#CHAPTER 1: Results

Iris POV

Pregnancy Test Result: Single Live Intrauterine Pregnancy

Species Test: 99% Probability Human

Alone in the doctor’s office while she got me some medicine, I read the simple lines of text several times before they truly made sense.

I was carrying a child.

I looked at the second line again, a smile breaking out across my face. A human baby born of me and Arthur, my fated mate.

I had to tell him right now.

I dialed his number with fingers that shook slightly, glad I was already sitting down. A bubble of happiness swelled up from my heart, and I released it with a laugh. The phone, however, went straight to voicemail, meaning his phone was off.

Swallowing my disappointment but all too aware that Arthur tended to avoid distractions while at work, including just ignoring my calls, I tried to keep my voice cheerful.

“Arthur, it’s Iris. I know you’re busy, and I wish you good luck with the candidacy, but I have some news for you. Great news.”

I pressed my lips shut. Voicemail was not the way I wanted to tell him. News this good needed to be told in person.

“Anyway, please give me a call when you hear this. Love you.”

I hung up and wrapped my arms around myself tightly. I felt ready to explode. If it were a normal day, I would hop in my car and drive to Arthur’s office.

But it wasn’t a normal day. Arthur was meeting with election officials and members of his party to see whether his bid as a presidential candidate would be accepted. A powerful alpha werewolf since his birth, he’d been working toward this goal his whole life, and there was no question he would make an exceptional leader.

This was no time for me to be pestering him, even if this were the best news of my life.

But tonight, when he returned home with his good news, I would tell him mine. Our good news.

The doctor returned with a smile and handed me a bottle. “Take two of these with food twice a day for your nausea.”

“Can you tell how far along I am?” I asked.

“Four weeks. I’d like to see you and your husband back here next week so we can go through your schedule for the next nine months.”

“He’s not my husband yet, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with that.”

She opened a folder and studied some pages in a failed attempt to hide her look of disapproval. “He’s human, I presume?”

“No, an Alpha werewolf,” I said. She looked up in surprise. “We’re fated.”

Her smile looked more genuine now that she knew I wasn’t some “human living off the system” but a future mother fated to mate with a socially prominent werewolf. This was providence working its magic.

“Such a rare and lovely match! Tell Brett to arrange that appointment, but call me if you aren’t feeling better with the medicine.”

I kept smiling as I walked to my car. Arthur would be so happy, and I knew he would be a wonderful partner in this pregnancy.

Although I was human and Arthur was of course a werewolf Alpha, lending him the highest possible social status, I had always believed that we could handle any judgment or prejudice our still somewhat hierarchical society might throw our way.

Because we love each other. Despite our polar opposite upbringings, fate had plans for us, drawing us irrevocably and irresistibly towards each other.

Besides, things were changing. Even fifty years ago a human-werewolf relationship such as ours, fated-mates or not, would have been seen as a laughable embarrassment for any Alpha. Though progress was slow, it was tangible, as humans began to prove themselves worthy of more than just positions of subservience.

Yes, both humans and werewolf-classes alike still preferred to mingle mainly amongst their own kind, Alpha’s being particularly notorious for this, but I had always chosen to focus on the progress, rather than the challenges humans still faced in our society.

On the drive home, I started to think about our wedding plans.

Arthur and I had been together for a year now and moved in together six months ago. It’s quite a long engagement for fated mates, but as a human, I’m fine with taking it slow. Now with the child, I guess we had to think about getting married.

I pulled up in front of our house and looked it over with new eyes. It was a two-bedroom. Would we need to get a bigger place now?

But then, if Arthur were to become the next Alpha President, we’d be living at the President’s Residence in the capital for the next ten years, twenty if he were re-elected. It was enough to make me giddy.

I set my purse down and went into the kitchen. I made myself a cup of herbal tea. No caffeine or alcohol for me for a while. I realized I was humming the Beatles’ song “Penny Lane” and laughed.

“You’re in a good mood,” a familiar and beloved voice said from behind me.

With a little squeal, I turned around, cup in hand. Arthur looked magnificent in his dark gray suit that set off the width of his shoulders and the trim lines of his waist and hips. More than that, he looked happy, his face uplifted by one of his rare deep smiles.

“You got it?”

He gave a little bow. “You are now looking at the latest and greatest candidate for Alpha President.”

I set down the cup and ran to him to wrap him up in a hug. He laughed, a rare event, and kissed me so deeply my toes curled. When he raised his head, I smiled into his face and wondered if our baby would inherit his dark hair and even darker green eyes.

“Your voicemail said you had news as well?” he asked.

I nodded, and it felt like I had champagne in my blood. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the report. Looking puzzled, he took it from me and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the page, and his smile disappeared.

