we try to drench each


    other. Our shouts echo between the rocks, partially muffled by the roar of the waterfall.


    By the time we call a truce, we''re both breathing hard, our hair stered to our heads, underwearpletely soaked through.


    "Feel better?" Arthur asks, swimming closer until we''re face to face, treading water in the deepest part of the pool.


    I nod, suddenly aware of how close we are, how his eyes have darkened to that familiar shade of emerald that means he''s


    thinking things that have nothing to do with swimming.


    "Much better," I murmur, wrapping my legs around his waist as he supports us both, his hands under my thighs.


    We''re both still grinning like idiots when our lips meet, the kiss tasting of mountain water. His tongue slips into my mouth, and I


    press myself closer, the cold of the water forgotten heat builds between us.


    as


    One of his hands slides up my back, tangling in my wet hair as he deepens the


    kiss. I can feel him hardening against me, even


    through the cold water and theyers of our underwear.


    "Arthur," I gasp against his lips. "We should-"


    "Yeah," he agrees, already moving us toward the shore. "Immediately."


    We stumble out of the water, leaving puddles on the sun-warmed rocks. Arthur


    reaches for a towel from our backpack, wrapping


    it around me first before grabbing another for himself.


    "We should probably head back soon," he says, although his eyes say something


    entirely different as they roam over my body.


    "Miles will be back at the ranch by dinner time."


    I bite my lip and stare back at him with just as much ferocity. The man I love. My


    Alpha President. My mate. "Just as soon as we


    dry off," I murmur.


    We both know it''s going to take a while.

 Chapter 248

    Iris


    The evening breeze drifts through the open windows of the ranch house, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. Miles is


    already fast asleep in bed, worn out from a day of ying with the ranch hand''s children and helping feed the baby goats.


    Apparently, he had a st and got along exceptionally well with the other kids.


    Now, after a talkative dinner and a bedtime involving a few tears because Miles had a minor exhaustion-induced meltdown, the


    house is blissfully quiet except for the asional creak of the old wooden beams and the sound of paper rustling as Arthur reads a


    book on the couch across from me.


    I sit cross-legged in an armchair with my sketchbook bnced on my knees. My pencil moves almost of its own ord, tracing


    lines that gradually form the outline of three figures on horseback.


    I smile as I sketch Miles''s expression of wonder, his little hand pointing toward the ridge where the she-wolf stood watching us


    yesterday. Arthur''s gaze follows, and I stand beside them, the wind blowing my hair.


    This will be the centerpiece of my final exhibition for the artist residency, which ising up in just a few short weeks. I''ve been mulling over what to create for months now, but haven''t been able to settle on anything. I just knew that I wanted it to be


    something meaningful.


    But as the months ticked on and the end of my residency crept closer, I just couldn''t seem toe up with anything. I sketched more than a few ideas, but nothing felt... right. I must have wasted at least half a sketchbook''s worth of paper in an attempt to


    And then we saw the wolf yesterday, in all her glory, and everything clicked into ce.


    My pencil hovers over the page as I consider how to depict her. The wolf was magnificent-wild and free and utterly beautiful, and the artist in me wants nothing more than to paint her and show her to the world. But each time I try to convince myself to


    draw her, I just... can''t.


    It feels wrong somehow, like a disservice to her. Once again, I feel as if painting her, especially on a canvas that hundreds of eyes will see-likely even more now that people know who I am-might strip her of her freedom in some way.


    And in a strange way, that moment when I locked eyes with her felt so... private. Intimate. Like a moment that was only meant for


    us and no one else.


    Instead, I sketch in a gnarled tree branch extending from the foreground, partially obscuring the ridge where she stood. To anyone else, it will look like a simplepositional choice. But I''ll know-and Arthur will know, once he sees the finished piece


    -that she''s there, just out of sight, watching over us.


    "What are you working on?" Arthur''s voice suddenly asks. I jump, not having


    realized that he got up from his seat and is now


    behind me, trying to peer over my shoulder.


    +25 Bonus


    I quickly close my sketchbook and tuck it against my chest. "You can''t see it yet."


    His eyebrows lift. "A surprise? For me?"


    "Don''t get a big head. Maybe it''s for Miles."


    "Liar," he says fondly, reaching over my shoulder for the sketchbook. "Let me see."


    "Absolutely not." I jump up, whirl around, and hide the sketchbook behind my back. "You''ll have to wait for the exhibition like everyone else, Mr. President."


    "Is that so? Well, Mr. President has ways of making people talk," he says, stalking around the chair and toward me.


    I shriek withughter as he lunges, trying to grab the sketchbook with one hand while tickling my ribs with the other. I twist away, but he''s faster and stronger. Within seconds, he has me pinned to the chair, both of us breathless.


    "You''re terrible," I gasp as he nts kisses along my neck. "This is extortion." "Consider it... gentle persuasion," he murmurs, his hand inching toward the sketchbook again as his tongueps at the sensitive


    spot just below my ear.


    I swat him away, even though I want to relent under the pressure of his warm mouth grazing my skin. "If you peek, I''ll never forgive you," I breathe.


    Arthur sighs and sits up, then returns to his spot on the sofa, feigning hurt all the while. "Fine, keep your secrets. I''ll just sit here


    all alone, unloved and uncared for."


    I roll my eyes, but can''t help butugh. "You poor thing. How

 Chapter 249

    The rest of our vacation passes in a simr fashionzy mornings, outdoor adventures with Miles during the day, quiet


    evenings together after he goes to bed. I work on my sketch whenever I have a moment alone, refining details and making notes


    about colors and textures for the final piece.


    This vacation is the most rxed I''ve seen Arthur in years-since before his presidential campaign began. Away from the


    constant pressure of being Alpha President, he''s yful, affectionate, and fully present with Miles and me in a way he rarely has


    time to be back in the city.


    But I have to admit, by the time we''re packing to leave, I''m eager to get home. I miss my apartment and my coffee dates with


    Alice, and now that I''ve finished the sketch for my painting, I''m eager to get back to my studio so I can start outlining it on the


    canvas.


    The flight back to Ordan feels infinitely shorter than the journey out, or maybe that''s just because Miles and I both knock out the


    moment the ne takes off-both exhausted from our adventure.


    Before I know it, we''re touching down, and Ezra meets us at the airstrip. But as we climb into the waiting car, I can''t help but


    notice his grim expression.


    "What happened?" Arthur asks once we''re inside the secure vehicle, clearly picking up on the same thing I did.


    "A lot," Ezra admits. "Iris''s debut was even more sessful than anticipated. The polls are showing an 87% approval rating for


    her after the confrontation with Selina."


    I blink in surprise. "Seriously?" I didn''t expect anyone to care that much about that ¡ªat least, gaining approval from the masses


    is certainly not the reason why I said the things I did-and I certainly wasn''t anticipating so much approval.


    Ezra nods. "People love a good redemption story, and your gracious handling of the situation won over even some of Selina''s


    staunchest supporters. The way you referred to her as your ''sister'' and invited her to enjoy the party made youe across like a


    kind and forgiving person."


    "So I''m popr now?" The concept is bizarre after the disastrous event where my dress was destroyed and the subsequent


    interview where I felt like a Selina clone.


    "Very," Ezra replies. "Your approval rating is actually higher than Arthur''s, which is saying something since his usually sitsfortably around 85%. It probably won''t be permanent-approval ratings tend to peak like this then dip slightly once the buzz passes-but right now, you''re looking fantastic. And everyone seems to have forgotten about your initial:.. faux pas. No offense."


    "None taken,¡± I say, shuddering slightly at the reminder.


    Arthur''s eyebrows rise. "There''s something else, though, isn''t it? Good news doesn''t usually make you look like you''ve


    swallowed a lemon, Ezra."


    Ezra''s mouth thins. "You''re right, Alpha. There has been... another development."


    +25 Bonus


    As Ezra pulls out of the airport parking lot, he exins that Selina''s approval ratings have dropped significantly since the ball.


    Her ratings were already lowering during hera, thanks to rumors about the car crash and the newsing out that she''s not


    actually a Willford.


    But after her unexpected attempt to crash my debut, her ratings dropped even further.


    "Her approval rating has tanked," Ezra exins. "Down to 12%. And that percent is mostly made up of die-hard supporters who think this is all a conspiracy to discredit her. After the way she crashed your party, people then got hold of the information


    regarding the car crash, and the masses are calling for justice; some are even saying that she should get life in prison for it."


    Life in prison. I have to admit, with Selina in thea, I didn''t really consider what sort of punishment she should receive for


    what she did¡ªnot even just the car crash, but also calling CPS and trying to get Miles taken away while I was injured in the hospital.


    I guess I thought that a fuckinga would be punishment enough. None of us thought she would ever wake up from it, honestly.


    And then right after she woke up, we went on vacation, and obviously my mind was preupied...


    "So what happens now?" I ask, ncing at Arthur. His jaw is set hard, eyes dark with that look that I know all too well.


    Ezra nces at us in the rearview mirror. "Your parents have called a meeting at the Willford estate, actually," he says. "They''ve


    requested both of you attend so you can discuss Selina''s fate."

 Chapter 250

    We don''t even have a chance to stop at home first. After getting all the details from Ezra about the Selina situation, Arthur tells


    him to take us directly to my parents'' estate. Miles stays asleep throughout most of the ride,pletely unaware. I envy his


    blissful ignorance.


    The Willford estate looks just as lovely as ever as we pull up the long circr driveway. Despite having been here multiple times


    now, I still haven''t fully adjusted to the fact that these people are my biological parents, and this massive house-more like a


    small pce, really-is where I should have grown up.


    The butler greets us at the door and immediately leads us to my father''s study. My mother, father, and Caleb are already waiting inside. A quick nce confirms that Selina isn''t here, which is a relief. I''m not ready to face her again just yet.


    "Iris, Arthur," my father says, standing to greet us. "Thank you foring so quickly. I hope we didn''t put a damper on your


    vacation."


    "Where''s Selina?" Arthur asks, not bothering with pleasantries.


    "At her apartment," my mother replies. "With security, of course. We thought it best to discuss the situation without her present


    first."


    Arthur nods curtly, maintaining hisposure, but I can feel the anger radiating off of him. After handing the still-sleeping


    Miles off to Ezra, who takes him to the room my parents have prepared, we take our seats in the plush leather chairs arranged in


    front of my father''s massive desk.


    "So," my father begins, folding his hands on the desk. "I assume your Beta has filled you in on the public reaction to


    everything?"


    Arthur and I both nod.


    My parents exchange a nce, and it''s my father who finally speaks. "We need to consider all sides of this situation. Yes, Selina''s


    actions were reprehensible. But let''s not forget that you, Arthur, put her in aa."


    "It was an ident," Arthur growls. "And she tried to kill my mate."


    "We know," my mother says soothingly. "But the situation isn''t ck and white. Selina is still our daughter, just as much as Iris


    1. is. We raised her for twenty-six years. We can''t simply throw her to the wolves now."


    "What exactly are you proposing?" I ask.


    Caleb clears his throat. "Before we get to that, there''s something you both should know." He hesitates, ncing at our parents, who nod for him to continue. "Selina has struggled with severe mental health issues since she was a teenager. Bipr disorder, primarily, although there have been several other diagnoses over the years."


    +25 Bonus


    This is news to me. I look at Arthur, whose expression tells me he didn''t know either.


    "The family kept it quiet," Caleb continues. "You know how it is in these circles- mental illness is seen as a weakness,


    something to be hidden away. But during hera, I investigated her apartment, trying to understand what led to her actions.


    She''d stopped taking her medication months before the incident."


    "That doesn''t excuse what she did," Arthur says firmly.


    "No," my father agrees. "It doesn''t. But it does give us context. Selina wasn''t


    entirely herself when she made those choices."


    I fidget in my seat, torn between self-righteous anger and a reluctant


    understanding. I know very well how mental health issues


    can affect someone''s behavior. Selina was always a cold person, but maybe going to the length of trying to kill someone wasn''t


    really her.


    "What are you suggesting, then?" Arthur asks. "That we just... forgive and forget?"


    "Of course not," my father says. "There must be consequences. But we''re asking you both to consider an alternative to


    imprisonment."


    "Such as?" I prompt.


    "House arrest," my mother says. "With strict monitoring, of course."


    Arthur looks like he''s about to explode, so I ce a hand on his arm. "Can Arthur


    and I have a moment to discuss this privately?"


    My father nods, and we excuse ourselves to the hallway outside the study.


    As soon as the door closes behind us, Arthur turns to me. "They can''t be serious. After everything she did to you, they want to let


    her off with a p on the wrist?"


    "I know," I sigh. "But I can see their point, too. They raised her, Arthur. They love her."


    "She tried to kill you," he reminds me, as if I could possibly forget. "Then, to make matters worse, she called CPS on you while


    you were injured. She could have cost us Miles."


    "I know that too," I say quietly. "Better than anyone."


    "She deserves life in prison. I can''t even believe we''re even discussing


    alternatives."


    I hesitate, biting my lip before I say softly, "I don''t know, Arthur. Maybe my parents have a point."


    He looks like I just told him the earth is t. "What?"


    "Our approval ratings skyrocketed after I was gracious to her at the party," I say. "People loved that I didn''t stoop to her level, that I extended an olive branch despite everything. Maybe we should do the same now."

 Chapter 251

    Arthur frowns. "You want to use this as a PR opportunity?"


    "That''s not what I''m saying," I protest, although it''s not entirely untrue. "Look, I hate what Selina did. I''m furious and scared


    and I never want her anywhere near Miles again. But I also think that maybe, with the right help, she could be... I don''t know, rehabilitated? And if that happens to boost our public image aspassionate leaders, is that really so bad?"


    "So you''re suggesting we agree to house arrest," Arthur says tly.


    "With conditions," I rify. "Strict ones. She gets psychiatric help, doesmunity service, and most importantly, stays the hell


    from you, me, and Miles. Forever."


    away


    Arthur is quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as he processes this. "I don''t like it," he finally says. "I don''t trust her to abide


    by any restrictions."


    ¡°Neither do I,¡± I admit. "But we can insist on security measures. Monitoring. Whatever it takes to ensure she doesn''t break the


    rules. And if¡ªor maybe when-she does slip up, then she goes straight to prison. No more chances."


    He studies my face. "Are you sure about this? After everything she''s done?"


    "No," I confess. "I''m not sure about anything. But I do know that letting her rot in prison won''t bring any closure. And if there''s


    a chance that this approach might allow for healing-not just for her, but for my parents too-while also keeping us safe... maybe it''s worth considering."


    Arthur exhales slowly. "You''re too forgiving for your own good, you know that?" "Trust me," I say coldly, my eyes narrowing, "I''m not forgiving her."


    He looks at me for a moment, then nods. "Fine. If this is what you want, then I''ll agree to it. But she gets one chance, Iris. One."


    I nod in agreement. When we return to the study, my parents and Caleb look up expectantly.


    "We''ve discussed it," Arthur announces. "We are willing to agree to house arrest under certain non-negotiable conditions."


    My father tilts his head. "Which are?"


    "First,prehensive psychiatric treatment. Not just medication, but intensive therapy with a professional of our choosing." He nces at me.


    "Second,munity service," I say. "The orphanage where I grew up is in need of repairs and extra assistance. I want her to spend at least twenty hours a week working there, with no pay, and I want her to make a yearly donation to the Ordan National Orphanage Fund for the rest of her life."


    My parents exchange nces, but my mother nods. "That''s reasonable."


    "And third," Arthur goes on, "absolutely no contact with me, Iris, or Miles. Not in person, not by phone, not by letter, not


    through intermediaries. Nothing.''


    +25 Bonus


    "That seems excessive," my father argues, ncing at me. "She is still family. Once her house arrest ends, there may be family


    banquets and public events that you''ll both have to attend."


    "That''s the only exception," I say before Arthur can answer. ¡°But I expect her to be monitored closely during those events. If she pulls any stunts, I want her removed."


    My parents are silent for a long moment, and I almost wonder if they can hear my heart pounding in the quiet room. They might be my biological parents, but I still don''t know them all that well after two and a half decades of separation. Every bit of the human orphan that still exists in me is screaming at me for being so demanding toward the upper echelon of werewolf society.


    "Very well," my father finally says. "We agree to your terms. Selina will be informed tomorrow."


    Arthur nods. "Then we have a deal."


    "Thank you," my mother says, looking relieved. "Both of you. I know this isn''t easy."


    "It''s not," Arthur agrees curtly. "And if she breaks the rules, even once-"


    "We understand," my father interrupts. "And we''ll ensure she does too."


    As we rise to leave, there''s a knock at the door. Ezra enters, looking apologetic. "I''m sorry to interrupt, but Miles is awake and not feeling well," he says, ncing at me and Arthur. "He''s throwing up. And seems to be running a slight fever."


    My stomach jolts, and I jump up from my seat. "We should get him home, Arthur," I say, already moving toward the door.


    "Not in that condition," my mother protests, rising from her own chair. "Why don''t you all stay here tonight? There''s plenty of room, and it will save you traveling with a sick child."


    I nce at Arthur, who shrugs slightly, leaving the decision to me. I really want to


    get home to my studio so I can work on my final piece, but my mother is right. It''s better to let Miles rest.


    "Alright," I say. "We''ll stay."

 Chapter 252

    Iris


    I can''t sleep. It''s partly due to worry about Miles-his fever has gone down with the


    medicine my mother had on hand, but he''s


    still restless-and partly everything else that''s swirling around in my head.


    Selina, the residency ending, Arthur, my wolf... it''s all too much to process while lying in an unfamiliar bed, staring up at an


    ornate ceiling that I hardly recognize.


    After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, I finally slip out of bed, careful not to wake Arthur. He''s sprawled on his side,


    breathing deeply, one arm still extended toward where I was lying. Even in sleep, he reaches for me.


    I pull on a robe that was hanging in the en-suite bathroom and slip into the hallway. The Willford estate is eerily quiet at night,


    but the moonlight streaming through the enormous windows is also beautiful. I''ve never had a chance to really explore this


    ce, especially not at night.


    The corridors seem endless, each one lined with priceless artwork and antique furniture. I run my fingers along the smooth


    wooden banister as I descend a grand staircase, trying to imagine growing up here.


    Would I have slid down this banister as a child? Would I have hidden behind these heavy drapes during games of hide-and-seek


    with Caleb?


    Instead, I grew up in a cramped orphanage with peeling paint and too few nkets, sharing a room with several other girls. The


    contrast is jarring. I had nothing, and now I have... all of this. ess to wealth, power, luxury beyond anything I could have


    imagined.


    A strange, ufortable feeling settles in my stomach. Not quite guilt, but something adjacent to it. What did I do to deserve


    this life of privilege? Nothing except being born with the right blood.


