Chapter 106

Iris & Arthur

Iris

The shopping bags rustle as I shift them in my arms, stepping out of the taxi in front of my apartment building. My head still feels foggy, like I’m walking through a dream—or maybe a nightmare. I keep replaying 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 replacement.

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 airplane toy Caleb bought him without even asking if it was okay. A blatant attempt to win over my son, but Miles fell for it instantly. I can’t really blame 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 explain carefully. “He spilled coffee all over my shirt, so he offered to replace it.”

Arthur’s eyes drift to the numerous shopping bags. “That’s a lot of replacement shirts.”

“He felt really bad about it, especially after what Selina did to me,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. “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.

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 glances 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 hours later. 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 Iris completely—it’s Caleb I don’t trust. What game is he playing now? And why does it involve Iris?

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 explain the dress. That sapphire blue dress she showed me—I recognized the designer immediately. At least three thousand dollars, 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’t come 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 the comforts a life with me could give her.

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

I did accidentally put Selina in a coma. 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 relationship. Maybe he wants revenge.

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

“Hello, Father,” I answer.

“Arthur,” Leonard’s gruff greeting comes 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, particularly when asked about her role as Luna. They just printed it today, along with the photographs of us, and she looked positively uncomfortable.

“She’s not used to this,” I reply simply.

“Not used to it?” My father scoffs. “She’s not suitable for it. That display 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?”

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 accept 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 heir. 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 too late to fix this. Drop the human before it’s too late. 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…