I noticed his body going stiff and his dark brows pulled down in a frown. He looked at me, and his expression was shuttered.

“You're pregnant?” he asked flatly. “With a human fetus?”

“Well, yes, but don’t call it a fetus. It’s our baby, our perfect little baby.”

He looked back down at the test results, and now his eyes were hard and cold.

“Arthur?” I asked, my whole body going cold. “What’s wrong?”

#CHAPTER 2: A New Reality

Iris POV

I waited for an answer, but Arthur just looked at me, his expression going from cold to unreadable. I was going to insist he say something when someone knocked loudly on our door. Arthur turned and opened the door wide, smiling his professional smile as several people came through.

I recognized some of them from articles and TV interviews where they’d been discussing Arthur’s possible candidacy, but others were strangers. They were all obviously, though not ostentatiously, wealthy, and they were all alphas, except two beta males who acted like assistants to their alpha bosses.

Feeling the pressure to be a gracious hostess, I stepped forward and welcomed them all to our home, but they only made the briefest eye contact with a few nods and then seemed to forget I existed.

“So, you’re the human?” one of them asked with that haughty but not quite insulting disdain I was so used to from alphas. He was about Arthur’s age but not quite as tall and sporting well-coiffed light brown hair.

I said something about my name, but no one seemed to notice that either.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and have a rest?” Arthur turned to me, and I was hoping he would use the moment to introduce me properly, but instead he said, “We can continue what we were talking about later.”

I wanted to protest, to point out that as his future wife and mother to his child I had every reason to remain with these people as they discussed Arthur’s future. But Arthur’s eyes had gone cold, not the ones that I familiar with, and with reluctance I agreed, stepping back from a part of Arthur’s life I had never truly realized before excluded me.

Yes, I thought as I climbed the stairs with what felt like lead in my shoes, my life with Arthur had always been private, but I had never thought he was ashamed of me or wanted to hide me from the other people in his life. Had I been naïve? Those alphas hadn’t treated me with the respect one would give to a housemaid.

I went into the main bedroom to change out of the suit I’d worn to the doctor’s and put on my jeans and paint-splattered smock, which made me feel better right away. My canvas was as I had left it, washes and waves of bright colors that would become the background to the field of wildflowers I was painting to celebrate my recent BA in fine art.

Growing up, I’d always known I wanted to paint. The only true obstacle was money, but I’d worked hard and received several scholarships to get through college in four years.

It took a little longer than usual, but eventually I was lost in my art, what Arthur liked to call my “other-world trance.” The brush was an extension of my body that allowed me to soar and dance.

I was painting in oils, which I ground and mixed up myself, and the images on the canvas were coming together just as I wanted.

I breathed in the smell of linseed oil, which I knew some people found harsh, but it was an old friend to me, like an actor and the smell of greasepaint, I supposed. It was the one area of my life where I had found praise and appreciation even from betas and alphas.

I found myself wondering if any of the Alphas downstairs liked art before sternly telling myself I didn’t need their approval.

I found it much harder to concentrate than usual. I’d been given two great pieces of news with the baby and Arthur’s candidacy, so why was I feeling so alone, so far removed from my mate? I scowled at my canvas. The joy I was trying to show wasn’t coming through; the lines looked uncertain and confused.

I painted undisturbed until the sun went down, powering through until I was a little happier with the painting, if not with my situation in general.

Painting in artificial light had never worked for me, even when my subject was abstract. I crept down to the kitchen and made a sandwich, listening to the murmur of the alpha’s voices in the living room, then went back upstairs and looked over the canvas I was prepping before giving it a good sanding.

I went to bed alone, feeling cold and unsettled. Much later, well past midnight, Arthur joined me, his body a little damp from his nightly shower. Still mostly asleep, I rolled over then and put an arm over his chest. He responded immediately, chuckling softly, and held me back tenderly.

I was half asleep, so it was not a good time to discuss our baby, but I felt my fears dissipate somewhat as he kissed my chin, my forehead, and then my lips. His warm hand ran over my shoulder and around my back, and again I was pleasantly overwhelmed with the sensation of the way my fated mate just fit against my body and, I presume, my soul. He pulled down the strap of might nightgown and kissed my shoulder, then down to my beasts, which he bared to the cool air of the room and his own warm breath.

I shivered, and I felt him smile. But even as I responded to his touch, I wondered how real this was.

I was still feeling that ambivalence the next morning, but I waited Arthur and I both had a little coffee before I asked, “Are you ready to talk about the pregnancy now?”

“Yes, we do need to talk,” he said, “but I have to get to the office.”

“I see. This evening, then?”

He shook his head and looked at his watch. “I have an alpha gathering and fundraiser this evening after work at the Waldorf, so don’t wait up for me.”

“The Waldorf?” I repeated, smiling at him with gritted teeth. “Sounds like fun. I’ve never been there.”