    I follow a dimly lit corridor that leads to what appears to be the east wing of the


    house. Eventually, I find myself at a set of ss


    doors that open onto a courtyard.


    Stepping outside, I''m met with the soft sound of running water. The courtyard is a meticulously maintained garden with stone


    pathways winding between flowerbeds, statues, and small trees. In the center stands arge fountain-a woman pouring water


    from a jug, the marble gleaming white in the moonlight.


    I approach the fountain, drawn to the peaceful sound of the trickling water.


    Looking down, I see my reflection rippling in the pool


    below. My face, distorted by the gentle movement of the water, looks back up at me.


    Is this really me, I wonder? Iris Willford, daughter of one of the most powerful werewolf families in the country, and mate to the


    Alpha President?


    Sometimes it still feels like I''m dreaming. Like I''ll wake up at any moment.


    But I know it''s not true. This is my life now, no matter how strange it feels.


    +25 Bonus


    My mind begins to wander. Once my residency is over, what then? Move in with my parents and live thevish life of a princess?


    Focus on being Arthur''s mate and the Luna of Ordan? Give up artpletely?


    The thought makes me sick. I can''t give up my art, but I also can''t leave behind this life that I''ve only just discovered. I never


    thought I would say this, but this life... suits me. Maybe it''s all the training, or maybe it''s just knowing that I finally have a real


    family, but still.


    I feel like I''ve found my ce, even if it all feels surreal.


    "Can''t sleep?" a soft voice asks from behind me.


    I turn to find my mother standing a few feet away, wrapped in an elegant dressing gown. Her hair is loose around her shoulders,


    and it''s a lot longer than I thought it was, cascading down all the way to the small of her back.


    "No," I admit. "Too much on my mind."


    She nods understandingly and moves to sit on the edge of the fountain. After a moment of hesitation, I join her.


    "I like toe here at night too," she says, trailing her fingers through the water. "When I need to think, or when I''m just


    feeling overwhelmed."


    I study her face, struck by her words. She always seems soposed, so


    perfectly suited to her role. It''s hard to imagine her


    feeling overwhelmed or restless. She tilts her head as she looks up at me. "What''s


    on your mind, sweetheart?"

 Chapter 253

    +25 Bonus


    "I don''t know what I''m supposed to do after my residency ends," I confess. "I love art, but it feels... I don''t know, pointless now.


    Like people will only care about it now because of who I am and not because they actually like it."


    ¡°Perhaps people will only pay attention because of who you are now," she says, which isn''t exactly reassuring. "But that''s not


    necessarily a bad thing."


    "What?"


    She turns to face me fully. "The role of a Luna isn''t just to stand beside the Alpha and look pretty, Iris. And the role of a wealthy


    heiress isn''t just to be... well, wealthy." She chuckles. "You''ve got people paying attention to you now. You can use your medium


    to your advantage-find a way to do some good with your art now that you don''t have to worry about scrabbling your way to the


    top."


    Before I can answer, she goes on, "I know you care about children-your suggestion earlier formunity service was brilliant.


    Putting Selina through that will not only be good for her as a person, but also for the children, and for your image. I could see you


    doing simr things with your art."


    I frown skeptically. "Sure, but I wouldn''t even know where to start."


    She considers for a moment, then says, "If you want a suggestion, then I will say


    that arts education is being cut from schools all


    over the country, especially in poorer districts. Children who might have discovered a talent or passion for painting or music


    never get the chance. Children like you were, growing up in that orphanage. You could find a way to help them."


    The idea strikes a chord in me. I think about how art saved me during those difficult years-how a single art teacher who


    volunteered at the orphanage noticed my talent and encouraged it, even bringing me supplies when the orphanage couldn''t


    afford them.


    "I''ll... I''ll consider my options," I say, looking at her. "Thank you... Mom." It still feels weird saying that. "I appreciate your


    advice. I''m not used to this. Any of this."


    My mother''s eyes glisten with unshed tears at the term, and she reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of my face. I


    instinctively lean into her hand, feeling a surge of emotion at the fact that I always yearned to have a mother''s touch. For a


    moment, we just sit like that, her hand cupping my face and both of our eyes misted over with tears.


    "I spent years coaching Selina on these very matters," she finally says, rising. "If you ever need insight or advice, I''m here." She


    smiles. "I''ll always be here, Iris."


    After she leaves, I remain by the fountain, my mind racing and my eyes wet. As the tears fade and my thoughts slowly organize, I


    begin to truly consider my mother''s words. I begin to think that maybe she''s right. This doesn''t have to be the end of my


    authenticity as an artist. I just need to shift my reason for making art to something less focused on earning money to survive and


    more focused on helping others survive.


    I pull out my phone and open the notes app, starting to jot down ideas for my final presentation at the residency exhibit. Instead


    +25 Bonus


    of just disying my art, I could use the opportunity tounch a charitable initiative.


    Maybe something thatbines my artwork with a cause-specifically, promoting arts education for underprivileged children.


    I''m so absorbed in my notes that I don''t immediately notice the soft footsteps approaching. When I finally look up, I see an


    elderly woman standing a few yards away, watching me. She''s dressed in a simple gray dress-a servant, perhaps, although it''s strange for staff to be up at this hour.


    Our eyes meet, and something in her expression makes me uneasy. She''s staring at me with an intensity that feels inappropriate, almost intrusive. For a moment, she seems frozen in ce, then her eyes widen slightly as if in recognition or shock.


    Before I can say anything, she turns and hurries away, leaving me confused.

 Chapter 254

    The morning sun shines through therge windows of the dining room as we all gather for breakfast. Miles is feeling much


    better, and thankfully, his fever waspletely gone when I checked on him this morning. He''s currently perched on my mother''sp, happily devouring a stack of chocte chip pancakes that the cook made especially for him.


    It seems as though Miles'' brief bout of food poisoningst night-likely from the sandwich Arthur and I picked up for him on the


    way to the airport-has left him ravenous.


    "Slow down, sweetie," Iugh from across the table. "The pancakes aren''t going anywhere."


    Miles ignores mepletely, too busy stuffing his face and basking in the attention my mother isvishing on him. She seems


    mouth.


    The sight nearly makes me burst into tears.


    Is this what I missed growing up? A mother who would cut my food and clean my face? Who would look at me with such


    adoration?


    It''s not just about me, though. I don''t even care at this point that I didn''t get to have this as a child. I''m just d to see Miles


    being doted on by grandparents who love him -a dream that I''ve had for him since the moment I held him in my arms for the


    first time.


    "He''s got quite the appetite," my fatherments with a chuckle. "Just like someone else I know." He nces at Arthur, who is


    currently on his third helping of eggs and bacon.


    Arthur smiles around a mouthful of bacon. "What can I say? Goes right to the muscles."


    "True enough," my father agrees, pouring himself more coffee. "I remember when I was your age, I could eat an entire roast by


    myself after a good run."


    "You still can," my mother quips without looking up from helping Miles with his juice. "I''ve seen you do it."


    We allugh, and I find myself marveling at how... normal this all feels. Sitting around a table with my family-my real, biological family-sharing breakfast and jokes. It''s something I never thought I''d experience, something I''d long ago given up dreaming


    about.


    I want to savor it until the end of my days.


    Suddenly, the dining room door opens, and an elderly woman enters. I do a double take when I see her; it''s the same woman fromst night, the one who stared at me so strangely in the courtyard before hurrying away.


    She''s dressed more formally now, in a neat gray dress with a white cor, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of


    her neck. She stops in the doorway, hands folded neatly in front of her.


    "Ah, Nora," my mother says warmly. "Come join us."


    The woman hesitates, her eyes flicking to me briefly before she approaches the table.


    "Iris, this is Nora," my mother exins. "She''s been with our family for many years. She''s the family nanny."


    My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.


    +25 Bonus


    "Nora has been a trusted advisor and friend to our family for decades," my father adds. "She helped raise both Caleb and... well, Selina."


    His voice trails off meaningfully, and for a moment, the table goes quiet as the implication sinks in. If I hadn''t been switched at birth, Nora would have been my nanny. Not Selina''s.


    I can''t even believe that I would have had a nanny. At the orphanage, if the headmistress was busy-which she often was-it was usually the older children who cared for the younger ones.


    My mother smiles and breaks the tension. "Nora actually helped deliver you, Iris. She held my hand the whole time and practically pushed the nurses out of the way to get to you when you finally popped out after a grueling eighteen hours ofbor."


    I look at Nora in surprise, who nods her head politely. I almost want to ask if she had any idea that I was swapped, but I doubt it. No one knew. It''s just one of those things that happens sometimes; maternity wards get crowded. Mistakes happen.

 Chapter 255

    "It''s lovely to meet you," I say, standing and extending my hand to her. "Properly, I mean. I think we had a bit of an awkward


    momentst night in the courtyard."


    "Yes," she says stiffly, briefly shaking my hand. "I apologize for staring. It was quite rude of me. My old eyes aren''t what they


    used to be, so I didn''t recognize you."


    "No worries," I assure her with a smile. "I was the one wandering around in the middle of the night."


    There''s an ufortable pause, and I wonder if I''ve said something wrong. Nora doesn''t seem particrly warm toward me, although she smiles slightly at Miles when he looks up at her.


    My mother beckons her closer. "Come have some breakfast, Nora. We''re having a family morning."


    "I wouldn''t want to intrude," Nora says, although she does take a seat at the far end of the table when my father insists. Far away


    from me.


    "You''re not intruding," Caleb assures her. "You''re practically family." He turns to me. "Nora was more of a mother to me than a


    nanny when we were growing up."


    Our mother gasps. "Caleb!"


    My brother''s face reddens. "I didn''t mean it like that. It''s just that you and Dad were often busy with your duties, but Nora was


    always there. I felt like I had two mothers at times." He gives Nora a warm smile, which she returns. Sort of.


    I nod, trying to imagine this stern woman caring for a young Caleb. It''s not hard to picture her ensuring he did his homework and


    ate his vegetables, but I wonder if she was affectionate too. Did she hug him when he fell and hurt himself? Did she tuck him in at


    night and read him stories?


    Did she do those things for Selina, thinking she was me?


    The thought brings up a strange mixture of emotions-jealousy, sadness, curiosity. I push them aside, though, and focus on


    being polite.


    "It''s wonderful to finally meet you, then,¡± I say to Nora. ¡°I''m grateful for everything you did for my family."


    Nora gives me a small nod but says nothing more. Throughout the rest of breakfast, she speaks when spoken to, but otherwise remains quiet, asionally stealing nces at me when she thinks I''m not looking.


    I try not to let it bother me. She''s probably just shy, or perhaps feels a little guilty that I was swapped at birth. Or maybe she''s just


    not a very warm person in general. Not everyone has to be a ball of sunshine all the time, after all.


    After breakfast, we say our goodbyes to my parents and Caleb. My mother hugs me tightly, whispering, "Think about what we


    discussedst night," in my ear. I offer her a subtle nod and a smile as I pull back.


    I''ve already got a lot of ideas in regards tost night''s discussion. I hardly slept, too busy thinking about all of the possibilities.


    +25 Bonus


    I''m hoping to unveil some of my ideas at the end of my residency as part of my final presentation.


    By the time we arrive, I''m buzzing to get to work. I hardly even wait for Arthur to park the car before I''m getting out and


    gathering my things.


    Arthur sticks around briefly, helping me and Miles settle in. I''m not thrilled to see him go, but we both have duties to attend to him more than me, what with a week''s worth of presidential responsibilities to catch up on.


    We say goodbye at the door with a promise to see each other soon. I watch him go, trying not to think too hard about moving back in with him once this is all over- no more goodbyes, no more sleepovers.


    Once Miles is settled with a snack and a movie, I hurry to my studio and pull out thergest canvas I have-a monster of a canvas spanning five and a half feet across and six feet tall. Iy out my paints and other supplies, roll up my sleeves, and throw open the windows so I don''t breathe in too many fumes.


    And then I get to work.

 Chapter 256

    Iris


    "Mommy? Mommy, wake up!"


    I jolt awake to find Miles shaking my shoulder. The studio floor is hard beneath me, and my neck aches from the awkward angle I must have slept in. Scattered around ine are paint tubes, brushes soaking in water, and a half- empty coffee mug with a film on top that makes me almost gag.


    "What time is it?" I groan, pushing myself up.


    "It''s morning time," Miles informs me. "I''m hungry."


    Of course he is. I rub my eyes, trying to orient myself. Thest thing I remember is adding the final touches to the sky in my painting, determined to get the exact shade of blue I wanted.


    My gaze drifts to the massive canvas propped against the far wall, and despite my exhaustion, I feel a rush of excitement course through me. It''s done. Finally, after weeks of work, my final piece isplete.


    The painting shows us on horseback, exactly as we were that day at the ranch. Arthur sits tall on Thunder, one arm around Miles, who points excitedly toward a ridge in the distance.


    I''m on Buttercup, slightly behind them, my hair caught in the wind. And there, in the foreground, is the pine


    branch obstructing the view of what exactly Miles is pointing at.


    The she-wolf.


    I meant for the wolf to be our little secret, something only Arthur and I would recognize. But looking at it now in the morning light, I wonder if others might sense her presence too, might feel the quiet power emanating from that hidden corner of the canvas.


    "Mommy, I''m hungry," Miles repeats, tugging at my paint-sttered shirt.


    "Right, sorry." I scramble to my feet, my joints protesting the movement after hours on the hard floor. "Let''s get you some breakfast."


    As Miles eats his breakfast, I mentally organize my day. The exhibition is in two days, which means I still have time to finalize my presentation. I''ve decided to focus on theck of arts funding for schools in Ordan-an issue that''s close to my heart and perfectly aligned with the conversation I had with my mother at the estate.


    But I need more than just statistics and my own experience. I need firsthand ounts from the people dealing with these cuts every day.


    After getting Miles ready for the day, I make some calls. By noon, I''ve arranged interviews with three art teachers from different schools across the city-one from an affluent district, one from a middle-ss area, and one from a school in a neighborhood simr to where I grew up.


    I drop Miles off with Alice, who''s more than happy to watch him for a few hours. "So the mysterious painting is finally done?" she asks as Miles runs off to y with her cat.


    "Yep," I confirm with a nod. "I''ll give you a sneak peek before the exhibition if you


    want.''


    "Obviously I want," she says with mock offense. "I''m your best friend. I deserve exclusive previews."


    My first interview is at Westside Elementary, one of the better-funded schools in Ordan-and where I''ve actually signed Miles up to start kindergarten in a month. Even so, the art room shows signs of budget constraints-dried-


    up markers, brushes with syed bristles, paper that''s too thin for proper watercolors.


    "It gets worse every year," the teacher tells me as we sit at the tiny desks that are meant for the children. "Five yeafs ago, I had a budget of five thousand dors per semester. Last year, it was down to fifteen hundred. This year, they gave me eight hundred and told me to be grateful"


    "Where is the money going?" I ask.


    She shrugs. "That''s the million-dor question, isn''t it? Administration says enrollment is down, costs are up. But when I look at the football team getting new uniforms every season..." She trails off, clearly not wanting to say something she might regret.


    My next interview at Midtown Junior High tells a simr story. The teacher, a dedicated man in his fifties, points to shelves of musical instruments gathering dust.


    "We had to cut the band programpletely," he exins. "Now I teach visual arts in the morning and drama in the afternoon, trying to cover everything with less than half the resources we had before. The kids are the ones who suffer."


    When I ask where the funding went, just like the first interview, he seems reluctant to specte. ¡°AIN know is that it wasn''t redirected to any other department. Science still uses textbooks from the nies. The gym ceiling leaks. It''s not like anyone in this building is seeing that money."


    By the time I reach my final interview at Eastside Elementary-a school serving one of Ordan''s poorest neighborhoods-I have a gnawing suspicion in my gut. The teacher is young, but I can already tell her passion is


    fading.


    "It''s not just arts funding," she says quietly, ncing around as if worried about being overheard even though we''re alone in her ssroom. "It''s everything. Last year, we were approved for a major renovation-new windows, updated wiring, a proper venttion system. The money was allocated, then suddenly ''redirected.'' No exnation, no timeline for when we might see those improvements." Chapter 257

 Chapter 257

    She shows me a storage closet where ck mold grows freely on the ceiling. "I bring my own supplies most days," she admits. "I can''t stand the thought of these kids not having at least one bright spot in their day, so I use part of my paycheck to buy new stuff."


    By the time I leave Eastside, my blood is boiling. Money allocated for schools- especially those serving more human students on average-is disappearing, and no one seems to be asking where it''s going.


    I call Arthur as soon as I get back to my car.


    "Hey," he answers on the first ring. "How''s the paintinging along?"


    "It''s done," I say, too distracted to borate. "But listen, I''ve been interviewing art teachers today for my presentation, and I think there''s something seriously wrong with school funding in Ordan."


    I exin what I''ve discovered. Arthur listens quietly the entire time. "The money isn''t being redirected to other departments," I finish. "It''s just... gone. Someone''s pocketing it, Arthur. I''m sure of it."


    There''s a pause, and then: "Do you have any documentation? Specific budget numbers, names of officials involved?"


    "Not yet,¡± I admit, biting my lower lip. "Just what these teachers have told me. But if you looked into it-"


    "I will," he promises, and I can tell he means it. "This is exactly the kind of thing I need to know about. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Iris."


    The sincerity in his voice makes me pause. It''s easy to forget sometimes that Arthur isn''t just my mate and Miles'' father-he''s the leader of our country, responsible for protecting all of its citizens, human and werewolf alike. ¡°I''ll keep digging on my end," I offer. "Maybe there''s something in the public records that could help." "Okay, but be careful. If someone is embezzling government funds, they won''t appreciate being exposed. "I will be," I promise. "Actually, can we meet for dinner tonight? I want to discuss this more, and... there''s something else I want to talk about too."


    "Of course. Pick you and Miles up at seven?"


    "Perfect."


    When Arthur picks us upter, I expect to go to a restaurant for dinner. But I''m pleasantly surprised when we get in the car and the smell of takeout food hits me.


    "I thought you might be tired after your interviews," Arthur exins when I raise an eyebrow at the takeout bags. "Plus, it''s nice out. We can have a pic in the park."


    We arrive at the park not long after, just the one that''s right next to Arthur''s apartment. Miles runs off to y first before dinner, and Arthur and Iy out a nket on the grass beneath the shade of arge tree and dig in while we watch Miles hang upside down from the monkey bars."


    25


    "So, you mentioned there was something else you wanted to discuss?" Arthur asks.


    I take a deep breath. "Yeah. So, my residency ends in three days."


    "I know," he says, twirling his noodles around his fork.


    "And I''ve been thinking... it doesn''t make sense for Miles and me to keep living separately from you. Not anymore."


    Arthur''s eyes widen slightly. "Are you saying...?¡±


    I''m saying I''m ready to move back in with you," I say firmly. "If the offer still stands."


