hapter 23
However, over the last 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 a complete 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 glass 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 become a famous artist, but it doesn’t mean that I wasn’t surprised when I saw her seminar on the
internet 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 fireplace. 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
- 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.
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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 she comes 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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