He shrugged and then drained his coffee. “Alphas only, like last night. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.”

I wanted to say he could introduce me to his friends and then I would have many people to talk to, but instead I pressed him for at least some feedback about our child.

He took his briefcase off the counter and checked inside. “If you want to keep it, I’ll cover all expenses, of course.”

“Expenses?” I asked, deeply disappointed and not bothering to hide it.

He looked up then. “Children are expensive, and my child should be raised with care and respect. You’ll need to step up for at least this year while I campaign.”

“But we’re fated mates,” I objected. “Shouldn’t we get married when we’re having a child?”

He looked at me sternly. “Voters will not like a human Luna.”

My mouth opened in shock. “That is so discriminatory! You told me you would be running on a platform for human-wolf equality!”

He looked like he restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “There’s a big difference between championing for people’s rights and shoving a human Luna down their throats.”

“What did you just say?” I leapt up from my stool and stood there.

He waved at me, using the motion to check his watch. “Look, I’ll easily be able to give you a million dollars for raising the kid,” he said, lingering slightly on the human slang for “child.” “That’s more than you’ll need.”

I almost threw something at him. “This is about your fatherhood to our child, not money.”

“Look, I have to get to work, and I’ll be working a lot more for a while. You tend to things as you think best.” He stood and grabbed his briefcase, and my anger just kept me standing there to watch him walk out of the kitchen. I heard the door to the garage open and close.

In a sort of fog, I cleaned up the plates from breakfast. What was happening? Was I the mother of his child, his fated mate, and his future wife, or not? And if not, what the hell was I?

I sat on the sofa in the living room, unable even to gather myself enough to paint. Nothing made any sense, and everything I had thought my life was wasn’t real. I was too stunned even to cry.

There was a brisk knock then, and I walked robotically to the front door, wondering if Arthur had forgotten something. A tall, beautiful alpha woman stood there.

“Hello?” I asked her. “May I help you? Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Selina,” She said with a polished smile, “Arthur’s fiancée. I came to see who I’ll be sharing my husband with.”

#CHAPTER 3: Phone Call

Iris POV

“What?” I asked, though I wasn’t any more shocked than I had been before opening the door.

Life had lost its context. This was just something on top of what had already occurred.

“May I come in?” she asked even as she strode past me with a whip of blond hair and whiff of expensive perfume. I watched from behind as she walked to the sofa, her long legs impeccably cased in black velvet pants and her top covered in wispy layers of purple silk. She set herself down.

“Do you have any coffee?” she asked.

“You’re going to marry Arthur?” I asked as I pushed the front door closed.

“Yes, and soon.” She looked smug. “At first, of course, when I heard he had some human lover he adored, I said no way, but then the situation was explained to me, and well, being Luna isn’t something one just turns down, is it?”

She frowned and looked at the armchair that so perfectly matched the sofa. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

I walked over to the chair and sat. My feet felt a little numb, and so did my fingers.

“So,” she said the second I was in the chair, “he’s told me you’re pregnant, so obviously we need to talk about that. Also, do you have some sort of career you’re pursuing?”

“I think I need to talk to Arthur before you and I talk further,” I said.

“Call him,” she said with a shrug.

It was difficult to retrieve my phone from my pocket and dial Arthur with my numb fingers, but I managed it. It went to voicemail.

“I need to wait for him to see my number and call back.”

Selina snorted, looked at me with pity, and then pulled out her phone, which I saw she put on speaker after dialing a number. It rang twice.

“Yes, Selina?” Arthur’s voice asked, and my stomach sank. It was clear which of us Arthur took seriously.

“Honey,” she said, smiling at me in triumph. “What time are we going to see the engagement dress and rings tomorrow?”

Arthur sounded a bit impatient but replied, “Ten-thirty.”

“I’ve already booked the seaside mansion for the engagement party.”

“Do whatever you want,” he said, and I could see the expression easily on his face. “I’m hanging up.”

She made a little-girl face and spoke in a slightly higher voice. “Haven’t you told your little lover about this yet?”

“Her name is Iris.”

Selina raised her eyebrows at me as if to say I should be happy he admitted it. I didn’t care.

“And I told you, she doesn’t need to know.”

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave you once she finds out?”

“She needs my money.” Arthur’s response was quick and certain. “With student loans and a child on the way, how could she leave?”

Ah, I thought, and I found myself nodding as some things started to make sense, not the least was his offer of a million dollars to meet my “need.” That was evidently how he really saw me: not a future artist he was helping to meet her goals but just some gold-digging parasite. Did he think our child was a parasite too?

Selina was still talking into the phone “About the child, I’ve thought it over. I don’t want Iris to give birth before our wedding. It would be a scandal.”