    "If it still-Iris, of course it stands!" He stands so quickly he nearly knocks over our food. Before I can react, he''s pulling my container from my hands, hauling me to my feet and into his arms. "Yes. Absolutely yes."


    Before I can respond, he lifts me off my feet in a bear hug, spinning me around until I''mughing and dizzy.


    "Put me down, you lunatic!"


    He obliges, but keeps his arms around me, beaming like I''ve just given him the moon. "When? How soon can you move in?"


    "I was thinking a week after the exhibition," I reply. "That gives me a few days to pack up the apartment and get everything situated."


    Arthur''s face is split into a wide grin. As we settle back down, discussing the logistics-and, of course, filling in Miles, who quite literally leaps into the air with a wild "Woohoo!"-I can''t help but grin, too.


    This feels... right. I''m ready. Ready to move back in with my mate after five-plus years apart.


    Ready for a fresh start.


    Later,ying in my bed, I''m too excited to sleep-so, as one does, I''m scrolling on my phone. Halfway down the page, my eyes catch an article with mine and Arthur''s name on it.


    I should probably know better by now, but I click the link anyway, and my jaw drops when it loads.


    There, on the homepage of Ordan''s most popr gossip site, is a photo of Arthur and me from earlier. He''s lifting me off the ground, spinning me around, both of usughing, clearly caught in a moment of pure joy.


    The headline reads: "WEDDING BELLS? Alpha President and Luna Sparking Engagement Rumors."


    I can''t help but blush.


    11


    An engagement-now that is a dream I let go of many years ago.


    Buttely, my dreams seem to being true one after the other, don''t they?


    ¥¹

 Chapter 258

    Iris


    space is


    I take a deep breath, fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve as I stand just outside the gallery doors. The already packed with people-way more than I expected. Through the ss, I can see photographers, journalists, and what looks like at least a hundred guests milling about with champagne flutes in hand.


    "You okay?" Arthur asks, his handing to rest on the small of my back.


    "There are so many people," I whisper, and a knot forms in my stomach just from saying it out loud. "I thought it would just be the usual art crowd, maybe a few extra because of... well, us."


    Arthur grimaces apologetically. "I may have underestimated the media interest. Your debut made quite an impression."


    I''m not sure if that''s a good thing or not. I want my art to be appreciated for what it is, not because I happen to be mated to the Alpha President and am apparently a long-lost Willford heiress.


    "They''re here to see your work," Arthur reassures me, as if reading my thoughts. "The buzz might get them in the door, but your talent will keep them here."


    I nod, trying to believe him. My final piece is positioned at the far end of the gallery, impossible to miss. Around it are arranged my other works from the residency, a collection that traces my artistic evolution over the past year. Looking at them all together, I can see how much I''ve grown, how my style has solidified while remaining distinctly mine.


    The moment Arthur and I enter the space, dozens of cameras go off all around us. My name is called from all different directions, and I ster on the smile I''ve been practicing for asions like this.


    "Miss Willford, how does it feel to have your first major exhibition?"


    "Iris, over here! Look this way!"


    "Alpha President, are you proud of your mate''s aplishments?"


    Arthur handles the press with ease, answering a few questions concisely while gradually moving us deeper into the gallery, using his authoritative presence to make the crowd move for us. I stick close to him, although I have to admit, these sorts of things are bing a little less overwhelming these days. Emphasis on a little.


    "There you are!" A familiar voice cuts through the noise, and I turn to see my residency director from Abbott, hurrying toward us. "The critics are loving your work, especially the final piece."


    "Really?"


    "Yes, really," she confirms with a smile. "Nowe, there are some people I want you to meet."


    For the next hour, I''m introduced to gallery owners, critics and collectors. I try to focus on theirments about my technique, my use of color, mypositional choices anything that suggests they''re seeing me as an artist, not just as a political figure.


    Most of them seem genuine in their interest, asking questions that show they''ve actually looked at my work. But there''s always that undertone, that hint of curiosity about my personal life that has nothing to do with my art.


    I''m in the middle of exining my process to a well-known critic when I spot them over his shoulder-Arthur''s parents.


    I haven''t seen them since before my debut, and I''m not prepared for the way my stomach drops at the sight of them. Last I saw them, they were at my party. Arthur told me that he didn''t believe the kiwi incident was Intentional, but apparently they did say some... not so nice things about me the next day that I''d rather not think about.


    "Excuse me," I murmur to the critic before moving away.


    I make my way through the crowd to Arthur, who''s engaged in conversation with some city officials. He spots me approaching and immediately excuses himself.


    "Your parents are here," I say quietly.


    Arthur''s eyebrows shoot up. "Here? Now?"


    Before he can say more, his mother''s voice cuts through the noise. "Arthur! There you are, darling."


    We turn to face them, and I feel my stomach drop. It''s not because of their usual cold gazes-I''ve grown used to those, even expect them now-but the fact that those looks of disdain are... gone.


    "Mother, Father," Arthur greets them with a polite but curt nod. "I didn''t expect to see you here."


    "Well, we couldn''t miss our daughter-inw''s big night, could we?" his mother says with a wide smile that leaves me feeling unsettled. It''s like seeing a dog baring its teeth.


    ¡°Iris, darling.¡± His father turns to me with a simr look of affection that makes me sick. ¡°Congrattions on your exhibition. The gallery is packed."


    "Thank you," I reply tersely.


    "We''ve been looking at your work," his mother continues. "You''re quite talented, Iris. I particrly liked thatndscape with the misty mountains."


    I blink in surprise. She''s actually looking at my art? "That''s... thank you. It''s a view from one of the hikes we took on vacation."

 Chapter 259

    Lovely," she says. "We were thinking, actually, that we''d like to purchase one of your pieces. Something to disy prominently in the foyer of our home."


    For a moment, I''m too stunned to respond. These are the same people who once looked at me like I was something they''d scraped off their shoes. The same people who tried to separate Arthur and me, who tried to convince Arthur to take Miles away, who were embarrassed by my existence, who never showed the slightest interest in anything I did.


    And now, suddenly, they want to buy my art? To disy it prominently" in their home?


    The realization feels like a p to my face. They don''t care about my art. They care about who I am now-a Willford, a legitimate member of high society, someone who can now provide them with something they want.


    "I''ll... have to check which pieces are still avable," I manage to say.


    "Of course," Arthur''s father says. "Price is no object, naturally."


    I''m saved from having to respond by my residency director again, who approaches to inform me that it''s time for my speech. As I move toward the small podium at the front of the gallery, I take a few deep breaths topose myself again.


    Standing behind the podium, I look out at the sea of faces. Some I recognize- Alice and Hunter giving me thumbs up from the back, my parents and Caleb standing together near the wall, a few of the teachers I interviewed. Most are strangers, though.


    I pretend I don''t see Leonard and Wendy in the crowd.


    I clear my throat and begin the speech I''ve prepared, talking about my journey as an artist, the themes I explore in my work, and my new initiative to support arts education in underservedmunities. As I speak, I gain confidence, passionate about this cause that means so much to me.


    "Art saved me when I was a child with nothing," I tell the crowd. "It gave me a voice, a purpose, a way to process my experiences. Every child deserves that opportunity, regardless of their background or circumstances."


    I''m just getting to the part about my ns for the future when there''s a suddenmotion at the entrance. Cameras start shing even more frantically than before, and heads turn away from me, drawn to whatever-or whoever has just arrived.


    My heart sinks a little as I recognize the tall, slender form of Veronica gliding into the gallery. She''s stunning as always, dressed in a designer gown that hugs her curves deliciously. Her signature red lips curve into a gracious smile as she regards the photographers.


    vho just I force myself to continue speaking, but I can feel the attention dividing between me and the wor walked in. It''s not that Veronica is doing anything wrong- she''s just being Veronica, beautiful and charismatic and impossible to ignore.


    But in her presence, I can''t help feeling... lesser. in. Ordinary. All the insecurities I thought I''d left behinde rushing back. Next to her grace and poise, I feel like an awkward imposter.


    I finish my speech to polite apuse, although I notice several people aren''t even listening anymore, too busy trying to get closer to Veronica. As I step down from the podium, Arthur is immediately at my side.


    "You were amazing," he says with a warm kiss on my cheek. "Your speech was perfect."


    By the time the exhibition officially ends, I''m exhausted but satisfied. Despite the unexpectedpetition for attention, my art was well-received, and several pieces have sold.


    Most importantly, I''ve made connections with people who are interested in supporting my arts education initiative. I intend to donate everything I''ve earned tonight to the Eastside Elementary school, although I''m a little worried that the funds might not be used for the art program.


    As thest of the guests trickle out and the gallery staff begin to clean up, Arthur pulls me aside.


    "I know you''re tired," he says, "but the night''s not over ye."


    I tilt my head, a smile curving my lips. "Oh? Have more ns for me, Mr. President?"


    Arthur smirks at my innuendo, but shakes his head as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me away. "Not like that," he says. "Not yet, anyway.''


    He leads me outside, where a sleek ck town car is waiting for us. "I just so happened to rent out Skyline, that restaurant overlooking the city, for us," he says as the driver opens the back door.


    I shoot Arthur a confused look as we both slide into the backseat. "Skyline?"


    Arthur nods. "We have to send off your big residency with an afterparty, don''t we?"


    Iris

 Chapter 260

    Iris


    The Skyline restaurant is located on the top floor of one of Ordan''s tallest buildings, thus offering a panoramic view of the city lights below. From here, I can see the entire city stretched out below me-the dense clusters of buildings in the center city, the streetcar wending its way through the avenues, the bridge that takes us up toward the northern territories, and finally the bay that separates Ordan and Bo''Arrocan.


    As for the restaurant itself, Arthur clearly wasted no expense on decor. Skyline is already the fanciest restaurant in town, but the space has been transformed for the party. Candles flicker on the white tablecloths, crystals dangle from the ceilings, and an ornate balloon arch leads us into the main space.


    But what takes my breath away isn''t the decor or the view it''s the people. As soon as Arthur and I walk in, a chorus of cheers erupts. Everyone I love is here: Alice and Hunter standing near the bar, Brian and Liam waving enthusiastically from a table near the windows, and even my parents and Caleb are here.


    "Surprise," Arthur whispers in my ear. His breath tickles my neck. "I thought you deserved a proper celebration."


    "You did all this?" I ask, ncing up at him with wide eyes. "When did you even have time?"


    He shrugs, looking very much pleased with himself. "I have people for that. I just made a few calls." "Show-off," I tease, but I''m smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. It''s a really sweet gesture-the perfect thing to send off my residency and open up the next chapter of my life. I''m no longer Iris the struggling artist, but a wealthy heiress and the future Luna of Ordan.


    Although, I push away thoughts of my next moves for now. I don''t want to think about charity initiatives and wha to do with my newfound tform. I''m just excited to see my friends and eat some good food.


    Alice rushes over first, pulling me into a tight hug. "You were amazing tonight! I''m so proud of you!"


    Hunter follows behind. "The artwork was impressive. I especially liked the horseback piece. What was hiding behind that tree branch in the foreground?"


    I blush and nce at Arthur again, who winks at me. "Our little secret," I say


    cryptically, eliciting matching eye- rolls from Hunter and Alice. "Thank you both foring."


    "Wouldn''t have missed it," Alice assures me. "Plus, there''s an open bar." She winks and holds up her cocktail.


    Before I can respond, I''m swept away by more friends wanting to congratte me. It''s overwhelming in the best possible way. My parents approach next, my mother looking stunning in a silver cocktail dress while my father i as handsome and imposing as ever in a tailored suit.


    "Congrattions, Iris," my father says, leaning down to brush a warm kiss to my cheek. "The exhibition was excellent."


    "Your final piece was breathtaking," my mother adds. "And your speech about arts education- three people approach me about contributing to your cause."


    already had


    "Really?" My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "That''s... that''s amazing." I''m not sure if I''ll ever get used to peop actually wanting to support me without even speaking to me personally first. Maybe I don''t want to get used to i As the night progresses, the party falls into afortable rhythm. There''s a small band ying soft jazz, and couples begin to gravitate toward the dance floor. Arthur finds me after I''ve made my rounds, extending his han with a small bow.


    "May I have this dance, Lady Willford?"


    I roll my eyes but take his hand, letting him lead me to the center of the floor. Our weeks of dance lessons immediately snap into ce as we begin to move, but it''s more rxed now. I don''t have to worry about Impressing people; rather, I can simply rest my head on my mate''s chest, enjoying the gentle sway.


    "Are you having a good time?" he asks, his lips brushing the top of my head.


    "The best," I admit. "Thank you for doing this."


    "You deserve it. Your exhibition was incredible, Iris. Everyone was talking about your work-the actual work, not just who you are."


    I wish that were true, but I know it''s not. Not really. I think that is one thing I''ll have


    to get used to, and I''ll have to make the best of it. Whether I like it or not, I''m essentially a celebrity now. But at least I can take the attention and spin it in a positive way. Hopefully my momentum follows me through my charity initiatives and beyond.

 Chapter 261

    Arthur and I quietly dance through several songs, lost in our own little bubble despite the crowd around us. We don''t talk much, but we don''t need to. I''m just d to be here, listening to my mate''s heartbeat in tandem with the music.


    Together. In public. No longer hiding.


    It''s still so... surreal.


    Eventually, though, I''m pulled back to reality by Brian and Liam, who insist on stealing me away. Arthur relinquishes me with mock reluctance, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before heading to the bar.


    Brian immediately pulls me into an enthusiastic hug once Arthur is out of earshot. "Look at you, Miss Famous Artist! Next thing you know, you''ll be too important to hang out with us nobodies."


    I roll my eyes. "As if. You''re still the ones who helped me get back on my feet when I had nothing. You''re stuck with me."


    Liamughs, but there''s something thoughtful in his eyes as they follow Arthur''s retreating form. "So, what''s next for you two? Now that the residency is over and all..."


    "I''m moving back in with him," I say, feeling a flutter in my stomach at saying it out loud. "Next week, actually."


    "That''s huge!" Brian exims. "And then what? Wedding bells in the future?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.


    I feel my cheeks heat up. "Goddess, not you too. I saw that ridiculous article with the picture of us at the park."


    "It wasn''t ridiculous," Liam argues. "It was sweet. And you didn''t answer the question."


    The thought of getting engaged to Arthur makes my heart pound excitedly, but I''m not ready to admit that out loud-especially not when the media is already running wild with spection.


    "We''re taking things slow," I insist. "We haven''t even moved back in together yet! Let''s not get ahead of ourselves."


    Brian gives me a look that says he doesn''t believe me for a second. ¡°Uh-huh. Sure. Taking it slow. That''s why you two can''t keep your eyes off each other for more than five minutes, darling."


    "Shut up," I mutter, but there''s no heat behind the words.


    "Whatever happens," Brian goes on, "just stay true to your heart, okay? Don''t let the politics or the pressure or any of that noise dictate what you do."


    His husband nods in agreement. "Exactly. And for what it''s worth, Arthur seems... different now. Better."


    father and "He... is," I say softly, ncing across the room to where Arthur is engaged in conversation wit! some city officials. Even from here, I can see the ease in his posture, the genuine smile on his face. So much unlike the perfect, polished President on posters and magazine covers, and yet somehow better.


    "Fate brought you two back together for a reason," Brian says firmly. "He''s put in the work to right his wrongs. I never thought I would say this, but... I''m d you gave him another chance."


    I almost want to pine over the fact that I spent five years separated from him, but looking at him now, I feel as though the years weren''t wasted. They were necessary¨Cfor both of us to grow, to learn, to be the people we needed to be. Now that we''re back together, we can happily grow and change together in a positive way. Not just for ourselves, but for Miles, too.


    I''m about to say something else when something behind them catches my attention. There''s a stir near the stage, and I spot Veronica making her way through the crowd. She''s changed from her exhibition outfit into something even more stunning-a shimmering red gown that seems to capture and reflect every light in the room.


    Veronica approaches the stage, ascending the small set of steps. The crowd''s chatter begins to die down as people notice her, and even the band falls silent.


    Veronica takes a seat at the grand piano, adjusting the microphone that''s been set up beside it.


    "Good evening," she says, her white teeth glinting in the low light. Her eyes meet mine, and there''s a shimmer in them that makes my heart lurch ufortably, although I''m not sure why. "In honor of Lady Willford''s sess, I''m going to y a song."

 Chapter 262

    Tris


    The entire restaurant seems to hold its breath as Veronica ys. Even the waitstaff have paused, trays bnced on their palms, just to listen.


    It''s beautiful. Haunting and melodic, like a beautiful voice on the wind. I''ve always known Veronica''s music, have even attended some of her shows, but hearing her up close like this...


    It''s unlike anything I''ve heard before.


    So why is it making me uneasy?


    I nce around the room, noting the rapt expressions on everyone''s faces. Not a single soul in the room is looking away from her. It''s just like the exhibition all over again.


    I hate that I''m thinking it, but... this party-my party, meant to celebrate my exhibition, my residency, my aplishments-now revolves around Veronica. Again.


    A twinge of something ufortable stirs in my chest. It''s not quite jealousy... or at least, I don''t want to admit that it might be. It''s moreplex than that. Part of me is just as starstruck as everyone else-Veronica is undeniably talented.


    But another part can''t help but notice how easily shemands attention, how quickly the focus shifts to her whenever she enters a room.


    Can it really be coincidental, the way she always seems to find a way to steal the spotlight? Or am I just being a paranoid, jealous wreck?


    I immediately curse myself inwardly. I''m being ridiculous, and I don''t like this envious side of myself. I should be lifting other women up, celebrating them, not feeling angry. And she''s ying for me... Right?


    When the final notes fade into silence, the room immediately erupts into apuse. Veronica stands, taking a bow, her red dress catching the light as she moves. Her smile is radiant and genuine as she acknowledges the praise.


    The band strikes up again afterward, but the spell isn''t quite broken. Conversations throughout the room now center on Veronica''s performance.


    "That was incredible," Brian says beside me, still pping "I knew she was a prodigy, but that..."


    "Was unreal," Liam finishes. He''s got tears in his eyes.


    Tears.


    "Yeah," I admit, forcing a smile. "She''s amazing."


    I excuse myself to get a drink, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. At the


    bar, I order a g.. and tonic, needing something strong. I''m being ridiculous. It''s not


    apetition. I should be happy that my guests are enjoying themselves, and that another woman is sessful What the hell is wrong with me?


    "Iris.


    I turn to find Veronica beside me, her perfectly manicured hand reaching for a ss of champagne from a passin waiter. Up close, her beauty tonight is even more intimidating-wless skin, impossibly longshes, her lips painted the exact shade of red as her dress.


    "That was beautiful," I say with a small smile. "Thank you for ying tonight. Everyone loved it."


