Iris
I scrub the serving dish harder than I should, hardly even noticing as the scrubber leaves scratch marks in the ceramic.
The dinner was a disaster. Not just the burnt roast–although that certainly didn’t help–but the whole evening. Leonard and Wendy might as well have worn signs around their necks that read “Your Human Mate is Inadequate.”
Every glance, every comment about my “small” apartment, every remark about Miles‘ eating habits… it all added up to the same conclusion: I’m not good enough. Not for them, and not for the public.
The front door opens and closes softly. Arthur is back.
“Need some help?” he asks, appearing in the kitchen doorway.
I shake my head without looking up from the sink. “I’m almost done.”
Arthur grabs a dish towel anyway and picks up a rinsed plate from the drying rack. He starts drying it, falling into the familiar rhythm we used to have when we lived together. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. You’re scrubbing that dish so hard you’re going to wear right through it.”
I sigh and drop the dish back into the soapy water. “I just… I wanted them to like me. Or at least not actively dislike me.”
“They don’t know you yet,” Arthur says, but there’s something off in his voice, something hesitant.
I turn to look at him, water dripping from my hands. “What did they say to you outside?”
Arthur’s jaw tightens. He sets down the plate and towel. “Nothing worth repeating.”
“Arthur.”
He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in that way that usually makes my heart flutter. Tonight, it just makes him look
stressed, which makes me stressed.
“They think Miles needs more Alpha influence in his life,” he finally says. “More werewolf guidance.”
I can tell he’s watering down whatever they actually said. “And?”
Arthur sighs. “And they think I should… take a more active role in his upbringing.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” I cross my arms, water droplets from my wet hands soaking into my sleeves.
“They suggested that perhaps Miles would be better off living with me full–time.” Arthur’s expression is pained. “With only
occasional visits from you.‘
1/3
The words hit me like a slap across the face. “So they want you to take Miles from me.”
“It’s not going to happen,” Arthur says quickly, grabbing my hands. “I told them absolutely not.”
“But they suggested it.” My throat tightens. “They want you to use the Alpha’s Heir laws against me. Remove the imperfect human mother from the equation.”
Arthur sighs. “Iris, trust me. It’s never going to happen. I would never do that to you–to us.”
I pull away from his touch, needing space to think. “They really hate me that much? They barely know me.”
“They don’t… hate you,” Arthur says, but I can tell he doesn’t really believe it. “They’re just… set in their ways. They have certain expectations of what an Alpha mate should be.”
“And I’ll never live up to those expectations.‘
“)
Arthur doesn’t deny it.
I sigh. “What about Miles?” I ask. “Do they at least accept him?” I think that I could live with Arthur’s parents disliking me as
long as they love Miles. But Arthur opens his mouth, then shuts it again, clearly struggling with a response, and I know that they
don’t approve of our son.
I lean back against the counter, suddenly exhausted. “Maybe this was all a mistake.”
Arthur’s face falls. “What was?”
“Going public. Pushing you to acknowledge me. Miles and I were safe before, anonymous. Now we’re targets.” I think about those
women in the bathroom, tearing at my dress, their claws aimed at my face. About Leonard and Wendy, suggesting Arthur tear our
son away from me. “Maybe you were right when you said it was best to keep us hidden.”
“No,” Arthur says firmly. “I want you by my side, Iris. Publicly. Proudly. I’m not going back to hiding you away.”
“Even if it means alienating your parents? Your supporters? Having people constantly judge your choice of mate?”
“Even then.” Arthur steps forward again, and this time I don’t pull away when he takes my hands in his. “In fact, I’ve already
taken the next step.”