“Forcing a woman to have an abortion is illegal, even a human one.” I noticed his tone was angry. He was probably worried people would find out and it would hurt his campaign. “Be careful you don’t end up in jail.”

So. Numb throughout my body now, I tried to make myself accept that Arthur didn’t want the child, and his only concern was avoiding legal trouble. I opened my mouth to tell him I was there and had heard every word, but Selina just made a kiss-kiss noise into the phone and ended the call.

“Well, I can’t force you, it’s true,” she said to me, “but you really need to scrape that thing out of you before it causes Arthur trouble. Besides, that my husband will have a human mistress is bad enough; I don’t need a child in the mix.”

She flung her hair behind her left shoulder, a well-practiced move. “Well, Arthur obviously doesn’t want to be the villain here, so as his fiancé, I will, but not heartlessly.” She laughed with a little trill.

“You’ll be living with us, I suppose, so the best story will be for you to be my assistant. I have one already, but another would be helpful.” She shrugged. “So, while I get a contract drawn up complete with NDA, get the fetus aborted and name your price.”

OK, even as a human facing an alpha, I had my limits about being humiliated.

“I’ll take a billion dollars at the end of the week to start, and then we can discuss my salary.”

Selina looked at me as though I’d peed on her shoe, which actually would be quite satisfying.

“I can’t get a billion dollars together in a week!”

I told her, “Then you can’t afford my child or afford me as your assistant.”

“This is ridiculous,” she announced, standing and flinging the strap of her Channel purse over her shoulder. “I’ll have Arthur deal with you.” In a few long strides of her legs, she left, slamming the door shut behind her.

Or rather, she would have, but I caught the door and called after her, “But don’t worry, I just want to talk to Arthur one more time. If Arthur really just wants to keep me as a mistress, I’ll leave soon.”

She didn’t bother to answer, probably thinking I was saying I’d leave to bargain for money.

I didn’t want money. I didn’t want some alpha woman smiling while she destroyed my life. I wanted an explanation, a conversation. I wanted to know my relationship with my fated mate wasn’t going to end so poorly.

But then Selina paused and turned with an even bigger smile than before. “You should attend the party this evening. There, you can talk to Arthur all you like.”

“Arthur said it was alphas-only.”

She laughed. “There will be plenty of your rank there, trust me.” Then she executed a perfect runway turn and walked toward a red sports car parked on the street.

I remembered the party would be at the Waldorf, so I didn’t have to ask anyone for the address.

Alone in the house, I bathed and shaved my legs and spent way too much time on my makeup. I had a very nice party dress in a red so deep it looked almost black, off the shoulder with a full skirt, a classic. I put it on almost defiantly, trying to find more strength inside.

I was going to a party, and I was going to enjoy it, damn it. I slid into my best shoes and called for an Uber.

The Waldorf was ablaze with lights and sparkling people. I went to the front door with my chin up and walked through the lobby refusing to make eye contact with anyone. At the door of the ballroom itself, however, I was stopped by a hotel employee dressed in red and black.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said. “Humans require an alpha escort beyond this point.”

That strength I had stoked up inside drained away. Even dressed to the nines, I was being rejected out of hand. I stared at his polite but distant eyes. He was an omega, it was easy to see. I wanted to touch him to see if he flinched from being sullied by a mere human like me.

This is Arthur’s world, I thought, something I had never thought before during all our time together. He thinks I have no place here. Maybe he’s right.

“Iris?”

A familiar voice called my name from behind me, and I turned in surprise.

#CHAPTER 4: Invitation

Iris POV

My friend and former senior classmate Brian Eldridge was standing there in a tuxedo, his salt-and-pepper hair, which was usually a sort of disheveled halo around his head, had been neatly combed, and his typically paint-smeared hands were clean and with shiny, recently manicured nails.

“Brian?” I asked.

He smiled at me and then looked beyond me to the hotel employee. “She’s with me,” he said with authority.

I was surprised again. Brian was an alpha? People at the university assumed Brian was a beta, and he didn’t correct them. But then, he might have faced some pushback on that; alphas rarely went into the arts.

It wasn’t “powerful” enough for them.

He held out his arm for me now, which I took. “You look lovely tonight, Iris,” he said.

“You clean up nicely yourself,” I said back with a smile as he led me inside the room, which was lavishly decorated and absolutely teeming with party-goers. Selina had been right: many were obviously not alphas.

“What brings you to this boring all-alpha shindig, my dear?” Brian asked.

“My fated mate is here,” I said firmly. Selina might marry him, but I had been chosen for him. I still had that.

“Who is that?” he asked in pleased surprise.

“Arthur Daven.”

Brian stopped in his tracks and looked at me with a complex mix of emotions. “Presidential candidate Arthur Daven?”