    "Thank you." Her smile widens. "I hope you don''t mind that Imandeered


    the no for a moment. I wanted to offer a tribute to your sess."


    ¡õ¡õ


    "Of course not. It was a lovely surprise."


    Her eyes meet mine, and there''s something in them that makes me uneasy-a predatory glint that contrasts with her serene smile. But I blink, and it''s gone. I must have imagined it, right? It must just be another side effect of my jealousy, and I quickly squash it, not wanting to feed into the stereotype of a woman who can''t stand another woman''s sess.


    Veronica clears her throat. "I''m d you enjoyed it. Tell me what are your ns now that your residency is over?"


    I take a sip of my drink before answering. "I''m focusing on the arts education initiative for now, and of course, moving back in with Arthur and Miles next week."


    "Hmm.¡± She twirls the stem of her champagne ss between her fingers. "That''s a good start, but you''ll need to do more. You must maintain momentum, Iris, otherwise people are going to grow bored of you."


    Her words catch me off guard. "What do you mean?"


    19


    "The public is fickle," she exins. "Today they adore you tomorrow they''re on to the next shiny thing. For all you know, they might find another woman to try and inject into your rtionship."


    My stomach tightens. "I''m not sure what you''re getting at


    "I''m just saying that the narrative around the Alpha President and his Luna needs to stay interesting, fresh," she says, her red lips curving slightly. "The star-crossed lovers reunited ispelling now, but what happens when that story gets old? People will start to wonder if there might be a better match out there for him.¡±


    Each word feels like a tiny dart in my chest, as if she''s intentionally aiming for the one thing that hurts the most.


    I try to maintain a neutral expression, but inside, I''m reeling. The thought of Arthur being paired with another woman in the public eye-of having to watch from the sidelines as someone else stands by his side again-is unbearable. Not after I spent five years missing him, heartbroken and lonely.

 Chapter 263

    Chapter 203 Chapter 263


    Think Arthur and bare doing just fine," I manage to say, even in maging a small smile. "But thanks for your concem.


    Veronicaughs lightly. "I hope that didn''te across the wrong way. I just worry about you, cousin, and I''ve been in the spotlight long enough to know how the publle works." she touches my arm briefly. "Please, enjoy your party, Iris. You''ve


    And with that, she glides away, leaving me with the lingering scent of her expensive perfume and a knot in my stomach. I watch her move through the crowd, stopping to chat with various guests herugliter floating above the music.


    "You okay?" Arthur appeat at my side so suddenly it thakes in jus, "You look upset,"


    Itorce my mouth into a sunile. "I''m fine. Just a little overwhelmed by everything


    He studies me for a moment, clearly not convinced, but nods. "Let me low if you need to step outside for some air."


    "I will"


    I refuse to let Veronica''s words ruin my night. This is my celebration, and I''m determined to enjoy it. So I put herments to the back of my mind and focus on being present, on dancing with Arthur,ughing with my friends, enjoying the exquisite food and thepany of people I love.


    o home,


    leaving


    And for the most part, it works. The rest of the evening passes in a blur. By the time the main bulk of the guests gol Arthur, myself, and our closer friends, the party even turns into a rot ofughter and drinking.


    apy. Whatever weird, unsettling interaction


    By the time we head home in the early hours of the morning. I''m exhausted but happy. had with Veronica feels distant and very much unimportant.


    The next morning, I wake to Miles jumping on my bed, excited about the move. "Are we going to Daddy''s house today?"


    "Not today, buddy." I wrap my arms around him and pull him close as if to cuddle, but really I''m just hungover and his bouncing is making me nauseous. "We''ve still got a lot of packing to do first


    He pouts momentarily but quickly rebounds. "Do I have to pack my toys?"


    t yet," Iugh, ruffling his hair. "We''ll save those forst."


    "Not y


    After running out for breakfast-I need something greasy to nurse my hangover, and I want to treat Miles and Emi-we spend the morning sorting through clothes and books. It''s a good distraction, and soon, I forget aboutst night''s difort entirely.


    Around lunchtime, while Miles is talking a break to watch cartoons, I open myptop to check emails. Anotification pops up from one of the major news sites, and I click on it without thinking


    My heart sinks as I read the headline: "VERONICA STEALS THE SHOW, TWICE! Pianist Outshines Lama at Her Own Exhibition.


    Then at Afterparty."


    Below the headline is a split image: on one side, Veronica at the piano, looking ethereal; on the other, me watching her, my expression caught in what appears to be a grimace. I don''t even remember making that face, but the camera caught me


    at the perfect moment to make it look like I was seething with jealousy.


    The article goes on to detail Veronica''s "surprise heartfelt tribute"at my party, describing her performance as "moving" and "


    "There''s only a brief mention of my exhibition, reduced to a single sentence that just outlines the way everyone rushed to see Veronica when she entered and has nothing to do with my art.


    But it''s thements section that really twists the life. As I scroll, I readment afterment questioning why A would choose me over someone like Veronica. "She''s gorgeous AND talented!" one reads. "What does triseven bring table?"


    Another: "Iris was a nobody before her family debuted her, and heart is subpar. Veronica would make a much better Luna She''s got ss, REAL talent, and beauty. Iris just looks bitter and jealous all the time."


    And finally, like a punch to the gut: "Iris is probably just jealous because she''s got


    a mom hod at 26 and Veronica is two years older and STILL looks better!"


    My eyes fit down to my belly-the same belly that Arthur kissed all over, every stretch mark, every bit of loose skin from carrying our child.


    Is it... really that noticeable?


    Even though I know I shouldn''t, I scroll down further and see that my approval ratings have already taken a hit overnight, dropping several points. A poll asks readers who they think would make a better Luna for Arthur.


    Veronica is winning by andslide.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 264

    I shut myptop with more force than I should.


    No. I refuse to give thosements another second of my attention. So what if the public thinks Veronica would make a better Lima? Arthur doesn''t think that. Leertainly don''t. And that''s what matters.


    Moving day arrives before I know it. Once all of Miles and my belongings are packed, it finally hits me. We''re doing this. We''re finally going to live the life I always dreamed of-the three of us together, as a family, sharing the home that Arthur and I once adored.


    It feels unreal, but it''s not. It''s very much a reality now.


    The one thing I''m bringing that requires special handling is my exhibition centerpiece-the painting of our family on horseback. Thad it carefully wrapped and delivered to Arthur''s apartment this morning, nning to surprise him with it when


    we arrive


    Is tint everything?" I ask Miles, who has insisted on keeping several of his toys unpacked and clutched to his chest, "just in case they get scared in the box". I don''t have the energy to insist that he''s more likely to lose his prized possessions if he doesn''t pack them up..


    The drive to Arthur''s-our-ce is short and familiar, and yet my stomach has butterflies the whole way. It''s silly, really. I


    I''ve


    stayed over dozens of times in the past few months, used to live here, but this is different. This is permanent. This ising


    home.


    Arthur and Cliff meet us in the lobby, both grinning from ear to ear Arthur scoops Miles up in one arm and grabs a box with the other. "Wee home," Cliff says, hugging me tightly, and I can''t help but smile.


    We take the elevator up to the penthouse, and as the doors slide open, I''m greeted by the sight of our painting, already unwrapped and leaning against the wall opposite the door.


    "Oh," I say, suddenly nervous. "You weren''t supposed to see that t."


    Arthur sets Miles down and turns to me. "Is this for me?"


    I nod. ¡°For us, really. For our home."


    ''s your centerplece. Your best work. I thought you were going to sell it."


    "Well, I''d rather give it to you, I say simply.


    Arthur steps closer to the painting, studying the details. "I can''t believe you''re giving this to me. It''s... it''s incredible, tris."


    "Well, I thought your office needed something nice. To distract from your ugly face," I tease, really more in an attempt to keep myself from crying than anything else.


    Heughs and shakes his head. "Well, then it''s perfect for that purpose. I''ll hang it tomorrow."


    "You don''t have to-


    "It''s going in my office," he says firmly. "Where everyone whoes to see the Alpha President can also see the most important thing in my life-my family."


    The word "family" makes my chest constrict almost painfully. How many times did I dream of this over the years? Of being a real family with Arthur and Miles? And now here we are.


    Miles, oblivious to the emotional moment between his parents, tugs on Arthur''s pant leg. "Daddy, can you help me unpack my toys?


    Arthur chuckles, rattling Miles'' hair. "Of course, buddy. Let''s get started. Chapter 264


    we


    spend the rest of the afterisoon unpacking, not that there''s much to unpack. Since the residency apartment was furnished and we moved so much over the past nine months, it''s not like wo bad much left other than our most prized possessions. For Mily, it''s his toys. For me, it''s my art supplies. I feel overwhelmed with excitement and emotion as I carefully arrange Miley


    erything in my old studio, already imagining what I''ll get started on tomorrow,


    By evening, we''re exhausted but satisfied. The apartment already feels different- warmner, somehow, with touches of my life and Miles''s integrated into the space. Or maybe it just feels different because I know it''s permanent this time, not just a temporary living arrangement.


    "What do you want for dinner?"


    er?" Arthur asks as we copse onto the couch. "We could order in."


    "Can we have pizza?" Miles pipes up immediately.


    1ugh. "Pizza sounds perfect."


    While we wait for the delivery, Arthur disappears into his bedroom and returns wearing a protesque monster mask. Miles shrieks with delight and takes off running, Arthur hambering after him, growling, with his arms outstretched.


    is voice muffled behind the mask. "I''m gonna eat you up!


    "I''m gonna get you!" Arthur growls, his


    Miles''s giggles echo through the apartment as he darts around the furniture, asionally hiding behind me for protection. "Save me, Mommy!" he squeals, clutching at my legs.


    I press a hand to my chest, feigning terror. "Oh no! A monster! What ever shall we do?"


    Arthur approaches slowly, still growling, and I grab a throw pillow from the couch, brandishing It like a weapon. "Back, foul beast! You can''t have my son!"


    This sends Miles into another fit of giggles, and soon all three of us are engaged in a pillow fight, chasing each other around the living room. By the time the pizza arrives, we''re all breathless and aughing

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    Webut on the floor, pic-style, in front of the TV. Miles choses movie some animated film about talking animals-and we settle in for a cozy family night. -


    It''s such a simple thing-pizza, a movie, sitting together on the or-but it feels perfect. Complete. As if all the scattered pieces of my lille have finally clicked into ce.


    After pizza and during a ball in the movie, Arthur turns to me. "Olt, meant to ask-ve you thought about schools for Miles? He should be starting kindergarten soon, right?"


    Inod, ncing at Miles who''spletely absorbed in the movie.''ve been looking into options. There''s a good public school not far from here, but"


    "But?" Arthur prompts.


    I hesitate ¡°There''s also Wellington Academy. It''s private, and expensive, but their arts program is amazing."


    I''m worried Arthur might think I''m being elitist or that I''m trying to spend his money, but if I''m being honest, the things I learned about the fading arts programs in Ordan and the misallocation of funds is worrisome. Maybe it''s hypocritical of me, wanting to enroll my son in a school that doesn''t have those issues while simultaneously lobbying for improving conditions in public schools, but I just want the best for him. And we can afford


    To my relief, Arthur nods enthusiastically. "Wellington is great. I''ve heard nothing but good things. And it''s close by, which is a -bonus."


    "You don''t think it''s too... I don''t know, privileged?"


    Arthur considers this. "I think what matters is the quality of education and whether it suits Miles'' needs. And from my research, Wellington has an excellent program


    for children on the spectrum. I think he would thrive there."


    I bite my lip. "I want that for him, I murmur. "Plus, it''s within walking distance, so as he gets older he can walk to school himself "


    "Let''s schedule a tour," Arthur says simply.


    I nod. A tours sounds good. And even though it feels a bit... wrong to enroll my son in such a prestigious school knowing what the conditions in poorer districts are like, I still want the best for him.''s a tricky situation, and I''m not sure if there''s a "right" decision


    After the movie ends, Miles is yawning but fighting sleep. "I''m not tired," he insists, even as his eyelids droop.


    "Time for bed, little man," Arthur says, scooping him up. "You''ve had a big day."


    I follow them to Miles''s new room, watching as Arthur tucks him is, pulling the


    covers up to his chin. "Goodnight, buddy. Sweet dreams.''


    "Night, Daddy," Miles mumbles, already half asleep. "Night, Moreny."


    I lean down to kiss his forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart. We''ll see you in the moming"


    We leave his door cracked, a night light casting a soft glow in the corner. In the hallway, Arthur pulls me into a hug, his chin resting on top of my head. "Happy?" he asks.


    ''So happy I could burst," I admit. "This is all I''ve wanted for so long. Us, together. A real family."


    He pulls back to look at me, and I''m stricken by how serious his expression is as he murmurs, "1 Iris. I need you to know that."


    "Good," I say, "because I''m not going anywhere"


    ver letting you go again,


    We end up back in the living room, where Arthur puts on a record on low volume. He extends his hand to me. "Dance with me?" Trase an eyebrow. "Haven''t had enough dancingtely?"


    "Never enough." He pulls me to my feet before I can fight it, not that I would anyway. One hand finds my waist, the other sps mine. I tilt my head back and trace the subtle curls in the hair at the nape of his neck with my forefinger as we begin to sway.


    It reminds me of all those years ago, dancing in this very spot, happy and in love and unaware of the challenges ahead.


    But we''re different now. Stronger. We''ve weathered the storm and found our way back to each other. And as Arthur holds me close, humming softly in my ear, I can''t help but think that maybe he journey was necessary. Maybe we needed that time apart to truly appreciate what we have noWWW.


    What are you thinking about?" Arthur munurs, his breath war against my hair.


    "How lucky I am," I reply softly. "How it feels like everything in my life was leading to this moment, even the hard parts."


    He pulls back slightly to look at me, his eyes so tender it nearly makes me burst into tears. "I think about that too. How every choice, every mistake, somehow led us back to each other."


    There''s so much I want to say, but words seem inadequate. Instead, I take his hand and lead him toward our bedroom, leaving the music ying softly behind


    us.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 266

    ris


    "Bith?" Arthur suppests once we''re alone in his mir


    Inod, and Arthur moves into the en-suite bathroom. A momentter, I hear the w


    water running an he fills the oversized tub


    When I follow him, he''s adding bath oil to the steaming water, the scent ofvender filling the air. He turns to me, his eyes darkening when he sees me standing there.


    "May 17" he asks, pointing my shirt.


    I lift my arms in answer, and he slowly pulls the fabric up and over my head before tossing it aside. His hands trace down my bare arms, raising goosebumps in their wake. I reach for the buttons at his shirt next, undoing them one by one, revealing his chest inch by inch.


    But as Arthur slowly undresses the, my mind wanders back to those awfulments I readst week. "Mom bod at 26". Is that how look? My stomach definitely isn''t as t as it was before MI, my lips wider, my breasts not quite as perky


    As if sensing my difort-maybe it''s because I''ve subconsciously wrapped my arms around my midriff -Arthur drops to his knees in front of me, his hands spanning any waist. He leans forward and presses his lips to my stomach, just above my navel where the skin is softest, marked with faint silver stretch marks from carrying Miles


    Ishiver lightly as his lips trail lower, to the curve of my hip. Then lower still, toward the apex of my thighs. Arthur''s fingers gently dip into the flesh of my thighs, massaging lightly first in the center, then moving around to my ass. I can''t help the soft moan that escapes me as he cups my there, gently probing with his fingers.


    His touch instantly melts away my insecurities. How can I feel anything but beautiful when he looks at me like that? When he touches me like he''s touching me right now?


    I tug him back to his feet, my hands working at his belt buckle. "The water''s going to get cold," I whisper, although that''s not really my concem. I just need him. Now.


    We finish undressing each other, my pants and his joining the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor. When we''re fully nude, he steps into the tub first, testing the temperature, their offers his hand to help me in.


    we''re both


    The water is perfect-hot but not scalding, scented withvender and patchouli. When 1 sink down into it, my sore muscles from moving are quickly soothed,


    We sit facing each other, legs intertwined, the waterpping at our chests. For a while, we just soak, enjoying the warmth and each other''s presence. Arthur reaches for a washcloth, soaps it up, and begins gently washing my shoulders, my arms, my back. I shut my eyes and tilt my head back against the porcin, just enjoying the sensations.


    Once he''s finished, I take the cloth from him and return the favor, running it over his broad chest, his shoulders, the strong column of his neck. As my hands move lower, beneath the water, Arthur''s breathing grows heavier. His eyes, fixed on mine now, darken further. Llet the washcloth drift away, forgotten, as my fingers find his cock under the water, already hard and waiting


    "Iris," he groans as I stroke him slowly, teasingly.


    I smirk, enjoying the power 1 have in this moment as I swirl my index finger around the head of his member. It throbs lightly as if reaching for my palm. "Yes, Arthur?"


    He doesn''t respond with words. Instead, his hands find my waist, and he lifts me effortlessly, pulling me onto hisp so that I''m straddling him. The position brings the tip of his cock right against my entrance, and I gasp at the contact.


    "Is this what you want?" he murmurs, his lips against my neck.


    "Yes," 1 breathe, rolling my hips to create more friction. "Please, Arthur."


    He guides me down onto him slowly, both of us moaning as he fillsmepletely. Water sloshes over the sides of the tubas T


    12


    begin to move, rising and falling on his length. His hands grip mypping to ide my moments, while both fits my bront, fongim cirting my nipple.


    ¡°?


    mp as he hits a particrly sensitive spot inside of me Right there


    He responds by anghing his hips to hit that same spot again and an, driving me closer to the edge with each that. One of his hands slides between us, his thumb finding my clit and ning ight circles


    The dual stimtion is overwhelming I feel my organ belding rapidly, like a tightening in my low belly, or perhaps like a nubber band about to snap Artbur minst sense how close tam becabe he increases the pressure on my clit, his other hand puiding my hips in a faster rhythm.


    "Come for me, Iris," hemands.


    As if his words have a magicmand in them, 1 obey immediately The tension pulls taut, then instantly breaks, and the pleasure is so profound that I can''t control myself. Tryout his name, voice echoing off the tiles, my back arching, my body clenching around his cock as I ride out the orgasm.


    Before I''ve evene down from the high, Arthur is standing and lifting me with him. Water cascades off our bodies as he steps out of the tub, somehow managing to keep me impaled on his length the entire time. He sits me on the edge of the vanity, and I yelp slightly at the sudden cold of the marble against my backside


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 267

    "Afin," he growls, thrusting to me with renewed vigor. The Waist, pulling him even closer.


    The position allows him to go deeper, and wrap my legs around his


    My hands clutch at his shoulders, nails dipping into his skin as he pounds into me. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body, quickly building toward another peak. Arthur''s


    venients grow more erratic, a sign that he''s getting close


    "Fuck, Iris, you feel so good," he pants against my neck. "Sotight wet for me."


