Chapter 105

Iris

I blink, surprised by Caleb’s presence. His expression is unreadable as he carefully dabs at my shirt, but there’s something in his eyes—a strange intensity that makes me uncomfortable. It’s the same look he gave me at the hospital when we first met.

“Actually, I’ve been hoping to run into you,” Caleb says, his voice low. “Would you mind if we talked for a moment?”

Emi suddenly appears behind him. “Is there a problem here?” she asks.

Caleb’s face pales slightly, but I shake my head and offer her a smile. “Everything’s fine. We know each other.” I turn to Caleb. “What do you need to talk about?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I was actually hoping we could talk in private.”

Hesitantly, I nod and instruct Emi to remain with Miles, handing her the tray containing our food. I follow Caleb out onto the sunlit sidewalk, where our voices won’t be so easily overheard.

“I saw your debut at the gala,” he says. “Quite the impression you made.”

My face heats. “Not exactly how I planned to introduce myself to Ordan society.”

“Few first impressions go as planned,” he says with a small smile. “But you handled it admirably. Arthur must be proud.”

“Did you just want to compliment me, or is there something else you intend to say?” I ask abruptly. Even if Selina isn’t his biological sister, I can’t imagine that the apple falls far from the tree, so it’s hard to trust him.

“Actually, there is something else.” He lowers his voice. “It’s about the DNA test. Iris, you’re a match. You’re my sister.”

I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. I know I took the DNA test during a moment of weakness, but I never actually thought it would come back positive. This has to be some kind of mistake, or maybe even a practical joke. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s true.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded stack of papers. “These are the test results. I had them verified twice.”

My hands shake as I take the documents, scanning the paragraphs. As soon as I see the words—“DNA match: Positive”—I feel the world start spinning around me.

“But… This can’t be right,” I whisper. “I’m human. I’ve always been human.”

“Is that so?” He tilts his head. “Would you have taken the DNA test if you hadn’t any reason to think you might… not be human?” When I don’t respond, he flips to the last page for me and taps the paper. “Read here.”

My throat bobs as I follow where his finger is pointing. “Possibility of Werewolf Genetics: 99.9998%.”

“You’re not human,” Caleb says gently. “You’re a werewolf, Iris. A dormant werewolf, but a werewolf nonetheless. My sister.”

“Dormant?” I choke out. My head is reeling so fast I can barely focus on the papers in my hand. “That’s not possible. I would know if I had a wolf inside me.”

“It’s rare, but not unheard of,” Caleb explains. “Your wolf likely went dormant when you were swapped as a baby—either as a defense mechanism or as the result of something done to you by whoever switched you and Selina.”

I shake my head, eyes still fixed on the results. I think that if I stare at the page for long enough, some kind of hidden clue that this is all fake might pop out. But nothing does. This is real, and…

Dizzying.

Without conscious thought, I sink down onto a bench behind me, still staring at the papers. Caleb takes a seat beside me.

This explains so much. The Mindlink power I used at the gala, the surge of energy I felt last night that made me want to bite my mate, the rapid healing…

“I have to tell Arthur,” I blurt out, reaching for my phone.

But Caleb stops me, his hand curling around my wrist. I blink up at him, and his face is grim. “Don’t tell him yet, Iris.”

“You want me to keep this a secret? From Arthur?”

Caleb nods. “Just for a little while. Until we figure out what this means, and more importantly, who did this to us. Who separated us.”

“But Arthur is my mate,” I protest. “I can’t keep something this huge from him.”

“Iris,” Caleb says, his voice softening, “I know this is a lot to process. I want to help you understand who you are, where you come from. There’s so much about being a werewolf, about our family, that you need to learn.” He pauses. “Come to my home tomorrow night. I can explain everything better there.”

I bite my lip, unsure. “I don’t know...”

“Please,” he says, moving his grip from my wrist to my hand. His touch is warm, familiar somehow, in a way I can’t explain, and strangely comforting. “Let me be the big brother I was meant to be. Just for a few days, until we sort this out.”