“The same.” I gathered myself, waiting for him to laugh or look at me with pity.

He did neither, saying, “I see.”

I waited as people near us danced and drank and traded favors.

“The party tonight is in celebration of Arthur’s candidacy as well as to announce his engagement to Selina Willford,” Brian said, and I wondered if my shattered life were showing on my face.

This time I was the one who said, “I see.”

He was obviously picking his words with care. “It’s well known in the Alpha circle that Arthur and Selina have been engaged since they were fifteen.”

I nodded and somehow kept my expression pleasant. Fifteen. That means this isn’t because of his presidential run or his corporate plans.

Then came an even worse thought: Arthur was engaged when we met. All the alphas knew, but I was never important enough to tell.

No wonder he had been so resistant to our relationship when we first met. He must have been so disappointed I was human. He had probably thought he was doing me a favor making me his bed-warmer.

Brian looked away from me, and I saw Selina step up on the little stand where the small band had been playing. The music stopped, and she smiled out over the crowd.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight,” she said, her powerful alpha voice easily reaching out to the crowd. “As so many of you know, Arthur and I are here not just to thank you for endorsing his candidacy for Alpha President but also to join us in celebrating our official enouncement for our formal engagement celebration, which will happen next month on, of course, the full moon.”

There was wild applause and hearty congratulations all round. I watched as a smiling Arthur stood with Selina, champagne in hand. Confetti fell, and the crowd cheered. I had never seen Arthur look so happy.

I couldn’t believe no later than this morning I had thought our child would bring Arthur and me together in marriage. He had never intended to be with me. I felt a stabbing pain in my heart followed by another in my stomach.

I felt a wave of dizziness pass through me, and I remembered I had eaten nothing since breakfast that morning. But the pain in my stomach intensified, and I was unable to stop the blackness that filled my eyes.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My bed was in a private room, I saw right away, and there was a large window to my right through which I could see dawn breaking.

On my left was a figure it took me a minute to recognize, wanting it so desperately to be Arthur. But it was Brian who sat there, still in his tuxedo.

His kind eyes watch me struggle fully awake.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You fainted, my dear girl,” he said gently.

My face flooded with heat. “In front of everyone?”

He shook his head. “You were very graceful, and a caterer helped me get you out of the room. Considering all the celebrating, I don’t think anyone really noticed.”

“Well, I have that,” I said faintly.

Brian looked at me in concern. “I had to say I was family to stay with you, and the doctor told me about your pregnancy. She also said you were dehydrated.” He nodded to the IV hooked up to my arm.

“I see,” I said. I was saying that a lot. I shook it off. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“I confess, I was more than a little concerned when you said Arthur is your fated mate. Did you really not know about Selina?”

I shook my head.

“So.” He sighed. “You’re unmated, pregnant, and, if you’re like me, awash in student loans.”

I nodded and felt my stomach churn with anxiety. Tears were forming in my eyes, and everything just seemed so bleak, even hopeless.

The silence was getting unbearable when Brian spoke. “I think you should leave Arthur.”

I stared at him in shock.

“I know your plans after graduation were to hold your first off-campus exhibition,” he said next. “I told you I would help with that, and I meant it.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, starting now to feel numb. “You’ve changed your mind?” Was I not worth his trouble now?

He looked surprised. “No, I still mean it. I just, well, are you thinking you’ll be keeping the child?”

I straightened my spine. “Absolutely.”

He nodded, looking more serious than I was used to from him. “I guessed as much. Surely, though, you realize that with the scrutiny on Arthur now, your status as his fated mate even as he marries an alpha will probably get out?”

“Yes.” He was right to look serious. I wiped at my left eye as a teardrop welled out.

“So, let me help you properly,” he said. “Yours is a rare and priceless talent, and Ordan is a great country in many ways, but its insistence on keeping obsolete traditions even as politicians give lip service to wolf-human equality.”

Was there some hope in all this after all? “What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m one of four children,” he said, “so the family business hardly rests on my shoulders. Bo’Arrocon is a smaller, less wealthy country than Ordan, but it’s a wonderful place to live and has an amazing art culture. I’m moving there to join an art incubator program.”

He smiled, warming to his topic. “Each month, artists receive a modest but quite livable stipend to support their work with the goal of a major exhibition in two years, and they welcome humans and all wolf classes without prejudice.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I said honestly.

“You, my dear, would shine there. I know it.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He nodded and took my hand. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I went to the party last night in great part to say goodbye to some friends. I’m turning it into a road trip, seeing the sights, and it will take about three weeks.”

He smiled. “Come with me.”

“Me?” I asked dumbly.

“Yes.”

I tried to take in what he was saying. “Just go?” I asked. “Tomorrow?”

The mere idea of leaving Arthur created a physical pain in my chest, and now I was crying in earnest. Brain held on to my hands and murmured, “It will be all right.”