    His words send another jolt of arousal rough me. I love when he lks like this-raw, unfiltered, saying exactly what he''s thinking. It makes me feel desired, even powerful in a strange sort of way.


    "I want to feel youe again," he continues, his breath hot agad my ear. "Come on my cock, Iris. Let me feel you,"


    His thumb finds my clit again, rubbing in light circles that match the rhythm of his thrusts. The other hand cornes around to gently stroke across my backside, thumb gently pressing against my darkest hole-just enough to make re gasp and tighten with pleasure.


    Thebination is too much. I feel myself tightening around him again, my second orgasm crashing over me with even more intensity than the first.


    "Arthur!" I cry out as my body shudders. "What was


    Before I can finish, he grins impishly and lifts his hand-the one that was stroking my clit-and slips his thumb into my mouth. Gasping, I swirl my tongue around the tip, tasting myself as my eyes lock onto his. He groans, his thrusts bing desperate and uncoordinated as he watches me taste the evidence of my own pleasure.


    "Inside," I gasp around his finger. "I want to feel you"


    That''s all the permission he needs. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside of me andes with a guttural growl that might be my name, although I''m not entirely sure. I feel him pulsing, shuddering, and then finally going still


    We stay like that for some time, still joined, forebeads pressed together, both trying to catch our breath before we attempt to nove. The bathroom floor is soaked, water everywhere from the b. It''s going to be quite the mess to clean up, but right now, 1 could honestly care less.


    Eventually, Arthur pulls back slightly. He presses a tender, open-mouthed kiss to my lips, then my neck, then my shoulder before he pulls out and helps me down from the vanity. We clean up quickly after that, both eager to get to bed. The tub is drained, towels are thrown on the floor to soak up the worst of the water, and fresh ones are used to dry ourselves off.


    By the time we copse into bed, my body feels pleasantly empty and light. Arthur pulls me close, my back to his chest, his arm tucked around my waist. His breathing evens out quickly, and I follow soon after.


    I''m back at my exhibition, but the gallery is empty except for me and Veronica She''s wearing that red gown, the one that caught the light so beautifully when she yed the piano.


    Except now, as she moves toward me, I notice something is... wrong. The hem of her dress is wet, dripping, with.....


    Blood..


    "Today they adore you, tomorrow they''re on to the next shiny thing." she whispers, circling me like a snake. The diamonds on her dress cut my skin, and I gasp, stumbling backwards-only to be shoved back toward her by invisible hands. Cameras sh around us, and she strikes a pose, then another. Elegant, Poised. Statuesque,


    "The star-crossed lovers reunited ispelling now," she murmurs, grabbing my hand, spinning me, then dipping me below her as the cameras sh. Her diamonds cut my wrists and palms,


    Before I can catch my breath, she pulls me upright. "But what happens when that story gets old? People will start to wonder if there might be a better match out there for him_"


    I shake my head as she forcefully spins me away. "No. No, that''s not


    Iris." Arthur''s voice this time, Low, husky mocking. He catches me mid-spin, and when I look up, he''s in a suit. What''s red like the blood pooling on the floor around my feet. The blood on Veronica''s dress. The blood seeping from the deep shes on my wrists and throat.


    Arthur shoves me away, right into the crowd. The invisible hands pull at me, down, down into the blood. It''s deep, deeper than 1 imagined an entire ocean of IL


    "No. No


    "Poor thing," Veronica cods. She''s not looking at me. She''s looking at him. They''re posing Cameras sh. A crowd roars. A no materializes behind them, and Arthur lifts her, cing her on the edge He shoves her dress up around her hips, revealing a serpent''s taillestead of legs


    Just as the bloodes up to my chin, he leans over her and whispers, mouth brushing hers, "They''ve already forgotten her " Thest thing I see before the blood engulfs mepletely is Veronica''s snakelike tongue slipping into my mate''s mouth.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 268

    +26 BONUS


    I holt upright, drenched in a cold sweat with a scream dying in my rat


    Veronica. A serpent''s tall. Invisible hands pulling me down into an cean of crimson blood


    I reach for Arthur beside me, but my hand finds only rumpled sheet, still warm from his body hear but empty. Panic res in my chest, made worse by my half- asleep and half-frantle state. Whereas he? Did he


    No. It was just a dream. Author would never


    Before I cane to my senses, I throw off the covers and grab mytube from the book on the bathroom door, cinching it tight around my waist as thurry out of the bedroom. The apartment is quiet except for the faint soundsing from the kitchen-the tter of dishes, Miles''s high-pitched giggles, and Arthur''s low voice.


    I follow the sounds, practically falling down the stairs in my haste the scene that greets me in the kitchen instantly melts away the lingering dread from my nightmare.


    Arthur is standing at the stove, flipping pancakes vaguely shaped like turtles and dinosaurs, while Miles sits at the ind counter, kicking his legs. Both of them are still in their pajamas-Arthur in just lounge pants, deliciously shirtless, Miles in his


    dinosaur PJ set.


    It''s such a simple, domestic scene, but it fills me with a warmth that chases away thest vestiges of my nightmare. This is real. This is my life now. And Veronica is hardly a part of it.


    Arthur nces up and spots me hovering in the doorway. His face immediately breaks into a smile. ¡°Morning, sleepyhead. Want some pancakes? We''ve got blueberry and chocte chip "


    "Blueberry, please," I say, moving into the kitchen. I drop a kiss on Miles''s head, then lean against Arthur''s side. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close for a quick kiss.


    "You okay?" he asks, studying my face. "You look a little pale, my love."


    I smile and shake my head. "I''m fine, just a bad dream.


    His brow furrows slightly, but he doesn''t press the issue. Instead, he flips another pancake onto the growing stack and hands me the te. "Breakfast is the best cure for bad dreams. That, and coffee." He nods toward the fresh pot on the counter.


    "Mommy, I got chocte chips in mine!" Miles announces proudly, showing me his te where he has absolutely drenched his pancakes in maple syrup.


    "I see that," Iugh as I pour myself a mug of coffer. "That''s a whole lot of syrup,


    little o


    wolf


    Miles seems unfazed by myment. Arthur just shrugs as if he''s tried to educate Miles on the proper amount of syrup to use already, but has given up.


    We eat together at the ind counter, Miles chattering nonstop about what he wants to do today, Arthur and 1 exchanging nces over his head. Soon, 1 forget my nightmare entirely.


    The next week settles into afortable rhythm. Arthur works during the day, although hees home for lunch when he can. Arthur and 1 schedule a tour at Wellington for next week.


    During that time, I do my best to ignore the asional online article or social media post about my supposed "tension" with Veronica. It''s frustrating how one captured expression-a momentary grimace I don''t even remember making-has created this whole narrative of jealousy and rivalry between us, even to the point where it affects my dreams.


    for a while. I delete


    After the third day of seeing my name trending alongside Veronicas, I decide to unplug from the inte the social media apps from my phone and ask Arthur not to share any news articles with me unless the absolutely necessary, and we both agree to keep the TV off for a while.


    Instead, I focus on what matters-creating new artwork, enjoying my life with Arthur and Miles, and nning for the future, Namely, I brainstorm Ideas for ny next steps as a socialite, artist, and future tama of Ordan. I want to use my tform for good, Justus my mom suggested, and I spend several nights staying upte and working on ideas.


    One evening, as Arthur and I are cleaning up after dinner, finally tell him about the idea that has been formting in my mind.


    "I want to start a fundraiser," Tamnounce.


    Arthur looks up from the sink. "For?"


    "Arts education in schools," I exin. "Icould use my tform as both an artist and." Thesitate, still not entirelyfortable with the term, "as Lima in raise awareness and funds. I was thinking of starting with a children''s day, with proceeds going to underfunded school art programs."

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    Auge''s Lace breaks into a wide smile. "That''s a brilliant


    "you think so?" Lask, biting my lip. "I just want to help schools as much as I can, especially now that Miles is enrolled at Wellington."


    "Eknow so,"


    ," he says firmly "Bat


    I think you should pitch it to my team. They can help with logistics, publicity, all of that


    1blink, taken aback. "Your team? As in, the presidential staff?"


    "Why not? This is the perfect sort of project for the Lima to be. I be good practice for when we get married and the PR team expects you to take on even thote. "


    My Lace instantly reddens at the mention of marriage. So does Arthur


    He quickly looks away, clearing his throat. "I mean..." He seems at a loss for words "Just put together a brief presentation. Consider it practice for the future."


    Team Thelpbut grin like an idiot at the back of his head. Marriage


    admit the thought has been working intway into my mind for awhile now, but hearing Arthur mention it just makes it feel all the more real


    For the next several days, I throw myself into research and nning Ipile statistics on arts education funding, draft proposals for how the fundraiser could work, and even create mockups for promotional materials. Since it will be my first project of this caliber, I want it to be perfect.


    But the more I work on it, the more I realize there are aspects of organizing arge-scale charity event that I know nothing about. How do you secure sponsors? What about tax implications for donors? How do you maximize media coverage without seeming self-promoting?


    Ineed advice from someone who''s done this before, someone who understands both the public rtions side and the practical logistics. My first thought is to ask my mother, but she and my father are out of town for the week, so I tum to Caleb. We meet at my favorite coffee shop one afternoon.


    "This is a great idea, Iris," Caleb says after I''ve outlined my n. "Focused, meaningful, and it ys to your strengths."


    "Thanks," I say with a small smile. "But I feel like I''m missing something. There''s


    so much I don''t know about organizing something like this,"


    Caleb taps his fingers against his coffee mug, thinking, "Have you considered asking Veronica for advice?"


    I nearly choke on mytte. "Veronica? Why would I ask her?"


    He tilts his head. "You don''t know? She runs the Ordan Public School Fund One of the biggest charity organizations in Ordan."


    "Didn''t know that," I mutter, suddenly feeling like a moron. I should have known. Veronica does everything. She''s fucking perfect. Why wouldn''t she also run one of the biggest charities in the country?


    Something must show on my face because Caleb sighs. "Look, I know there''s some... tension between you two-


    "There isn''t," Linterrupt quickly. "We''re fine. It''s just the media trying to create drama where there isn''t any.


    Caleb gives me a look that says he doesn''t entirely believe me, but he doesn''t press the issue. "Either way, she knows her stuff when ites to charity work. And she''s family, technically. I think she''d be willing to help if you asked "


    The thought of going to Veronica for advice makes my stomach twist ufortably. I know it''s not her, though, not really. It''s the idea of admitting that I need her help, that she knows something I don''t. That I''m... lesser.


    But as soon as I recognize that feeling, I''m ashamed of myself. Am I really so


    petty that I''d le of doing something good forchildren in need? Is my ego really that tragile?


    "You''re right," I finally admit. "She probably would have some valuable insights." anal difort get in the way


    "I can give you her address," Caleb offers, already pulling out his phone. "She''s actually in town right now, working on her next


    album."


    As Caleb texts me Veronica''s address, I mentally berate myself for feeling sopetitive with her. She''s just another woman making her way in the world, using her talents and tforin for good. My difort is my own shoring, not hers


    After finishing my coffee and saying goodbye to Caleb, I receive a xt from Arthur, "Ready for our tour of Wellington in an hour?"


    I respond quickly, excited to finally tour the school. Afterwards, I''ll visit Veronica

 Chapter 270

    Irish


    A little under an hourter, therge ck gates of Wellington Academy open to let us in. I can''t help but gasp softly as I look up at therge building. It really is beautiful-red brick with white trim,rge windows, a manicuredwn, and a big wrought iron. tence with manned gates so strangers can''t just walk onto the school grounds. Beautiful, intimidating, and most of all: safe.


    It looks exactly like what a prestigious private school should look like. But I can''t help but feel a little guilty.


    Is it hypocritical of me to be looking at private schools for Miles when I''m advocating for better public school funding?


    Before I can spiral further into that thought, the front doors swing open, and a woman in her fifties with silver-streaked dark hair steps out to greet us.


    "Mr. President, Ms. Willford," she says warmly, extending her hand. ¡°I''m Dr. Katherine Elliot, the principal of Wellington Academy. Please,e inside."


    Arthur shakes her hand first. "Thank you for meeting with us."


    She beams, shaking his hand, then shakes mine. "Thank you for considering our school. This is quite the honor


    After that, we get started on the tour, Dr. Elliot takes us through ssrooms designed for different age groups. The kindergarten rooms have reading nooks with plush pillows, art stations with every supply imaginable, and small tables perfectly sized for five-year-olds.


    The yground in particr, though, takes my breath away. There''s arge jungle gym that looks like a treehouse vige, a garden with all kinds of different nts, and several quiet areas with benches under shady trees.


    Arthur squeezes my hand as we look around, and I know he''s thinking the same thing I am-Miles would love this. Especially the garden and the jungle gym.


    Next, we''re taken to the music room, the library, and finally to a small office where a woman with curly red hair is waiting for us.


    "This is Dr. Reynolds, our neurodiversity program coordinator," Dr. Elliot introduces us


    Dr. Reynolds shakes our hands. "It''s a pleasure to meet you both understand you have a son on the spectrum?"


    "Yes," 1 reply, ncing at Arthur. "Miles is five, and he was diagnosed when he was a toddler. He''s high-functioning, but he has certain challenges with social cues and can get overwhelmed easily.


    Dr. Reynolds nods. "That''s verymon. At Wellington, we take an integrated approach. Neurodivergent children are in regr ssrooms, but we provide additional support tailored to their specific needs, so they can receive what they require without being isted from the other kids."


    I let out a breath I didn''t realize I''ve been holding. All I''ve ever wanted for Miles is to be epted, amodated, and not iste. So far, this ce is perfect. Almost too perfect to be true. I want to pinch myself.


    Over the next fifteen minutes, she pors on to exin their methodology in more detail-how they have sensory tools avable in every ssroom, how teachers are trained to recognize signs of everstimtion, how they have quiet rooms where kids can dpress if needed. It sounds wonderful, and exactly what Miles needs to thrive.


    After our meeting with Dr. Reynolds, we''re taken back to Dr. Elliot''s office to o discuss the enrollment process.


    "We would be honored to have Miles join us at Wellington," Dr. Flot says. "Based on what you''ve shared about him, I believe he would thrive here."


    1 nce at Arthur, and I can see my own thoughts reflected in his gees. This ce really is perfect. But I besitate, because of that damn guilt again


    "Dr. Elliot," I say carefully, "I have to ask... I''ve been working on initiatives to improve arts funding in public schools because! believe every child deserves ess to a quality education. But here am, considering sending my own son to a private school..


    Dr. Elliot''s expression softens as she realizes what I''m getting at. Miss Willford, if I may advocating for better public education and choosing what''s best for your individual child are not mutually exclusive actimis."


    e''s right, Iris," Arthur says softly. "We''re in a financial position where we can choose what''s best for Miles, but it doesn''t diminish your work to improve conditions for all children."

 Chapter 271

    hapter 271


    +25


    1 bife my lip, still uncertain.


    "I understand your concern," Dr. Elliot continues. ¡°But if it helps, many of our families sponsor schrships for children who couldn''t otherwise afford to attend Wellington "


    "Schrships?"


    The principal nods. "Yes. We reserve twenty percent of our enrollment for schrship students. Not all of our studentse from wealthy backgrounds. We have various schrships depending on grade level; both merit-based and need- based." This eases my guilt somewhat. A lot, actually Briefly, before signing anything, Arthur and I step outside to talk privately "What do you think?" he asks once we''re alone.


    "It''s amazing here," I admit quietly. "It''s everything I could want for Miles. But I''m worried about how it looks-me campaigning for public school arts funding while sending our son to a private school. What if he gets singled out because of


    me?"


    Arthur takes my hands in his. "I know it''s a difficult decision. We''re stuck between a rock and a hard ce here. The truth will eventuallye out, and yes, some people might be unhappy about it, especially with your recent focus on public schools"


    I sigh, staring at the ground. "I can handle the bacsh. I just don''t want my son to have to experience it."


    "Whether we want him to or not, he''ll experience the pressures of our life eventually," Arthur says, which makes me snap my gaze up. But his face is soft as he continues, "In our line of work, we can''t make everyone happy, Iris. Our son takes priority over everything else. Even if people are unhappy about it, we need to put Miles first."


    I chew on my lower lip for a moment, considering. He''s right, of course. We can''t protect Miles from everything forever. be''s the son of the Alpha President and a Willford, and he''s going to grow up in the public eye, where he''ll experience the good, the bad, and the evil at some point or another.


    As much as that sucks, I do want to choose the best for Miles. Wellington is too good to pass up, and if I refused to enroll him simply because of my own fears, then I''d never forgive myself.


    Finally, I nod. "Alright. I want to enroll him."


    Arthur''s face lights up. "You''re sure?"


    "Yes," I say, and despite everything, I mean it. I can''t help but smile up at him, "Miles is going to love it here."


    Arthur beams and pulls me close, brushing a kiss across my lips. "He certainly will,¡± he murmurs. When he pulls back, he takes my hand and leads me back toward the office. I feel a little giddy with excitement.


    The principal already has the paperworkid out for us when we enter her office once more. As I sign my name next to Arthur''s, I feel both ted and nervous, but mostly ted. Miles is going to be so happy when we tell him the news, and I''m already thinking about taking him out shopping for school supplies.


    With that, Arthur and I head out. He takes me back home, where my car is parked. After a quick kiss goodbye, we go our separate ways¡ªwe''ve both got meetings. At least, I think I can call my impromptu visit to Veronica a "meeting".


    I check the address Caleb sent me for Veronica''s penthouse onest time before punching it into my GPS.


    Twenty minutester, I''m standing outside a sleek high-rise in the arts district. It''s exactly the sort of ce like Veronica to live, modern, luxurious, and tall enough to look over the city of Ordan, separated from the storeys of steel and ss.


    My stomach churns slightly as I look up at the building. I don''t know why Veronica makes me so nervous Goddess'' sake, and has been nothing but kind to me- but she does


    "xpect someone


    by thirty


    she''s my cousin, for


    Still, I need her help for my next fundraiser. And especially now that Miles is


    enrolled at Wellington, I want to ensure the


    Chopter 271


    +26 BONUS


    fundraiser is a sess.


    With that thought firmly in mind, I swallow my pride, straighten y shoulders, lift my chin, and press the buzzer for Veronica''s penthouse.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 Chapter 272

    "Hello?"


    Veronica''s voice crackles through the Intercont


    "It''s Iris. Iris Will I stop myself, realizing how stupid I sound. She knows who I am. "Caleb gave me your address. I was hoping I could talk to you about something.


    There''s a brief pause, and I wonder if she''s going to tum me away at then the gate buzzes and begins to slide open. "Come on up, darling. Penthouse floor."


