She painted…. us. In the closet. Her mouth turned up in a smile, her eyes closed For the first time in five years, the looks truly peaceful and happy in this image, and yet for some reason, I found her tearing it to shreds like she’d gone rabid.
My throat bobs as I finally look up at her. She’s sitting on the daybed, trembling, her paint–stained hands gripping her knees. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”
I think I have a pretty good feeling as to what came over her, and it’s my fault. I should have explained the situation to her when I got home, but I was overcome with thoughts and just needed to rest.
But I couldn’t sleep. I never can without her or Miles by my side.
“You didn’t wake me,” I say, gingerly setting aside the piece of canvas. I swallow hard, then decide to just tell her outright. “Iris, I ended my contract with Selina.”
Her eyes turn to saucers, fresh tears misting over the familiar honey color. “What?” she breathes, her voice hardly more than a whisper. It’s as if she’s not sure if she can believe it or not.
I don’t have the strength to tell her everything. Not in detail, anyway. So I just say, “Selina developed feelings for me, which goes strictly against our contract. I ended things. It’s going to be finalized tomorrow.”
So does that mean…”
I nod, taking a tentative step closer to her. “Selina is no longer engaged to me,” I say quietly.
Iris stares at me, a million different emotions seeming to war on her face at the same time. Finally, she lets out a shuddering little sound that’s almost like a sob, and hunches over. A fat tear drops onto her leg.
Without thinking, I rush forward, dropping to my knees in front of her and gathering her into my arms. She doesn’t fight it as I pull her close, stroking her chestnut hair.
I hold her like that for several long moments, cradling her slender frame as she quietly cries. I’m not sure if they’re tears of joy or sadness, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s crying, and she needs me, and I’m not fucking going anywhere.
Finally, once her breathing has evened out a little, I pull back slightly. “I want you and Miles to stay with me now,” I say firmly. “We should be together.”
There’s a strange look on her face, and she hesitates. “Publicly?” she chokes out. “If we get back together, we won’t have to hide away? Would you still view Miles as your true heir or would you want a werewolf surrogate?”
The barrage of questions leaves me taken aback. For starters, Miles is a werewolf, not a human like Iris has always thought. I want to tell her the truth, but… something in me hesitates.
If I tell her that I know, will she accuse me of only wanting her back because our son is a powerful Alpha wolf?
Right now, everything feels so fragile, so tentative, that I make the snap decision to keep that tidbit to myself. Just until I can figure out the best way to do it. So instead, I say gently, “Having an Alpha heir or not wouldn’t affect my love for you both.”
Iris blinks and sniffles. “But what about us? I don’t want to be your secret family anymore.”
At that, I hesitate once more.
Ordan isn’t ready for a human Luna. If I came out with Iris as my official wife, then I could potentially lose my office as President. Iris and Miles might even be in danger. Our society has taken great strides socially over the decades, but we’re still not there yet. Not by a long shot.
+25 BONUS
Chapter 119
My hesitation makes Iris’s face pale, her tears instantly drying. I can tell I’ve hurt her. Deeply.
Suddenly, she stands, brushing past me. “I have to go to bed,” she says, leaving.
“Iris, wait-”
But she’s already gone, something fluttering out of her pocket as she leaves. I pick it up, and am shocked to see that it’s a business card.
Hunter Maverick.
The famous artist from Ordan–the same man she was dancing with tonight.
What are her intentions with him?
