Chapter 94

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 collarbone. His brow furrows as he examines a particularly long scratch down my arm. “They’re healing already, actually. Faster than they should be.”

I glance 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 black 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 planned 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 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 accident. 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?”

“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 explain.”

“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 words come 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… compelling. I would have done the same thing in your place. I just wish you’d told me you were planning 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.”

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 the last one,” he murmurs, stepping closer so that his chest brushes my back. “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 legs hit 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.

“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.

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 into my mouth.

“I did all of this for you,” Arthur murmurs between kisses. “The announcement, the gala—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. I 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 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, but his body isn’t the most effective shield. “Mother. Father. I wasn’t aware you were attending tonight.”

“Clearly,” Leonard says dryly.

I 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 internet 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 display.

Arthur steps forward, placing 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 the ladies’ room. Everyone is talking about it. Although…” She pauses, glancing at me again. “I suppose you’ve comforted 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.