    The lobby of her building is pristine and minimalist, all sleek marble and chrome. A uniformed doorman nods at me as I head for the elevator. As I ride up to the top floor, my stomach twists with nerves. What if sheughs at my proposal? What if she thinks I''m an idiot for even trying to organize something like thing


    The elevator doors slide open directly into her penthouse, no hallway or separate entrance required. I step out into what looks like a magazine spread


    Veronica''s apartment is open concept, with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a panoramic view of the city. The furniture is sleek and minimal and painfully white, which seems like a distant cream for a mother. If I had white furniture, it would be anything but white in about five seconds.


    And the art-there''s so much of it. Paintings that I recognize as works by some of the most prestigious contemporary artists hang on the walls. Sculptures that probably cost more than a year''s rent at my old apartment are disyed on minimalist pedestals.


    And there, in the center of the main room, sits a gleaming ck grand piano, positioned so that whoever ys it can look out over the city.


    "Like what you see?"


    I turn toward the voice to find Veronica descending a floating staircase, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine herself. She''s wearing a silky, champagne-colored nightgown that cascades all the way to the floor. Over it, she wears a sheer robe with feather trim around the cuffs and hem. Her hair cascades down her back in perfect waves, and even without makeup, her skin glows.


    "I''m sorry if I interrupted you getting ready to go somewhere," I say quickly.


    ¡°Oh, I''m actually taking the day off,¡± she says airily. "Sorry for my appearance. I look like a mess."


    I curl my lip involuntarily before I can stop myself. Sure. She looks like a total mess. Meanwhile, I''m standing here in jeans and my yellow cardigan with the hole in it, hair thrown up in a messy bien, probably with breakfast crumbs still on my shirt from Miles''s enthusiastic eating habits this moming.


    Before I can say anything, Veronica tilts her head, noticing the bundle of paperwork under my arm. "Is that from Wellington Academy?" she asks.


    I nce down, realizing I grabbed the enrollment paperwork along with myptop


    by ident, then nod. "Yes-Arthur and i decided to enroll Miles. He''ll be starting school in a couple of week. "


    Veronica''s lips curve. "That''s wonderful. It''s a very prestigious school."


    "It''s close to our home, so Miles can walk to school when he gets older," I say, not that I need to justify it to her. Finally, I clear my throat and get to the point. "Veronica, I''m here because Caleb mentioned that you run the Ordan Pu


    "Ah, yes," she says, moving toward the kitchen area. "Would you Lke some tea? Coffee?"


    School Fund."


    Tea would be nice, thanks."


    She fills an electric kettle and takes out two delicate porcin cups"


    "So, what about the Fund?"


    "I''m working on a project to support arts education in public schools," I exin, setting myptop bag down on the counter. "A fundraiser, specifically. And I vas hoping to get some advice from someone with experience."


    Veronica''s perfectly shaped eyebrows rise slightly. "How ambitios of you. I''d be happy to help however I can." She sounds genuine, which only makes me feel worse about my instinctive duke of her. "Tell me more about your idea."


    I pull out myptop and open the presentation I''ve been working on. "It''s still in the early stages, but I was thinking of organizing a children''s day with games, art stations, food, that so of thing. People can donate as they see fit, and the proceeds would go directly to school art programs."

 Chapter 273

    "May I?" she asks, gesturing to myptop.


    I nod, turning the screen toward her. She scrolls through my presentation quietly, one hand delicately holding her teacup. I watch her face for any sign of judgment, but she remains professionally neutral.


    "This is a good start," she finally says, and my heart lifts until she continues. "But there are several key elements you''re missing."


    For the next thirty minutes, Veronica methodically dissects any proposal. She points out gaps in my budget nning, questions the feasibility of my timeline, suggests that my target audience is too broad, and notes that my marketing strategy doesn''t leverage social media effectively.


    "And you''ll want to think about corporate sponsorships," she adds, scrolling back to my budget slide. "Individual donations are important, but having a few bigpanies on board will give your event credibility and financial stability."


    I nod, taking notes on a pad of paper and trying not to let my disappointment show. It''s not that she''s being mean -quite the opposite, actually. She''s actually being extremely helpful.


    But with each point she makes, I feel more and more out of my depth, more and more like an amateur." Inadequate" would be putting it lightly.


    Once we''re finished, my head is spinning. Somehow, Veronica looks even moreposed than before. She slides myptop back to me with a graceful smile. "I hope that helped," she says, setting aside her empty teacup. "I''m so scatterbrained today, I fear I didn''t make much sense at times."


    The thing that pisses me off about thatment, just like the "I''m a mess"ment, is the fact that she was utterly perfect in every single fucking way that whole time.


    But instead of saying that, I just offer her a smile. "Thank you for taking the time to look at this. I know you must be busy."


    "Always," she sighs dramatically, but with a grin. "Oh, before you go, I wanted to mention something."


    I pause,ptop half in my bag. "Yes?"


    "I saw those ridiculous articles about us being at odds," she says with a lightugh. ¡°Such nonsense, isn''t it? As if we can''t both exist in the same space without being rivals."


    I force a smile. "It''s just the media trying to create drama."


    "Perhaps. Although it does make you think," she murmurs, tapping her chin, "how... different things might have been in another life.¡±


    "What do you mean?"


    Veronica shrugs, the movement causing her robe to slip slightly off one shoulder. She adjusts it casually. "Oh, you know. Maybe in another life, our roles were reversed. Perhaps I was the mate and wife of Arthur, and you were... well." She smiles, but it doesn''t quite reach her eyes. "The lonely spinster."


    I freeze, unsure what to say to that. What the hell does that even mean? Is she implying that if she had been the one to enter the contract marriage with Arthur and not Selina, that I wouldn''t even be in his life right now?


    "Fate is strange that way, isn''t it?" she continues when I don''t respond. "How easily things could have gone differently."


    I clear my throat, finally managing to find my voice. "I suppose so." I zip up myptop bag. "Thanks again for the help. I should get going."


    Veronica walks me to the elevator, and even in private, I swear her feet don''t touch the floor when she moves. I almost want to lift up that expensive silk dress


    to see if she''s gliding on a scaly tail down there rather than feet.


    "Anytime, cousin," she purrs. "And do let me know how the fundraiser nning goes. I''m always happy to offer more... guidance."


    The way she says "guidance" makes it sound like I''ll need a lot of it. Which, to be fair, is pretty true.


    "I will," I say, stepping into the elevator. I manage a tight smile as the doors close between us, finally allowing my face to fall into a scowl the moment I''m alone.

 Chapter 274

    "Nervous" doesn''t even begin to describe how I feel as I stand in the conference room in front of Arthur''s staff three dayster.


    My presentation-which has been painstakingly revised after my visit with Veronica-is ready to go, myptop connected to the projector. Around the oval table sits Arthur''s multiple advisors and his extensive PR team, all waiting quietly while I fumble with myptop.


    At least Arthur is here to support me. Every time I nce at him and see him smiling at me, I feel a little better.


    "Thank you all for taking the time to meet with me today," begin, clicking to my first slide. "As you know, arts education in our public schools has been severely underfunded for years. I''d like to propose a fundraising initiative to help address this issue."


    I move through my slides smoothly, exining my vision for a children''s day event that would raise money while also giving kids a chance to experience art firsthand. As I talk, I notice the expressions around the table softening. Even Arthur''s notoriously hard-to-impress chief of staff is nodding along.


    "The budget breakdown is on the next slide," I say, clicking forward. "As you can


    see


    I stop short, staring at the numbers on the screen. That''s not right. These figures arepletely different from what I prepared. ording to this slide, I''m proposing to spend nearly twice what I had actually budgeted, with most of the excess going to "administrative costs" and "consulting fees."


    "Is everything alright, Miss Willford?" the chief of staff asks, tilting her head. The others look at each other skeptically.


    "I... there seems to be an error in my slides," I admit, feeling a sudden heat engulfing my face. "These aren''t the figures I prepared. One moment, please."


    I quickly skip ahead to the next slide, hoping it''s just a one-off mistake, but the next financial slide is also wrong. It shows that my projected donations are far higher than what I had conservatively estimated, making the whole project seem woefully unrealistic for a simple children''s day.


    It''s making me look like an egotistical fool who thinks her very first public project will be the biggest sess of the year. Someone at the table even chuckles at the numbers.


    "Perhaps we should take a short break," Arthur suggests,ing to my rescue. "Ten minutes, everyone?"


    As the room clears out, Arthur approaches me. "What happened?" he asks quietly.


    "I don''t know," I whisper as I frantically click through my slides. "This isn''t what I prepared. I had reasonable. numbers, I swear. These make me look like I have no idea what I''m doing."


    Arthur squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. "Take a breath. Check your previous versions, see if you can figure out what went wrong."


    I nod and do just that. After a few minutes of searching, I find it a version saved yesterday afternoon, right before I went to Veronica''s penthouse. The numbers there are correct.


    The realization hits me unexpectedly. Did Veronica sabotage my presentation? I remember how she scrolled through my slides, how she had myptop for over half an hour, even typed asionally as she spoke.


    She could have easily made these changes while I was taking notes or drinking my tea...


    Chap


    274


    But as quickly as the suspicion forms, doubt follows, and that is followed by shame. Why am I being so paranoid? Would she really be that petty and vindictive? And if so, why? Just because some tabloids tried to pit us against


    ach other?


    Maybe I''m the problem here. Maybe I''m letting my insecurities about Veronica cloud my judgment. After all, she spent her time helping me and giving me expert advice. Why would she then turn around and sabotage me?


    I manage to find an earlier backup of my presentation and restore the correct figures just as everyone files back into the room. I take a deep breath and start again, pushing thoughts of Veronica aside.


    ¡°Sorry about that, everyone. There was a technical issue with my slides, but it''s resolved now. Let''s continue."


    The rest of the presentation goes smoothly. The questions from Arthur''s team are thoughtful and constructive, not the gotcha interrogation I was dreading. By the end, everyone seems impressed.


    In fact, my project is approved, and I''m even allotted a small sum from the presidential budget to host the fundraiser. I wasn''t expecting to receive anything-I intended on taking a loan from my parents if need be-but it''s a pleasant surprise for my first charity initiative.


    Over the next few weeks, I throw myself into preparations for the children''s day event. With the help of Arthur''s events team, we secure a beautiful outdoor space in one of the city''srgest parks. I design activity stations for finger painting, chalk art, face painting, and various games.


    I''m particrly excited about involving the children from the orphanage where I grew up. These kids rarely get to attend special events, and I''ve arranged transportation to bring them all to the park for the day.


    As the event date approaches, my days be a whirlwind of confirmations,st-minute changes, and endless checklists. I''m in my makeshift office at home- I''ve arranged a corner of my studio for a work station-finalizing theyout for the face painting station when myptop pings with a new email.


    The subject line reads simply: "Hypocrisy."


    Frowning, I open it, expecting some kind of spam. Instead, I find a single paragraph of text, no greeting, no signature:


    "How dare you pretend to care about public school arts education when you''re enrolling your own child in an elite private school? Wellington Academy costs more per year than most families in Ordan make in three months. You''re just another rich hypocrite using poor kids as a photo op to make yourself look caring while ensuring YOUR child never has to suffer the consequences of underfunded schools. If you really cared, you''d put your money where your mouth is and send your precious Miles to public school like the rest of us have to."


    I stare at the screen,pletely dumbfounded. The sender''s address is just a string of random numbers and letters at a generic email provider-clearly created just to send this message.


    My first instinct is defensiveness. I do care about public education! Just because Miles is going to Wellington doesn''t mean I don''t want to improve conditions for all children. And who is this person to judge my choices for my son?


    But beneath the indignation, a tiny seed of doubt takes root. Is there some truth to the usation? Am I a hypocrite? Should I be sending Miles to public school if I really want to support the system?


    Furthermore, how did they even find out about where Arthur and I are sending Miles for school? We''ve kept the entire thing under wraps, ensuring that he doesn''t get singled out.


    Unless...


    I shake my head, trying to clear these thoughts. No, this is us, and even if that''s


    the case, I''m not going to be made to


    are about public schools, and this fundraiser will hopefull


    Without a second thought, I delete the email, immediately


    And with that, I get back to work.


    I shake my head, trying to clear these thoughts. No, this is diculous. It''s just a fluke, that''s all. No one tattled on us, and even if that''s the case, I''m not going to be made to feel bad for sending Miles to a special school. I still


    ard about public schools, and this fundraiser will hopefully prove that to anyone who thinks otherwise.


    Without a second thought, I delete the email; immediately halking it up to an angry troll.


    And with that, I get back to work.

 Chapter 275

    The stack of papers on my desk seems to grow rather than rink no matter how many hours I spend working through them. Budget proposals, foreign policy briefings, economic reports-being Alpha President means drowning in''an endless sea of bureaucracy.


    I rub my eyes, fighting off the midday fatigue. Just three niere reports to review before my afternoon meeting with the agricultural council, and then I can see Iris and Miles. I nce over at the picture of the three of us on my desk-taken during our recent vacation, Miles holding a baby goat while Iris and I crouch on either side of him¡ª and smile softly. When I look at this picture, everything else in life seems easier and insignificant.


    Unfortunately, a knock at my office door interrupts my thoughts. I call out, and a momentter, Ezra pokes his head in. "Sir, there''s someone here to see you. A representative from the Ordan Humanitarian Society."


    I nce at my schedule on the tablet beside me. "I don''t have any meetings with them today."


    "They''re insisting it''s urgent," Ezra says apologetically. "Something about Iris''s fundraiser."


    Great... I should have known.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I sigh, straightening my tie. "Send them in.¡±


    Ezra steps aside, and a woman in a sharply tailored pantsuit enters. She''s middle-aged, with steel-gray hair cut in a severe bob and rectangr sses perched on her nose I suppress a sigh at the sight of her.


    Marjorie Falks. She''s been in my office before-always with someint or another, and never on good terms. As far as humanitarian society representatives go, she''s awfully militant and, dare I say, rude. Even in the blistering heat of thest day of summer today, she looks as cold as ever.


    "Alpha President," she says by way of greeting. She stops in front of my desk and folds her arms across her chest, not bothering to shake my hand.


    "Ms. Falks," I sigh, trying to sound polite despite my immediate frustration. "What can I do for you today?" She doesn''t sit when I gesture to the chair across from my desk, instead remaining rigidly upright. "I''ll be brief, Mr. President. Our organization has concerns about your partner''s uing fundraiser."


    Your partner. As if Iris isn''t the future Luna of Ordan. But I don''t correct Marjorie, because I know it''s not going to change anything.


    "Iris''s children''s day event?" I ask. "What concerns could you possibly have? It''s raising money for arts education in public schools."


    "That''s precisely the issue," Falks says, her thin lips pinching into an even thinner line. "Miss Willford is advocating for public school funding while enrolling her own child in one of the most expensive private institutions in the country. Wellington Academy, if I''m not mistaken."


    My spine stiffens. How does she know where Miles is enrolled? We''ve been extremely careful about that information, wanting to ensure that he doesn''t get singled out at school.


    "Our members find this deeply hypocritical," she continues before I can speak. "She''s positioning herself as a champion for public education while ensuring her own child never has to experience its shorings. It sends a troubling message about the future Luna of Ordan."


    I take a measured breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. Ms. Falks, Lappreciate your organization''s dedication


    to humanitarian causes, but I think you''re mischaracterizing the situation."


    "AM I?"


    "Yes," I say firmly. "Miles has special educational needs that Wellington is particrly well-equipped to address. Furthermore, the school is very safe, which


    is very important for the child of the Alpha President. He''s a hundred times more likely to be singled out than other children."


    Marjorie''s eyes narrow as if she doesn''t believe me.


    "Finally," I continue, "His''s fundraiser is specifically aimed at improving arts education in public schools precisely because she recognizes the disparity between institutions like Wellington and the average public school. She''s trying to help even the ying field."


    She adjusts her sses, clearly unconvinced. "Noble intentions aside, this is problematic. Your partner is new to public life, Mr. President, so perhaps she doesn''t understand how these things look to ordinary citizens. But someone in her position should be leading by example.''

 POV Test 276

    My patience is wearing thin. "Ms. Falks, Iris is doing, exactly that. She''s using her tform to advocate for children who don''t have the advantages her son does. I would think your organization would support such efforts rather than undermine them."


    "We support genuine advocacy, not performances designed to boost one''s public image,¡± she retorts. "And I must warn you, if Miss Willford continues down this path, she risks creating significant public bacsh. Our organization has considerable influence, and many of our members are already expressing their... disappointment."


    Is that a threat? I resist the urge to have her escorted out immediately. Instead, I stand, signaling that this meeting is over.


    "I appreciate your concern, Ms. Falks, but I haveplete confidence in Iris and her project. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have an important meeting to prepare for."


    She Holds iny gaze for a moment before nodding stiffly. "Very well, Mr. President. But consider yourself warned. The public can be quite unforgiving


    Ezra, who has been standing quietly by the door, steps forward to escort her out. Once they''re gone, I sink back into my chair with a heavy sigh. How did the Humanitarian Society find out about Miles'' enrollment? We''ve taken extensive precautions to keep that information private.


    When Ezra returns a few minutester, I wave him over urgently.


    "How the hell did they find out about Miles'' school?" I demand.


    Ezra shakes his head. "I don''t know, sir. Only a handful of people have that information."


    "Well, someone leaked it," I bite out. "I need you to contac Wellington immediately. Make sure they understand the severity of the situation. Miles'' identity needs to be absolutely protected. No photos, nost name on any public documents, nothing that could connect him to me or to Iris."


    "Right away," Ezra nods, already pulling out his phone.


    "And find out how this information got out," I add. "Someone at the school, someone on our staff-whoever it was, I want to speak to them.¡±


    "Of course, sir."


    After Ezra leaves to make the calls, I''m left alone with my thoughts. This isn''t the first time iris has faced criticism since entering my life, but it''s the first time someone has tried to use Miles against us. The thought makes my blood boil.


    For a moment, I consider calling Iris to tell her everything. But her fundraiser is today, so I know she''s very busy. I make a mental note to talk to her before the event begins so she can at least be prepared in case any of jorie''s minions show up to cause trouble.


    With that, I turn back to myputer, nning to get through at least one more report before my next meeting, when I notice a new email in my inbox. The subject line reads: "Update on Special Commission."


    My heart skips a beat as I open it. It''s from the master jeweler Imissioned to create Iris''s engagement ring. I''ve been waiting for this update for weeks.


    There''s an attachment-a photo of the ring in its nearlypleted state. It still needs the stones set and the


    metal polished, but... it''s exactly what I envisioned. A simple tinum band with a small diamond surrounded by smaller cuts of citrine. The yellow gemstone reminds me of that sweater she''s always wearing


    can already picture it on her finger. I can imagine the look on her face when I finally ask her to be my mate, my wife, my Luna-officially and permanently, after too many years of waiting


    A smile reces my earlier scowl. Let Marjorie Falks and her humanitarian society think what they want. Let the tabloids specte and the criticsin. None of It matters. Iris is going to make a wonderful Luna, no matter what anyone thinks.

