Chapter 131

Iris

By the time we return to the ranch house, my legs feel like jelly. I never realized horseback riding would use so many muscles that I didn’t even know I had. Arthur and Miles, of course, seem completely unaffected, which is annoying but also very unsurprising.

“Did you see how fast Thunder went, Mommy?” Miles chatters as Arthur helps him down from the horse. “We were flying!”

“You most certainly were not flying,” I reply, grimacing slightly as I slide off of Buttercup’s back with the ranch hand’s assistance. My thighs scream in protest as my feet make contact with the floor. “And I’m very glad about that.”

The ranch hand chuckles. “You did great for your first time,” he says while he begins loosening the girth on his horse’s saddle. The horse lets out a huff of relief. “Most beginners don’t make it through a two-hour trail ride.”

“I’m pretty sure I only made it because I was too scared to fall off,” I mutter, but I’m secretly a little proud of myself. After the initial terror wore off, I actually enjoyed parts of the ride—especially seeing that magnificent wolf.

The memory of her golden eyes meeting mine still sends a shiver down my spine. I’m still debating painting her, but… I’m not sure yet. Maybe a sketch just for me would be okay.

Once we’ve thanked the ranch hand and seen the horses safely returned to the stables, Arthur announces he’s going to fire up the grill for dinner.

“How does steak sound?” he asks, already rolling up his sleeves.

Miles jumps up and down. “With french fries?”

“With whatever you want, buddy,” Arthur says, ruffling his hair.

I settle into one of the comfortable rocking chairs on the back porch, a glass of iced tea in hand, and watch as Miles runs wild across the expansive lawn. I’ll never understand his boundless energy, but it’s nice to see him have some space to really run without the worry of passing cars.

Arthur tends to the grill on the stone patio, occasionally glancing up to check on Miles. The sight of him with his sleeves pushed up, a white apron on that says “Kiss the Chef”, and his hair tousled by the breeze makes my heart do funny little flips in my chest.

I can imagine countless vacations just like this one: Miles growing taller each year, learning to ride his own horse, exploring the mountains, swimming in the lake we passed earlier. Arthur teaching him to fish, to build a campfire, to identify the constellations in the clear northern sky.

Me, finally finding the courage to tackle Buttercup solo, maybe even enjoying it someday.

And that wolf… does she have her own pups? Will we get to see them grow up? That would be magnificent.

Dinner is a lively affair, with Miles recounting every detail of our trail ride as if Arthur and I hadn’t been there ourselves. The steaks are perfect—Arthur really does cook the best meat—and even the simple salad and fries I threw together taste better in the fresh mountain air.

After we eat, Arthur builds a small fire in the firepit, and we roast marshmallows as the sun sets behind the mountains. Miles gets sticky melted sugar all over his face, hands, and somehow even in his hair, which warrants an emergency bath before bedtime.

By the time we tuck him in, he’s practically asleep already, worn out from the day’s adventures. I brush the hair off his forehead and plant a kiss there, marveling as I always do at how much he looks like his father when he sleeps.

Arthur and I tiptoe out, leaving his door cracked just enough that we’ll hear if he wakes up in the middle of the night.

“Want to stargaze?” Arthur asks softly.

I nod, and we make our way back outside. The night has grown chilly, so Arthur grabs a blanket from the living room. We settle onto the porch swing, the blanket wrapped around our shoulders, my head resting against him as we gaze up at the star-strewn sky.

Without the light pollution of the city, the stars are breathtaking—countless glittering points of light against an inky black darkness. I spot Orion, the Big Dipper, and a few other constellations I remember from our previous trips here.

We rock in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the chorus of crickets and the occasional distant howl of a wolf. Once again, my mind drifts back to the she-wolf we saw earlier.

“Arthur?” I say, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think… Do you think my wolf will ever emerge? Or is it possible that I’ll be one of those wolfless people?”

It’s uncommon, but not completely unheard of; there are people who possess werewolf genes but never have a wolf. No one’s really sure why it happens—some claim that their wolf’s spirit abandoned them, that it’s some kind of omen or something to be ashamed of—but it does occasionally happen.

He glances at me. “Where’s this coming from?”

I shrug. “Just curious. I mean, if my wolf hasn’t shown itself so far…”

Truthfully, it’s a fear I’ve been carrying silently since discovering my heritage. My parents are both powerful werewolves. Caleb can shift with ease, or at least so I’ve heard. Even Miles already shows signs of having a wolf, like when he was able to recognize Arthur as his father right away and having a proclivity for eating meat, despite being so young.

But I’ve never even felt an inkling of a wolf inside of me. It’s why no one ever thought I was anything but human for so long.

Arthur turns fully to look at me. “First of all,” he says, “there’s no doubt you’re a werewolf. The DNA tests confirmed it, and I’ve seen your eyes glow.”

“That was one time, and you said it was just for a second. It could have been a trick of the light—”

“I know what I saw, Iris,” Arthur insists. He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns my head to make me look at him. His eyes are soft, but shimmering like the stars overhead. “It was beautiful.”

I duck my head, oddly embarrassed. “But what if glowing eyes is all I ever manage? What if I never shift?”

“Then you never shift,” he says simply. “It doesn’t change who you are, Iris. It doesn’t make you any less of a Willford, or any less of my mate.”

“But wouldn’t you be disappointed? To have a mate who can’t shift?”

Arthur sighs softly. “Listen to me. I fell in love with you when I thought you were fully human, remember? When I believed we could never share that part of my life. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now.”

“But—”

“I need you to know that even if your wolf never fully emerges, it won’t change how I see you or how I feel about you. Not one bit.”

In this moment, under the vast canopy of stars with Arthur’s eyes fixed unwaveringly on me, I feel a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly takes my breath away. For the first time since we reconciled, I feel truly, completely safe in us.

Safe enough to finally say the words I’ve been holding back.

“I love you, Arthur,” I say softly. “I never stopped, not really. Even when I tried to hate you, I loved you.”

Arthur goes perfectly still beside me. This is the first time I’ve said this since the breakup. He’s said it before, but… I didn’t have the strength or the confidence to say it back. I feared that if I did, if I said the words out loud, it would open me up to more heartbreak. That it would be too vulnerable.

“Say it again,” he whispers.

“I love you,” I repeat with a quiet giggle.

A smile spreads across his face, so radiant it could outshine the stars above us. Without warning, he stands, pulling me to my feet with him.

And then, he scoops me into his arms. The blanket falls forgotten to the porch floor. He carries me across the porch, through the front door, and down the hallway toward our bedroom.

“I love you too, Iris. And I’m going to show you just how much I do.”