“But I have nothing planned or sorted, and my paintings are still at the school.”

Lying there looking at my friend, I couldn’t think of a better plan, but I also didn’t want to burden Brian with my troubles.

Brian smiled at me with open compassion. “If money is an issue, I have some I can lend you. You’ll pay it back with no trouble once you start showing your work. And I can get your paintings professionally packed with mine and delivered to us.”

He shook his head. “But you can’t stay with an alpha like this just because you haven’t planned for this and you loved him. Growing up as an alpha, I’ve seen a lot. You will definitely regret it if you chose to stay now, and soon.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, well aware my face was wet and swollen from crying. “Yes, please, and thank you so much.”

I had actually already been invited to the program by the Bo’Arrocon Art Foundation a few months ago, but I had turned it down, not wanting to be away from Arthur. Lying there looking at my friend, I felt I didn’t want to burden Brian with my troubles, but I also couldn’t think of a better plan.

He looked happy, and, even better, he looked proud.

The dawn turned into proper morning as I got discharged from the hospital and had Brian drive me home. The second I saw the house, I realized Brian was right; just thinking about this home with its happy memories was killing me.

As Brian said, the paintings at my drawing studio would be packed and sent later together with Brian’s. I just left the unfinished ones where they were. I thought about the confused and cautious lines on my current canvas. I wouldn’t made never seeing that work again.

I packed up the best of my supplies and some clothes.

I realized I was leaving the house as though I were guilty of something, so I pulled out my phone and called Arthur. Of course, he didn’t answer. I saw on my news feed that word had already broken about Arthur and Selina’s engagement, describing them as a perfect match.

Feeling even colder inside, I sent a text: Let’s break up now.

I looked around my—Arthur’s bedroom to make sure I hadn’t left anything important behind. The sense of loss was almost overwhelming, but I knew this was the right thing to do. The alternative was unacceptable.

My phone rang. It was Arthur.

It was the fastest he’d ever called me back after a missed call.

#CHAPTER 5: An Empty House

Arthur POV

I woke up in my office lounge, my neck stuck to the leather and my whole body cold. My mouth tasted like stale champagne and way too much small talk.

A gentle knock on my office door got me sitting up on the couch. “Come,” I said.

My assistant, a solid beta named Jose, entered my office and smiled. “Congratulations, sir. The news is buzzing about your engagement to Selina Willford. You’re being called the perfect couple!”

I smiled and thanked him, all the while silently cursing Selina for deciding on her own to tell the world about us. She’d kept the news of our betrothal to herself for years, but she couldn’t have waited a couple days so I could break the news to Iris?

“I’ll bring you some coffee,” Jose said before turning to walk out.

I was going to tell him to bring a pot when he suddenly came back, holding my personal phone.

“Sir, I rejected Iris’s call earlier, like usual, but I think you need to take a look at this….”

I always had Jose filter my personal calls when I was working. If he thought it was important, it must be.

I started to feel a little uneasy. What had happened with Iris?

I grabbed the phone from him, and my heart sank as I saw the message from Iris: Let’s break up now.

“What the hell?” I growled, hackles raising. Was this some sort of joke? Break up?

I quickly called her back, but the phone went to voicemail. What was Iris thinking? What was she doing?

I ended up grabbing a cup of coffee from Jose’s hand as I rushed out of the office. “Get my car!” I called back to him.

I made it outside and waited for the car to be pulled around. Standing there, I dialed Iris again and again ended up with voicemail.

“Iris,” I said into the phone, “call me back immediately. I’m on my way home now.”

The car arrived, and I got behind the wheel with a low growl. I couldn’t drive in a panic. It was bad enough I was being seen in a formal shirt and tuxedo pants in public in the morning. I looked like I was taking a walk of shame.

No, I told myself, there was no way Iris really wanted to break up. I wasn’t going to marry her, true, but I was still rich and powerful, and she needed someone to help with that baby she was insisting on having.

No, she would be there at home waiting for me, and when I got there we would talk. I would make her see reason, offer her more money, and everything would be find.

I said it aloud in the car: “Everything will be fine. I’ll explain, and it will all be fine.”

Money. I knew that was the key. Iris had many wonderful qualities, and she was by some cosmic joke my fated mate, but I knew money was her top priority.

We’d met at a restaurant when she’d come to my table and asked if I wanted something to drink to get lunch started. I’d looked up and known, and she’d done pretty much the same. Fortunately, I’d been dining alone.

In those early days when we were getting to know each other, I’d come to the restaurant often enough to become a “regular,” often getting kidded by other servers about my relationship with Iris, who had told me she was an art student.