The thought of keeping such a massive secret from Arthur makes my stomach twist. But I’m also desperate for answers. This could all be a trap of some kind, and yet I see nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

“Alright,” I finally agree. “I won’t tell anyone, but only for a few days. This is too big to keep from my mate for any longer than that.”

Caleb smiles, looking relieved. “Thank you.” He glances down at my coffee-stained blouse and winces. “I’m sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s just a stain,” I say with a shrug. “It’ll wash out.”

“No, I insist.” He stands, checking his watch. “Do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon? Let me take you shopping.”

I blurt out a laugh despite the situation. “Shopping? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Caleb says, looking oddly adamant. “Consider it my first act as your protective older brother.”

“I don’t need new clothes,” I protest.

“You do, actually,” he counters. “For what’s coming next. The media scrutiny is only going to increase, and you need to be prepared.”

I hesitate. “I have my son with me.”

“Bring him along,” Caleb suggests. “I’d like to meet my nephew properly.”

The word ’nephew’ hits me hard. If I’m truly a Willford, then Miles is not just Arthur’s heir, but a Willford by blood as well.

An hour later, after picking up Emi and Miles, I find myself in one of Ordan’s most exclusive boutiques. Miles is surprisingly patient, occupied with a tablet that Caleb produced seemingly out of nowhere. Emi stands discreetly near the entrance, alert as always. She doesn’t know why Caleb is doing this, other than the fact that he ruined my shirt. I wonder if she’ll report this to Arthur.

As for me, I’ve been extremely quiet since Caleb gave me the results. I feel like I’m in a daze, my mind turning foggy from the force of the revelation. I can’t even think straight, and all I want is to go home and lay down for hours so I can process all of it.

I’m a Willford.

Not just a Willford, but a werewolf.

What the hell is happening?

“That stylist of yours did you a disservice, by the way,” Caleb comments as he sifts through a rack of dresses, snapping me out of my reverie. “I saw the magazine spread, and those clothes they put you in were all wrong for your coloring and body type.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “She seemed to know what she was doing.”

“That’s the problem,” Caleb says, holding up an emerald green gown against me. “She knew exactly what she was doing.”

I frown. “You think it was deliberate?”

“Politics is a dirty game, Iris,” he says, his expression darkening. “And you’ve walked into the middle of it.”

“Those women at the gala,” I say slowly. “They were Selina’s friends, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” Caleb confirms. “But Selina had a lot of supporters at all levels of Ordan society, including within Arthur’s staff.”

“You think someone on Arthur’s team might have...” I trail off.

“Tried to make you look worse on camera? Absolutely.” Caleb selects another dress, this one a deep sapphire blue. “And the women at the gala may have been employed by someone, not just acting in anger over Selina’s accident.”

“That’s a serious accusation,” I say, although I can’t help but wonder if he might be right. The attack had seemed awfully coordinated, like they’d fully planned out exactly how to corner me and humiliate me in the worst way possible.

He holds up the blue dress. “This is more your style. Strong and elegant, but with an artistic edge. You need to cultivate your own image, not be subjected to their styling. Don’t let them strip you of your personality.”

I take the dress from him, running my fingers over the luxurious fabric. It is beautiful, and nothing like what the stylist picked for me. It’s actually something I would wear.

“Try it on,” Caleb encourages. “Along with these.” He passes me a few more items—a sexy, low-cut top, a pair of sleek trousers, and another dress in a rich burgundy.

In the dressing room, I slip into the blue dress, surprised by how perfectly it fits. The cut accentuates my curves without being too revealing, and the color makes my eyes pop. I step out to show Caleb.

“Now that,” he says with satisfaction, “is how the Alpha President’s mate should look.”

I turn to the mirror. “This… feels a lot better,” I admit, meeting his gaze in the reflection. “Thank you for your input, Caleb. I’m sorry if I’m quiet—it’s a lot to process. It still feels surreal, like I’m walking in a dream.”

He merely shrugs. “Like I said, we’ll talk more in private tomorrow.” He pats my shoulder. “In the meantime, rest and give yourself time to think. And remember what I said…”

Caleb leans close, giving me a meaningful look that makes my breath catch.

“Don’t tell a soul,” he instructs. “Not even your mate.”