Chapter 64

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 access 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 feel completely 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 the lace of my bra beneath. Something low and strangled rumbles in Arthur’s chest, and his hand cups my breast, making my own whimper of pleasure come out.

His lips move lower then, his fingers deftly slipping the lace aside to expose my breast. Before I can reach, his mouth latches onto the soft flesh, tongue swirling around my nipple.

I let out a choked gasp, clamping one hand over my mouth to stifle my cry as my other hand comes 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 collar bone. I know just how to trail my fingers over the nape of his neck to make him shiver pleasantly, and how he particularly 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, reality comes 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 familiar comforts 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, completely and utterly ashamed.

I may be his mate, bound to him in ways that no one else could compare. 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.

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 glances up at me through her lashes, a small smile playing 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 becoming 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 to come up with a plan 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 flash. “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.