 POV Test 277

    The sun beats down mercilessly on my back as I stand on the very top rung of a ricketydder, Sweat trickles down my back, making my yellow sundress stick to my skin. But the banner needs to go up, and I''m determined to get it done myself.


    "Just a little higher," I mutter, stretching as far as Lean The colorful "Children''s Day for the Arts" banner refuses to cooperate, the breeze catching It just enough to keep it tantalizingly out of reach of the branch I''m aiming for.


    Thedder wobbles precariously beneath me, and I gasp. Maybe this wasn''t the best idea. But we''re short on volunteers, and everyone else is busy setting up the activity stations around the park.


    Trise up on my tiptoes, still gripping thedder with one hand while the other reaches for the branch. Almost there....


    "Irish What the hell are you doing?"


    Arthur''s rmed shout startles me, causing thedder to wobble even more dangerously. I nce down to see him jogging toward me.


    "Hanging a banner," I call down, as if it isn''t obvious. "What does it look like I''m doing?"


    "It looks like you''re trying to break your neck before the event even starts," he barks, reaching thedder and steadying it with both hands. "Get down from there. Now.


    I roll my eyes but begin my descent. "I almost had it," I grumble as I reach the halfway point.


    "And I almost had a heart attack," Arthur growls, but he''s smiling now. "The future Luna of Ordan, found dead after falling off adder while hanging party decorations. What a headline that would make."


    When I''m eye level with him, I lean forward and press a quick kiss to his lips. "You worry too much, Alpha. I was fine."


    His handse up to my waist, and he easily lifts me the rest of the way down. "Normal Lunas get volunteers to do the dangerous jobs, you know."


    "Well, I''m not normal." I smirk and brush a sweaty strand of hair from my face. "And neither are you, Mr. Alpha President who apparently has time to micromanage his mate''s charity event setup."


    "I may have cleared my schedule for the afternoon. Couldn''t miss the big day."


    The simple admission warms me more than the summer heat. "Well, since you''re here, make yourself useful and hang this banner for me. You''re tall enough to reach without risking your life."


    He takes the banner with a mock salute. "Yes, ma''am."


    tables, and


    As Arthur secures the banner between the two trees, I take a moment to survey the park. It''s been transformed from a simple grassy area to a children''s wondend. Colorful tents house face painting areas game stations. Volunteers in matching t-shirts scurry around, setting up the final touches.


    I can''t help but feel a surge of pride as I look around. Seeing my very first projecte to life is more satisfying than I imagined. In just an hour, the ce will be filled with children from all over Ordan, including the children from the orphanage.


    "All done," Arthur announces, returning to my side. "Banner secured, at least until the next strong breeze.


    "Thank you," I say, linking my arm through his. "Want to see the rest of the setup?"


    He hesitates. "Actually, we need to talk." He stops and turns to me. "I had a visitor today. A representative from the Ordan Humanitarian Society."


    I want to feel excited-the Ordan Humanitarian Society is the biggest charity in Ordan-but the look on Arthur''s face tells me that the visit wasn''t a happy one. "What happened?" Task


    "She came toin about you organizing a public school fundraiser while sending Miles to it hypocritical.


    I frown. "How does anyone even know about Wellington? We''ve been so careful..."


    Wellington. Called


    That''s what I''d like to know," Arthur says, his jaw tightening. "She made it sound likemon knowledge."


    A sh of anger cuts through me as I recall the nasty email from a couple of weeks ago. "So what, I''m not allowed to support public schools because my son goes to a private one? That''s ridiculous."


    "I know," Arthur says. "I told her as much. But just in case any of their representatives show up today, maybe kill them with kindness? Or just ignore thempletely.


    I nod, although ignoring them might be harder than Arthur makes it sound. Arthur goes on, anyone about the school besides your parents?"


    "Have you told


    I think for a moment, mentally running through conversations I''ve had in the past few weeks. "Caleb knows, and Hunter and Alice. Emi and Ezra know, of course,


    too, just by association." But those are all people we both trust wholeheartedly. None of them would utter a word.

 POV Test 278

    Arthur nods slowly, brow furrowed as he considers. Suddenly, I recall my visit with Veronica.


    "Oh, and Veronica knows," 1 add. "I told her when I was getting her advice on my presentation a couple weeks ago,"


    Arthur''s eyebrows rise slightly. "Veronica? Why would you ell her?"


    1 shrug. "She noticed that I had paperwork from Wellington in my hand. She just said it''s a very prestigious School, and that was the end of the conversation."


    Arthur seems to consider this for a moment before shrugging. "Well, I doubt Veronica said anything to anyone. I''m going to me the paparazzi for this. They always find ways to get information they shouldn''t have."


    "We''ll be more careful going forward," I say with a nod.


    The rest of the setup passes quickly. Before I know it, the park gates are open, and families begin streaming in. The turnout is even better than I hoped- hundreds of children with their parents, all eager to participate in the activities we''ve arranged


    I spot the bus from the orphanage arriving and hurry over to greet the children. Giulia throws her arms around me, kissing me on each cheek. ¡°Iris, darling, you''re practically glowing," she breathes, pulling back to look at me. "I still can''t believe it... You''re a werewolf..."


    I smile, even though the reminder makes my heart pound. Frankly, with no wolf, I forget it myself. "Thank you foring, Giulia. I hope the children have a fun day."


    Giulia bears. "This is a good thing you''re doing. The kids are very excited.''


    "As they should be." I pull out a stack of papers and hand them to her. The papers contain small maps of the event grounds with spots for stickers. "Make sure all of the kids get one of these. Each station will have an attendant that will add a sticker to each space. Once the kids have filled their map, they cane to the prize tent for a goodie bag."


    Giulia grins, and as she and the kids make their way into the park, I return to the central area where Arthur is chatting with some of the donors who contributed to the event. He looks handsome in his casual attire-jeans and a button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Less like the Alpha President and more like just another dad enjoying a family day out.


    Miles is here, too. I spot Emi, Hunter, and Alice leading him around the festival from afar, he''s got his face painted like a clown fish, and he waves at us excitedly. I offer him a little wiggle of my fingers and stick my tongue out, making him giggle.


    The day progresses smoothly, with the activity stations bustling and the donation boxes filling nicely. I''m in the middle of helping a little girl string beads at the craft tent when one of the volunteers approaches me.


    "Miss Willford? The blindfold game is starting in five minutes. Do you want to participate?"


    ve to find their "Oh, right!" I''d almost forgotten about this activity-a game where children are blindfolded an parents using only their sense of smell. Even though many of the kids participating aren''t werewolves, I thought it would be a fun game to incorporate.


    I quickly finish helping the little girl with her bracelet before making my way to the game area, where Arthur is already waiting with Miles.


    The volunteer in charge exins the rules: the children will be blindfolded and spun around three times, while the parents arrange themselves in a circle. Then the kids will try to identify their parents by scent alone.


    Miles stands still as the volunteer secures the blindfold over his eyes, then giggles as he''s gently spun around. Arthur and I move to our spots in the circle, standing side by side with the other parents.


    "He''ll find us right away," Arthur whispers to me, "His nose is already better than most."


    I nod, watching as Miles steadies himself after the spinning stops. He takes a few tentative steps forward, his nose twitching adorably as he sniffs the air. Several other blindfolded children are doing the same, some heading directly for their parents while others wander almlessly.


    Miles, however, seems to have caught a scent. He inoves with surprising confidence, heading straight toward us. Arthur and I exchange a smile.


    But he doesn''te to us,


    Instead, Miles walks right past where we''re standing without even hesitating. My smile falters as he brushes right between our legs, heading out of the circle. Arthur and I turn, our gazes following our son.


    To my surprise, he reaches his arms out toward someone else. My heart drops as I recognize the woman who is smiling and scooping him up.


    Veronica.

 POV Test 279

    Iris


    Veronica scoops Miles up into her arms, causing all of the parents and nearby onlookers to turn and gawk. My mouth falls open as I watch her hold my son.


    Why did Miles go straight past me and Arthur and to her? He''s always been able to recognize Arthur, at the very least; it makes no sense.


    Miles pulls off his blindfold, his little face shifting from confusion to embarrassment as he realizes his mistake. He wiggles in Veronica''s arms, and she sets him down gently. He runs back to us, and I scoop him up, holding him against my chest.


    "Sorry about that," Veronica says with a lightugh. "I think my perfume might have confused him. It''s lily andvender-aren''t those your usual scents, Iris?"


    She''stight. I bought a bottle of lily andvender perfume about a year ago and I''m still working through it. I''m surprised Veronica noticed, though, and even more surprised that Veronica is wearing the same scent. It''s not a verymonbination.


    I nce at Arthur, wondering if he''s having the same thoughts. But when I look at him, his eyes are glowing subtly


    -just like they do when we''re being intimate together. The faintest green gleam, like lichen in the depths of a dark cave.


    I blink, stunned. The glow is gone quickly, but I know it was there.


    Before I can process this, Arthurughs loudly and ps his hands. "Well, that was unexpected! I think we need to work on our son''s nose training."


    The crowd around usughs at that. Several parents even joke that their children made simr mistakes, and the volunteer in charge quickly moves on to the next activity. I''m still a bit astonished, but I''m d for Arthur''s quick thinking because it was only a matter of time before people started specting about the three of us.


    "Don''t worry about it," Arthur murmurs to me as we walk away. "Kids make mistakes."


    I look up at him. "Why did your eyes glow, then?"


    Arthur stares at me. "What?"


    I set Miles down, who runs off to y with his friends from the orphanage. ¡°Your eyes,¡± I say, keeping my voice low. "They glowed for a moment when you looked at Veronica."


    He looks at me for a moment longer, his mouth opening and closing as if not sure how to respond, then shrugs. Like she said, you wear that scent all of the time." He steps closer, dipping his head to take a deep inhale of my hair. When he pulls back, his eyes are flickering with that supernatural light again. ¡°I must be conditioned to your delicious scent. See?"


    Despite myself, I can''t help butugh and swat at his chest. "You''re impossible," I mutter.


    Arthur catches my wrist and gently presses my palm to his chest, right over his heart. "Don''t worry about flukes like that, Iris," he says seriously. "You''re all I could ever want. Soon, you''ll know for certain."


    My eyes widen slightly as the implication sinks in. Is he saying...?


    Before I can ask if there really is an engagement on the horizon, Arthur winks and pulls away, strutting across thewn toward someone he recognizes. I watch him go, shaking my head fondly.


    The rest of the afternoon continues without incident. In fact, to my absolute delight, the children''s day is a roaring sess. Every activity station is packed and smiling faces are everywhere I look.


    "By the time the crowd begins to thin, Arthur and I head to the donation area to check the boxes. I''m not expecting to have raised an exorbitant amount for my first event, especially not for one that''s open to the public and particrly devoid of wealthy socialites, but I''m pleasantly surprised to find that three out of the four boxes have been filled with cash and coins.


    Grinning, I reach for the fourth and final donation box. It''s beavier than I expected, which is a good sign. I pry open the lid, expecting to find wads of cash, a few checks, and piles of loose change like the other boxes.


    Instead, it''s filled to the brim with small white paper slips.


    "What the...?" I mutter, reaching in and pulling one out. As unfold it, my heart sinks.


    Printed on each slip is the same message:


    ¡°Iris Willford puts her son in Wellington Academy ($45,000/year tuition) while pretending to care about public schools. HYPOCRITE!"


    And below that is a photocopied image of Miles'' school registration form,plete with Wellington''s letterhead and Miles'' full name.


    "Arthur," I whisper, showing him the slip. His face darkens as he reads it.


    Suddenly, a gust of wind catches the papers in the box, sending them swirling into the air. I gasp, lunging forward to catch them, but it''s toote. Someone snatches one out of the air, reads it, then looks up at Arthur and I in shock. A few more people do the same, then begin murmuring to each other. One woman even bares her teeth, grabs her kid, and storms out of the park angrily.

 POV Test 280

    Heat crawls up my neck as I realize what''s happening. Someone deliberately nted these papers to undermine "my event. And it''s working.


    "Ezra," Arthur barks, whirling to face his Beta. "Check the security footage. Find out who put these here."


    Ezra nods and hurries away, already pulling out his phone to contact the security team.


    "I''m so sorry," I whisper to Arthur, watching as more papers scatter across thewn. "This is exactly what you warned me about."


    Arthur''s jaw clenches. "This isn''t your fault. This is a deliberate attack, and a dangerous one at that. Publishing Miles''s full name and school..... it''s a security risk, not just a personal attack"


    He''s right. We''ve been careful to keep Miles out of the public eye as much as possible, both for his privacy and his safety. Now his name and school are literally blowing in the wind for anyone to see.


    Ezra returns in just a few minutes with a grim expression. We caught it on camera. A man in a hoodle dumped the papers into the box about thirty minutes ago, then left immediately. We couldn''t see his face clearly, but he was average height, average build."


    "Generic as possible," Arthur mutters. "Get in touch with the Humanitarian Society. I want to speak with Marjorie Falks directly. This kind of stunt is beyond uneptable."


    "Yes, sir," Ezra says before hurrying away


    "Maybe we should reconsider Miles" school," I say quietly. "If it''s causing this much of an issue-"


    "Absolutely not," Arthur interrupts firmly. "We shouldn''t have to exin or justify our choices for our son. And we certainly shouldn''t let bullies dictate those choices"


    I nod, knowing he''s right. The problem isn''t really that Miles attends Wellington- it''s that Wellington offers opportunities that public school children can only dream of The real issue is the inequality itself.


    I should view this as a sign that I need to keep working hard on my initiative. I''ll have to n another fundraiser soon-one that''s three times as big as this one. Something that will not only prove that I''m serious, but also that will actually make a big difference for arts programs across the board.


    By the time we finish cleaning up and collecting all the scattered papers, the sun is setting, Arthur is still furious. Ezra confirms that he''s set up a meeting with the Humanitarian Society for tomorrow morning.


    "Don''t go too hard on them," I warn Arthur. "If we react too negatively, it might just make us look worse." Arthur merely growls in response.


    Just as we''re about to leave, I spot a familiar figure across the way-Veronica, apparently just leaving as well. She must have stuck around for the whole event after all.


    Without thinking, I jog across the grass toward her. She turns at the sound of my approach, her perfect eyebrows rising in surprise.


    "Iris! What a wonderful event. The children seemed to have so much fun."


    "Thanks," I say, but I''m not here for pleasantries. I need answers. "Veronica, did you tell anyone about Miles attending Wellington?"


    Her eyes widen with what looks like genuine shock. "Of course not. Why would I do that?"


    "I''m not saying you did it maliciously," I rify quickly. "But maybe you mentioned it to someone who then passed it on?"


    "Veronica shakes her head emphatically. "Absolutely not. I would never discuss a child''s private information with


    anyone." She touches my arm gently. "Why? What happened? Is everything alright?"


    I hesitate, then reply vaguely, "Someone found out and used it to try to discredit the fundraiser. Called me a hypocrite."


    "Oh, that''s awful," Veronica gasps, her hand flying to her chest. "People can be so cruel. Is there anything I can do to help?"


    Her concern seems genuine, which only makes me feel worse for suspecting her. Maybe I am letting my insecurities cloud my judgment again.


    "No, it''s fine," I sigh. "We''re handling it. Sorry to use you. I just wanted to know for certain."


    "Don''t be silly," she says with a warm smile. "I understand your concern. But I promise, your confidence is safe with me."


    I nod, forcing a tight smile in return. "Thank you. And... Thank you foring today."


    Veronica''s lips curve. ¡°I am sorry about the incident with that game, by the way. I guess one of us will have to stop wearing that perfume in the future.


    e one to


    I open my mouth to respond, but feel myself at a slight loss for words. Is she implying that I should be the stop wearing the scent I''ve had for a year because of the incident? But... No, I tell myself quickly. I''m being paranoid Again


    Finally, I manage a smile as we part ways. I watch her go, mentally chiding myself for the way I view her. She''s not Selina. Not anything like Selina, actually Right?

 POV Test 281

    "Are you ready, buddy?" Arthur kneels In front of Miles, adjusting the cor of his navy blue uniform. The formal little outfit makes our son look older somehow, more grown-up than his five years. My chest aches at the sight.


    Miles shifts from foot to foot. "What if the other kids don''t like me?"


    "That''s impossible," I say with a smile, "You''re the most cable kid in the world."


    Miles considers this for a moment before muttering, "Yeali,, but what if I get lost? The school is really big"


    "Your ssroom is just down the hall from the main entrance," I remind him gently. "And your teacher will make sure you get where you need to go."


    Miles wrinkles his nose and looks up at the enormous Wellington Academy building behind us, clearly unconvinced. I have to admit, therge redbrick building, with ivy climbing up its walls and wrought iron gates and fences that couldn''t be climbed over even with a ten-foot-talldder on either side, is a little intimidating even to me. I can only imagine how it looks to a five-year-old. But I don''t say that out loud.


    Once Miles is ready, the three of us walk together toward the building, Other parents and children stream past, some looking confident and excited, others clearly as nervous as Miles.


    Inside, the school is even more impressive than I remember from our tour. The main hall is bustling with people, new shoes echoing on the gleaming hardwood floors and banners hanging from the walls reading "Wee, Students!"


    Unlike the underfunded public schools I visited during my charity research, everything here is pristine and well-maintained, clearly the beneficiary of those exorbitant tuition fees. It''s beautiful inside, clearly designed to ensure the highest quality education possible.


    My stomach twists slightly as I recall the bad press we''ve received surrounding all of this. A few parents even nce our way, furrowing their brows as we walk by. For a moment, I question our decision again, but then Miles" face lights up as he sees a group of little boys ying with stic dinosaurs outside a ssroom, and any second thoughts I have vanish at the sight of his excitement.


    As we approach Miles'' ssroom, we spot his teacher standing at the door, greeting each child by name even though it''s their very first day of kindergarten. She''s young probably in her early thirties, with a kind smile and colorful butterfly clips in her hair.


    "And you must be Miles!" she exims when we reach her "I''m so happy to see you today!"


    Miles shrinks against my leg, suddenly shy again, but his teacher seems unfazed.


    "I have something special to show you," she continues, kneeling to his level. "Do you want to see the ss pet? His name is Sheldon, and he''s a turtle."


    Miles perks up immediately. "A real turtle?"


    "A real turtle," his teacher confirms with a grin. "He''s very friendly. Would you like to help me feed him this morning?"


    Miles looks up at Arthur and me, silently asking permission. We both nod encouragingly.


    "You go ahead,¡± Arthur says. "Mom and I will stick around for a few more minutes."


