Chapter 157

Iris

For a moment, I just stare at the ruined dress, unable to process what I’m seeing. How could this happen? Did it somehow fall into the fireplace on its own? But who would hang it right in front of the fireplace anyway? Nora wouldn’t do that, right? Did someone else move it?

I tug the dress free from the charred garment bag, wincing as bits of blackened silk crumble between my fingers. The entire bottom half is destroyed, and smoke damage has stained the bodice as well. There’s no saving it now.

“Oh no,” I whisper to myself. The gala is in just a few hours. I’m going to have to find another dress, but I don’t really have any clothes here, and I don’t have much time to run home to find something else.

Just then, I hear footsteps in the hallway, and my mother appears in the doorway. Her smile falls as soon as she sees me kneeling on the floor, holding the ruined dress.

“Iris, what on earth—” She stops, taking in the scene. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I came in to check on the dress and found it like this. Half of it was still in the fireplace.”

My mother rushes over and examines the damage. “That’s a crying shame. But I think I have something you can wear,” she suggests after a moment. “We’re about the same size.”

She takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom. Her closet is more of a room in itself, with rows upon rows of designer clothing, shoes, and accessories.

“I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” she says, moving to the back of the closet. She pushes aside several evening gowns and pulls out a garment bag. “I think it might be perfect for tonight.”

She unzips the bag to reveal a stunning royal purple gown. The fabric shimmers subtly in the light, with delicate crystal beading along the bodice that looks like stars scattered across a night sky.

“Oh, Mom,” I breathe, reaching out to touch the velvety fabric. It’s cool and smooth beneath my fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

“I bought it for my fortieth birthday gala,” she explains. “But then I changed my mind and went with something else. I’ve never worn it.” She holds it out to me. “Try it on.”

I take the dress carefully and head to her en-suite bathroom to change. Indeed, it fits like it was made for me, hugging my curves in all the right places. The crystals catch the light with every movement, and the subtle flare around the ankles makes it float when I twirl.

When I step back into the bedroom, my mother gasps. “Oh, Iris,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “You look absolutely stunning.”

I turn to look in the full-length mirror, and for a moment, I hardly recognize myself. It’s perfect—even better than the dress that was ruined.

“It’s like it was made for you,” my mother says, coming to stand behind me. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I’m struck by how similar we look—the same heart-shaped face, the same slender stature, similar golden hair, although hers is much more brilliant than mine. For so many years, I wondered where I got my features from, and now I know. I wonder if I’ll look even more like her once my wolf comes out. If it ever does.

“Thank you,” I say, turning to face her. “Not just for the dress, but for… everything. For welcoming me back into your life, for loving me as if we never lost all those years.”

My mother’s eyes shine with unshed tears. She cups my face and strokes my cheek with her thumb. “Oh, my darling girl. You never have to thank me for that. You’re my daughter. I’ve loved you every day of your life, even when you weren’t with me.”

I lean into her hand as she murmurs, “I missed so many moments with you. Your first steps, your first day of school, your first heartbreak. I can’t get those back, but I’m here now, and I plan to be here for all the moments to come.”

My throat tightens. “I’d like that.”

She smiles, wiping away a tear that has escaped despite her best efforts. “Speaking of moments to come… any chance I might get to see you in a wedding gown soon?”

I feel my cheeks flush. “Mom!”

“What?” she asks innocently. “You and Arthur have been back together for a while now. You share a child. It’s not an unreasonable question.”

I bite my lip, unable to suppress a small smile. “We haven’t really talked about it. But… I hope so. I hope he asks soon.” I think back to all the tiny hints, wondering if I’m just reading into them, but I hope that’s not the case.

My mother’s face softens. “He will. That man is head over heels for you. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

The thought warms me from the inside out. Arthur and I have been through so much together, and despite everything—or perhaps because of it—our bond has only grown stronger. The idea of making it official, of becoming his wife, makes my heart race excitedly.

A knock at the door interrupts our moment. Before either of us can respond, the door swings open, and Veronica steps in.

“Aunt Maeve, I heard there was a dress emergency—” She stops short when she sees me, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh. You’ve already solved it, I see.”

“Veronica,” my mother greets her with a smile. “Yes, we had a bit of a disaster, but we managed to find a solution.”

Veronica steps further into the room, looking me up and down. She’s wearing an exquisite crimson designer gown. I try not to think about how it looks eerily similar to the one I saw in my dream. Minus the blood, of course.

“That dress is stunning on you, Iris,” she says. “It brings out your eyes.”

Despite myself, I feel a flicker of pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you.”

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a small velvet box. “I brought these, just in case you needed something to cheer you up after the dress fiasco.”

She holds the box out to me, and I take it with some surprise. Inside is an enormous pair of diamond earrings—large teardrop-shaped stones that catch the light and throw rainbows against the wall.

“Veronica, I can’t accept these,” I say, stunned. “They must be worth a fortune.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “They’re just something I picked up on a whim. They’d look beautiful with that dress, don’t you think?”

A whim. Six-figure diamonds on a whim.

I glance at my mother, who gives a small nod of encouragement. “Try them on,” she suggests.

Hesitantly, I remove the earrings and slip on Veronica’s gift. The diamonds dangle just below my earlobes, heavy but luxurious. When I look in the mirror again, I have to admit they complete the look perfectly.

“See?” Veronica says, smiling. “They were meant for you.”

I’m touched by the gesture, but there’s still that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach—the one I always get around Veronica. It’s like jealousy mixed with distrust, although I have no real reason to feel either emotion. Veronica has been nothing but kind to me, despite what the papers say about our supposed “feud.”

She’s my cousin. Everyone loves her. We’re partnering for this gala to help children across Ordan. She just gave me an extraordinarily expensive gift for no reason other than simple kindness.

So why do I still feel so odd around her?

I push the feeling away, forcing a smile. “Thank you, Veronica. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome, cousin,” she says, then glides out of the room without another word.