About two weeks in, I’d been sitting at my usual table waiting for her when I heard her talking in the passage between the kitchen and the dining area. She hadn’t known I was there yet, and they were all congratulating her on “landing” such a catch. Many of them had artistic careers, mostly actors, and they were talking about how I could support her.

To my discomfort, she’d agreed, laughing about how I would give her a secure future so she wouldn’t have to starve for her art. The servers had all laughed until the manager came over and told them to stop congregating in the passage and get back to work.

Iris had emerged then, tray in hand, and shot me a casual smile of greeting when she saw me sitting there. I knew my place in her life then and though it was almost as disappointing as when I’d realized my mate was human, I just left without saying anything.

At home, however, I’d realized her desires to be secure financially were reasonable. Relationships could be transactional; it was just my reaction that was excessive. I even realized I should have been relieved because Iris wouldn’t mind that I was marrying for political reasons as long as I kept her bills paid.

Knowing money controlled Iris meant I only needed to give her enough to keep her. I didn’t think about children, particularly that she would have a human fetus, but that just meant more money.

All would be well, I told myself, and my shoulders relaxed a I pulled into the driveway of our house.

But the moment I opened the door from the garage into the foyer, I knew something was wrong. To begin with, the house was empty with no other heartbeat but my own. Next, there was a staleness to the place, as though it had been deserted.

I walked into the living room where something tiny on the coffee table caught my eye. I picked it up and saw it was a SIM card. Had Iris left this? Had she done it so I couldn’t trace her location?

Had she really, actually left me?

My phone rang, and I reached for it eagerly, but it was only Selina.

“Yes?” I asked her.

“Why aren’t you here?”

“Where?” I was looking around to see if anything were missing. I decided to check upstairs.

“At Tiffany’s, of course. We’re supposed to be choosing the engagement ring, remember?”

“What did you say to Iris?” I demanded.

“What?”

“She’s gone. You did this. What did you say to her?”

“Well, didn’t have to say much. I just gave her some money and told her to end the pregnancy and never come back. She seemed happy to go.”

I stood halfway up the stairs. There was a watercolor hanging on the wall, a school project of Iris’s. “Happy?” I repeated.

“Yes. She jumped at the money, actually. We signed a contract, and we don’t have to worry about her bothering us again.”

The watercolor blurred, but it wasn’t tears that filled my eyes, only fury. That gold-digger had taken the fastest route out of our relationship despite my wealth, despite my care of her. Had she even hesitated before agreeing to leave?

Had she ever really cared about me at all? Let alone love me, the way she kept insisting?

Well, I wasn’t going to get any answers out of the damn watercolor.

“I’ll be at Tiffany’s soon,” I told Selina and ended the call. Then I dialed a new number.

“Yes, sir?” Jose asked.

“Iris has left. I need you to find her. I don’t care how much it costs.”

#Chapter 6: Five Years Later

Iris

Five years have gone by since that fated day. Five years, and hardly a day has passed that I haven’t thought about it, about the pain that I felt in my chest I drove away from that house and the way my tears blurred the streetlights all around me.

But life goes on.

It’s been two years since I last set foot in Ordan, the city I used to love, but now I’m back. I only came back for my exhibition at the Ordan Modern Art Gallery—otherwise, I probably wouldn’t bother. This city smells like heartbreak to me now, and if this exhibition didn’t mean so much to me, I would have declined the offer. I’ve only been here out of utter necessity over the past five years. But I couldn’t turn down this opportunity.

The Marsiel Gallery is a large and brilliantly designed space, and since getting my degree five years ago I’ve dreamed of one day showing here. And now here I am, watching as the staff hang another of my over-sized canvases right where I’ve indicated on the pristine white wall.

I’m happy. My paint-stained overalls are covered in dust and dirt and there’s a hole in my favorite yellow sweater now from carrying artwork, but I can’t help but smile.

That is, until someone mentions him.

“The Alpha President and his fiancée still aren’t married,” I hear one of the gallery assistants say to another in passing, and my smile immediately fades.

Arthur.

Just thinking about him sets my heart racing, although I feign indifference. I don’t need to hear about his life, his fiancee, or his kingdom.

“I could use a snack,” I say suddenly. “Anybody else want something from the machine?”

“A Coke sounds good,” one of the assistants says, and I tak everyone’s orders and refuse offers of money, saying I’m happy to treat. Walking away, I hope they’ll pick another topic of conversation before I get back.

Even now, five years later, I still hate him. And what makes me hate him even more is that I still fucking love him.

He’s my fated mate. Of course my heart still flutters whenever I think about him, even if I want to wring his neck for the way he treated me.

When I first ran away with Brian, I tried not to look at Arthur’s face on the news, but I looked anyway. Brian even tried to stop me a few times, telling me that it wasn’t good for my mental health. But over time, I realized that I couldn’t help it. I told myself that I was just curious about the political climate in Ordan, but Brian and I both know that was a lie.