    Miles hesitates just a moment longer before releasing our hands and following his teacher into the ssroom. We watch from the doorway as the introduces him to


    a small group of children already gathered around a terrarium in


    e corner. Miles wrings his hands and stands on Ils tiptors to see the turtle.


    "He''ll be fine," Arthur murmurs, his arm sliding around my waist. "You don''t have to cry."


    I didn''t even realize there was a tear slipping down my cheek until now. I quickly brush it away with the back of my hand and whisper thickly, "I know. I know he''ll be fine,


    Arthur''s arm gently tightens around me, and he leans his head on top of mine.


    We stand there for a few minutes longer, just quietly watching the scene. Finally, the bell rings, and it''s time for us to go. I try to cherish this moment as much as I can-the smell of new books and backpacks, children''s sneakers squeaking on the floor, our son nervously checking out his very first desk.


    There are all moments I thought the three of us would never get to experience as a family, and yet here we are. Together. Happy.


    If only the public felt the same way.


    Ever since the children''s day event yesterday, the public has been in a small


    frenzy. Pictures were captured of Veronica scooping Miles up, my sour face, and of course, the papers that cruelly revealed Miles'' enrollment at Wellington. Chapter 282

 POV Test 282

    The top trending article of the week is scathing. The headlife reads: "Even Alpha''s Son Prefers no Prodigy Over "Future Luna!"


    The bacsh is even worse than I feared. If there was any doubt before that Veronica and I have some kind of secret feud, it''s certainly gone now. Some people even think that Miles is secretly Veronica''s son, not mine.


    But even if people don''t believe that nonsense, the general consensus is still that I''m making a serious faux pas by enrolling Miles at Wellington. In fact, my approval ratings have dropped again. The numbers are still above 70%, but they''re going down by the day. They dropped more than 5% just since yesterday.


    Meanwhile, people are moring to say that Veronica would make a far better Luna and mother. They im that she wouldn''t make mistakes like this, that she is a genuine person and I''m not, that she knows how to act as a wealthy person. They even think that I''m taking advantage of my recent fame and getting too big for my own head.


    But as much as it stings, I know that public opinion isn''t always rational. People love a scandal, particrly when it''s a rivalry between women. It''s the oldest story in the book, and the fact that Arthur is being conveniently left out of all of this isn''t lost on me. As if choosing to send our son to a particr school wasn''t a decision that we both made.


    Either way, I know I have to get ahead of this nonsense before it gets out of control, so I use my day-now that Miles is at school, I have a lot more free time during the morning and afternoon-toe up with the next step in my n.


    The Ordan Public School Fund that Veronica runs isrge and well-known. A partnership would bring legitimacy to my project and put to rest any notion of a feud between us. Plus, it would be a much more effective way to actually help the kids who need it.


    For my next event, I decide to organize a major fundraising g. With Veronica''s contacts and my position as the future Luna, we could attract serious donors. And the media would eat it up-the supposed rivals joining forces for amon cause,


    Over the next couple of days, I draft up a proposal. I want it to be perfect so Veronica will have no choice but to ept. I n to paint severalrge artworks of my own to auction off for charity, and contact some other Ordan artists-Hunter being one of them-to auction off their work as well.


    Alice agrees to let me use the Marsiel Gallery space for the event, which will also be a boon for her business. We even discuss the matter with the director of Abbott Gallery, who offers to help with advertising. Everything is going ording to n.


    Once I''ve prepared a solid proposal, I make an official appointment with the Ordan Public School Fund for an interview with Veronica. I don''t want to show up unannounced at her penthouse again, dressed in sloppy work clothes while she''s utterly perfect, so I give myself enough time to prepare.


    On the day of the interview, I dress in a pristine blue dress and heels, my hair pulled neatly back and just a minimal amount of makeup. I make sure I have all of my materials organized, then head to Veronica''s charity headquarters with my chin held high.


    Somehow, of course, the paparazzi have gotten wind of this I make sure to smile the whole way up the front path to the headquarters, just so my "sour" face can''t be captured on camera again.


    Acting like this makes me feel more like Selina than I''d like to admit. But this is what the people expect, and it''s what I''ve been training for for months now. If there was one thing Selina had going for her, it was her way with manipting the press to avoid public bacsh. I guess it''s not so bad to take a page out of her book in that


    regard, not just for my sake, but for Miles'' as well.


    When I arrive, a secretary is waiting for me in the spacious of-the-art facility to a gleaming office with floor-to-ceili


    Veronica is sitting at the head of the table, looking perfect "Iris," she says, gesturing to the chair all the way at the of


    regard, not just for my sake, but for Miles'' as well.


    When I arrive, a secretary is waiting for me in the spacious white lobby. She leads


    me through the gorgeous, state-of-the-art facility to a gleaming office with floor- to-celling windows and a long ss conference table.


    Veronica is sitting at the head of the table, looking perfect as ever.


    "Iris," she says, gesturing to the chair all the way at the other end. "Please, take a seat."

 POV Test 283

    Iris


    As I take a seat all the way at the other end of the long ss conference table, I can''t help but feel a little awkward. The distance between us feels like miles. Does Veronica really need to seat us so far apart?


    But I keep my expression serene and don''t mention it, refusing to show


    difort. Veronica likely doesn''t mean anything by it, anyway, and even if she does, I don''t want to cause a scene over seating arrangements,


    ¦°


    *Thank you for meeting with me today," I begin with a smile. "I''ve been thinking about ways to expand my arts education initiative, and I think partnering with the Ordan Public School Fund would be the perfect next step."


    Veronica tilts her head slightly so that a delicate strand of hair falls perfectly against her slender cheek. "I''m intrigued. What exactly do you have in mind?"


    I open my portfolio and pull out the proposal I''ve prepared. Of course, she''s so fucking far away that I can''t even slideft to her, so I get up, walk down the length of the enormous table, hand it to her, then return to my seat. My heels click the whole way, seeming to echo in the vast room.


    "I was


    thinking of hosting a charity g with an art auction" I exin once I''ve finally taken my seat once more. "I would like to contribute several of my own pieces to auction off, and I''ve already spoken to other local artists who are willing to donate work. The Marsiel Gallery has offered their space, and Abbott Gallery is on board to help with advertising "


    "Impressive, "Veronica says, and I can''t tell if she actually means it or if she''s just being polite. I hope it''s the former, although I''m never certain with her. "You''ve done your homework."


    "I want to make a real difference this time," I say with a shrug. "My children''s day event was symbolic-


    "And came with some drama," Veronica adds.


    I press my lips into a thin line and refuse toment. "Regardless, the funds we raised simply weren''t enough to make arge impact on the disparity between private and public school education. My main goal is to help bridge the gap.


    She tilts her head again. "To ensure that public school children receive a good education, or to ensure Miles won''t be ridiculed for attending private school?"


    §®§å§ã


    chest constricts with a re of anger, but I quickly tamp it down. "Two things can be true at the same time.


    "Of course." Veronica takes her time reviewing the document. I try not to fidget as I wait for her response. The only sound in the room is that of the rustling of papers.


    "This is ambitious," she finally says, looking up at me. "But I do see potential. There are some financial considerations we need to discuss, though."


    I nod, pulling out my notepad. "Of course. That''s one reason I wanted to partner with your charity-you have the infrastructure in ce for handling major donations."


    "The Ordan Public School Fund has significant operating costs," Veronica exins, pulling


    tablet and


    tapping on the screen. "Staff sries, administrative expenses... We''d need to meet a certain threshold before any donations could be directly allocated to school programs."


    She turns the tablet toward me, and even from here, I can see the exorbitant number. I suppress a gasp. It''s nearly triple what I had budgeted for.


    "That''s... a lot more than anticipated," I admit, ncing a her.


    Veronica''s smile is unwavering. "Quality initiatives require proper funding, Iris. This isn''t a bake sale we''re ronning."


    I swallow my automatic defensive response. ¡°No, of course not. I understand."


    ¡°The question is,¡± Veronica says, ¡°can you meet this goal? Your previous event, while well-intentioned, didn''t exactly bring in substantial funds....


    My face warms at the dig, but I force my smile to remain in ce. As if the paparazzi can take pictures of my sour mug through the windows. Which, actually, the windows are sorge they might actually be able to


    "I believe we can," I manage. "With the right sponsors and an exclusive guest list,


    plus the art auction, we should be able to meet or even exceed that amount."

 POV Test 284

    That''s the spirit," Veronica says brightly. "I''d be happy to share our donor database with you. Many of them are enthusiastic about arts education."


    I jot down notes as Veronica continues outlining what the partnership would entail. Despite the higher financial bar, working with her established charity would give my initiative instant credibility. And the PR benefits of publicly joining forces would be invaluable after those awful tabloid stories.


    "I think this could work well for both of us," I say once we''ve gone through all the details. "I''mmitted to making it a sess."


    "Wonderful." Veronica stands, tenting her fingers on the ss table. "We''ll need to move quickly, though. The fall social season fills up fast, and we want to secure the best date."


    "I was thinking three weeks from now," I suggest. "Alice said the gallery is avable then."


    Veronica raises an eyebrow. "Three weeks? That''s ambitious."


    "I work well under pressure."


    "Clearly." Her eyes do a quick sweep over me as if assessing me. "Very well. I''ll have my team start on the paperwork immediately."


    With that, Veronica extends her hand. She doesn''t make a move to walk toward me. I bite back ament and cross over to her, then shake her slender hand.


    Now that we''re this close, I can''t help but notice something or rather, the absence of something. Thevender and lily scent she wore at the children''s day event is gone, reced by something more expensive-smelling and distinctly different.


    Did she stop wearing it because of what happened with Miles? Or had she worn it specifically for that day, knowing that Miles might recognize it as my scent?


    I shake the thought away immediately. I''m being paranoid again, looking for malice where there might be none. Maybe she just wears different perfumes on different days, like most rich people do. I''m just used to having very little money and having to stretch a single bottle of perfume over the course of a full year.


    "Oh, before I go," I say as I gather my materials, "I wanted to check something. Thest time I prepared a proposal, there were some... discrepancies in the financial section when I presented it. I want to make sure we''re absolutely clear on the donation threshold before we proceed. It seems quite high for operating costs."


    Something shes in Veronica''s eyes-so quickly I almost miss it-before her polite smile returns. "The Ordan Public School Fund has been operational for eight years, Iris. Our financial model is meticulously developed and has been independently audited. I assure you, we know what we''re doing."


    "I didn''t mean to suggest otherwise," I say quickly. "I''m just eager to learn more about charity management. Working alongside you will be a great opportunity for me to understand these things better."


    Veronica''s smile widens a fraction. "Indeed. The learning curve can be... steep for rookies. But don''t worry, cousin. I''m sure you''ll catch up eventually."


    The words are perfectly pleasant, but something in her tone makes my skin prickle. Did she just imply I''m slow to learn? Or am I being overly sensitive... again?


    "Well, I appreciate your guidance," I say with a nod.


    "That''s what family is for," Veronica says sweetly. "We wouldn''t want another incident like the children''s day,


    would we?"


    There it is again-that hint of something beneath her words that leaves me uncertain whether I''m imagining things. Before I can respond, she''s guiding me toward the door, quietly indicating that our meeting is over.


    The drive home gives me time to sort through my thoughts. Despite the unease lingering from some of Veronica''sments, I feel cautiously optimistic about the partnership. The g will be challenging to organize on such a short timeline, especially with such a high donation goal, that''s for certain.


    But I think it could be a major sess. And a turning point not just for the children of Ordan, but also for our family.


    Today''s Bonus Offer

 POV Test 285

    Iris


    I watch Miles from the wrought-iron patio table where my mother, Arthur, and I are


    having Saturday afternoon tea. He''s running around thewn, giggling as he chases butterflies, his dark hair catching the sunlight. Every now and then, he squeals with delight when onends on his outstretched finger.


    "He''s got so much energy," my mother notes, sipping her tea. "Caleb was the same way at that age. Couldn''t keep still for more than five seconds."


    I smile, watching as my father emerges from the greenhouse to show Miles a particrly colorful butterfly perched on a potted nt. Miles'' eyes go wide, and he listens attentively as my father exins something to him.


    "It''s nice to see them bonding," I say softly. "I always wanted him to have loving grandparents."


    My mother beams. "And we''ve always wanted a grandchild


    I can''t help but feel tears misting over my eyes, although I quickly blink them away. Miles is getting to experience the childhood I never had. And while there''s a small part of me that feels a twinge of jealousy, it''s overshadowed by the gratitude I feel that Miles gets to experience this.


    "Daddy!¡± Miles suddenly calls out, beckoning Arthur over. Daddy,e look!"


    Arthur chuckles fondly and wanders over to Miles and my father. My mother turns to me once he''s gone. "Iris, do you like chess?" I nod, and she quickly gets up, retreating into the house for a minute before returning with a beautiful marble chess set. I help her set it up on the patio table.


    "So," she begins, moving her pawn forward two spaces to open the game. "Tell me what''s been troubling you.


    I look up, startled. "What makes you think something''s troubling me?"


    "Please." She gives me a pointed look. "I may not have known you for long, but I''m still your mother. Mothers can tell."


    I sigh, moving one of my pawns to counter hers. "Is it that obvious?"


    "You''re doing a good job of hiding it, if it''s any constion."


    I hesitate, watching her make her next move. "It''s just... everything with the charity initiative, the bacsh about Miles going to school, and then there''s Veronica..."


    My mother listens intently as I fill her in on everything-the disaster at the children''s day event, the falling approval ratings, the "feud" with Veronica that the tabloids are picking at like roadkill. My mother is blissfully disconnected from the news outlets, so she wasn''t aware of a lot of this. I wish I had her strength in refusing to look at the inte, but it''s not so easy for a young person.


    "I just feel like I''m barely keeping my head above water," I admit, capturing one of her pawns with mine. "Veronica is so... perfect. Always poised, always saying the right thing, never a hair out of ce. Meanwhile, I feel like I''m constantly one step away frompletely screwing up. And the media is absolutely loving it."


    My mother considers this, her fingers hovering over a bishop before moving it diagonally across the board. "You''re putting too much pressure on yourself, Iris. In our world, you can''t do everything perfectly. It''s always a bncing act."


    "What do you mean?" I ask as I study the board for my next move.


    "I mean that being wealthyes with its own unique challenges," she exins. "You''re constantly having to choose between pleasing the public and caring for your family. The less fortunate will always judge the more


    fortunate. It''s in our nature-resentment is a powerful emotion."


    I nod slowly, moving my knight to threaten her bishop. "I''ve been on both sides now. I know what it feels like to struggle, to look at someone who has everything and think Why them and not me?""


    "Exactly," my mother says. "And that''s what makes you special, Iris. You have a perspective that most wealthy peopleck. You''re doing a splendid job of bncing what best for Miles while showing genuine care for those less fortunate. Your humble upbringing has given you insight that someone like Veronica could never have."


    I frown, watching as she counters my move by repositioning her queen. "But Veronica runs a charity. She clearly cares about helping others too."


    "Perhaps," my mother concedes. ¡°But ask yourself-does she do it because she genuinely cares, or because it''s expected of someone in her position? Is it passion or obligation?"


    I hadn''t considered that. My chess game falters as I ponder her words, making a careless move that leaves my bishop vulnerable.


    "You''re distracted," my mother notes, taking advantage of my mistake to capture my piece. "Check."

 POV Test 286

    I quickly reposition my king out of danger. "I just feel so out of my league."


    My mother sighs softly. "Iris, you have to think of this world of wealth, status, and influence as one big chess match. And remember that everyone ys differently."


    She gestures to the board between us. "Some y with outwardly aggressive tactics, using their queen right off the bat." She taps her queen piece. "That was Selina''s approach-bold, obvious, easy to anticipate orice you understand her pattern."


    Inod, chewing the inside of my cheek.


    "But others," my mother continues, moving one of her pawns up a space, positioning it so that if I move my knight to get out of danger, another pawn will take it, ¡°strategically use their pawns to get what they want. Don''t be so certain that someone like Veronica ispletely innocent all of the time."


    My eyes widen slightly at the implication. "You think she''s deliberately trying to undermine me?"


    "I''m not saying that," my mother says carefully. "I''m saying you should keep your eyes open and your wits about you. Not everyone who smiles at you wishes you well. And sometimes it''s alright to trust your gut-if someone seems too sweet to be savory, then maybe they really are."


    I consider her words as I study the board.


    "You''re right," I finally say, moving my knight to capture her nearby bishop. Her pawn immediately takes my knight, but I think it was a fair trade. "I''ll try to keep my head screwed on tight."


    "Precisely." My mother beams at me. "And remember, you have one thing that people like Veronica don''t have: genuine support in the form of a mate and a close family."


    She picks up her castle piece, holding it up for me to see. "The castle, which represents home and strength, is one of the most powerful pieces on the board, although often overlooked. It''s humble-it doesn''t draw attention like the queen- but it''s essential to winning."


    "Arthur is my castle," I muse, ncing across thewn where he''s helping Miles climb a tree, my father spotting them from below.


    "Yes, and so are we," my mother says. "Let me show you something.


    >>


    She demonstrates a move I''ve never seen before, sliding her king two spaces toward her castle, then moving the castle to the other side of the king.


    "It''s called ''castling,"" she exins. "A special move that protects your king by bringing your castle into y. It''s the only time in chess where you can move two pieces at once."


    I watch, fascinated, as she exins the rules of castling-how neither piece can have moved previously, spaces between them must be empty, how the king can''t be in check or move through check.


    the


    "The message is clear," she says. "Your king-your heart, your core self-is strongest when it''s protected by its castle. By home and family."


    The game continues, and I find myself thinking more strategically, anticipating her moves instead of just reacting to them. When I finally manage to execute a perfect castling maneuver, it shifts the entire dynamic of the board in my favor.


    Five movester, I''ve trapped her king. "Checkmate,¡± I announce, surprised at my own victory. I''ve never been very good at chess.


    As we clean up the board, iny mother suddenly ps her hands together. "Oh! I almost forgot! I have something for you two." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out anvelope, handing it to me. "I was saving these for a special asion, but I think you could use them now."


    Inside are two tickets to the Ordan Botanical Gardens. ¡°They''re having a special exhibition of night-blooming flowers this weekend," she exins. "It''s supposed to be quite romantic. You two should go tonight."


    "But what about Miles?" I ask.


    "Oh, we''ll keep him for the day," my mother says, waving her hand. ¡°Francis has been dying to spend some quality time with him, and I''ve got a whole baking lesson nned."


    Considering this, I look over at Arthur, who is crossing thewn back toward me. Miles isying in the grass, his little chest heaving from exertion. He''sughing.


    My mother touches my hand. ¡°Don''t get so wrapped up in politics that you forget what''s truly important, Iris. Remember, your castle is your saving grace."


    She''s right, as usual. Without a second thought, I rise and meet Arthur halfway, holding up the tickets. "Want to go on a date with me to see some flowers?"


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