Chapter 133

Iris

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 and last 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 place—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. “Relax, 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 place.”

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 places 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 place during our vacations here years ago. A secluded waterfall tucked away in the forest, accessible 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 hour later, 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, occasionally 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 experiences later, finding our way back to a place 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, splashing 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 flat rock and comes to stand beside me. “Some things don’t.”

We stand there for a moment, just soaking in the view and the memories it brings. The last 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, laughed as we jumped from that small cliff into the pool, shared a picnic on this very spot.

I close my eyes, letting the sounds and smells of this place 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 place—a restlessness, a yearning, a pulling toward… something.

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 had come a few weeks earlier, we might have been able to swim…

There’s a sudden splash behind me, and I whirl around just in time to see Arthur’s head break the surface of the water. He’s stripped down completely 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 splashes 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,” he laughs, 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, completely 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 down completely, 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!”

Arthur laughs, 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 splash 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.

What follows is what I can only describe as a splash war, both of us laughing 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 plastered to our heads, underwear completely 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 as heat builds between us.

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 the layers 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.