I just wanted to see if Arthur would take back the things he said. If, in some show of true love, he would turn to the camera and say, “Iris, please come back. Please. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

He never did, of course. He never even mentioned me in any of those interviews.

With a sigh, I make my way to the vending machines. I pick out an orange juice and a cookie for myself, along with everyone else’s orders, then pile everything into my arms and begin heading back to the main area.

That’s when it happens.

Fate always has a funny way of manipulating the situation, doesn’t it?

As if on cue, my foot catches on a wet floor sign, and I go pitching forward. Before I can stop myself, all of the snacks I’m carrying go flying, the orange juice in particular rolling across the floor and running into a perfectly polished black loafer.

I don’t need to look up to see whose foot that shoe belongs to, but against my better judgment, I do anyway.

He’s standing in the center of a group of people who have now gone silent, and slowly bends down to pick up the juice.

I almost consider running away, right out the front doors and all the way over the border to Bo’Arrocon without looking back. But I don’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because my body won’t let me.

Because there, now staring at me with those dark green eyes and that black hair falling into them, is Arthur.

I can’t tell if he’s surprised or resentful. Maybe both. And I feel the same.

Before I can get away, Arthur notices me. “Iris,” he says in a light tone of voice. He picks up the juice and holds it out to me.

“Is this what you left me for?” he asks, those green eyes flicking over me. His voice is somehow even deeper than I remember, and he has stubble across his sharp jaw that wasn’t there before Devilishly handsome, as they say. Emphasis on devil. “Orange juice and a sweater with holes in it?”

There’s a bitterness in his voice that cuts deeper than I care to admit.

I frown and yank the juice away, although the way our fingers brush isn’t lost on me. I tug my cardigan tighter around myself, as if that’ll somehow keep his gaze from burning straight through me.

Of course, I know I don’t exactly look like a model right now. My chestnut brown hair is in a messy braid over one shoulder, I’m not wearing a lick of makeup, and I have dark circles under my eyes from the early train ride into Ordan. It’s not the vengeful meeting I had planned in my head.

But somehow, I manage to keep my composure—maybe because my mind has finally won out over my heart and I just want to fucking leave.

“I left you for more reasons than orange juice and sweaters, Alpha President,” I grind out, emphasizing those last two words, before promptly turning on my heel and striding away.

I’m not even sure where I’m going. I’m fully aware that the only thing in the direction I’m walking right now is the storage room behind the gallery, and that I’ve just left the snacks all over the floor. But I don’t care; I just want to get away.

Arthur’s gaze follows me the entire time, and I swear I can feel it even after I’ve turned the corner.

Once I’m out of sight, I lean against the wall and take a deep breath, shutting my eyes and tilting my head back. I clutch the orange juice to my chest, suddenly feeling like I’m about to pass out.

I didn’t want to see him ever again. I shouldn’t have come back here. And yet, no matter how much I hated that interaction, I almost wish it wouldn’t be our last.

But that’s just my heart talking again.

My heart, which I buried in stone five years ago.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Brian, telling me that he’s passing by and can pick me up. I happily agree and tell him to meet me at the gallery entrance, and I’m glad to see that Arthur and his gaggle of admirers is gone as I scurry toward the front door.

But it’s not Brian’s car that I see pull up when I step down to the sidewalk, inhaling the cool night air.

It’s a sleek black sportscar. A really, really expensive one.

And when the window rolls down, who else would it be except for fucking Arthur?

“Get in, Iris,” he says with all the calmness of someone who’s discussing the weather.

I frown and fold my arms across my chest. “Piss off.”

He sighs like he’s talking to a grumpy toddler. “Come on, Iris. You’ve been living like this for five years now—poor, struggling, and alone. It’s time to come home now.”

Despite myself, I can’t help but laugh. So he still thinks that I’m nothing more than a gold-digging whore. And beyond that, he seems to think that I’m living paycheck to paycheck, struggling and all on my own with no one to care about me.

Well, he’s dead wrong. And he’s about to find out, because Brian’s car pulls up to the curb behind him. The back door opens, and a little boy with brown hair and big blue stumbles out.

I grin, turning to him and crouching, holding out my arms. He flings himself against me.

“Mommy, we missed you so much, so we came with Daddy!”

“And I’m so glad you came, kiddo,” I say, ruffling his hair. Arthur’s sharp inhale, of course, isn’t unnoticed.

“Mommy?” Arthur blurts out, climbing out of his car. “Daddy?” And then, here’s the kicker: “We?”

I don’t have to answer him, because a moment later, Brian gets out of the car. He helps a little girl out of the back seat, holding her against his chest as he strides up to us.

“Iris, darling, sorry to keep you waiting.”