Chapter 17

Iris & Arthur

Iris

“Who is Caleb?”

Arthur sighs. “He’s Selina’s brother,” he says, sinking down into his chair. He looks more weary than he did a little while ago.

I’m not surprised by that tidbit of information, though. Whoever Caleb is, he sounds as if he’s certainly in a position of power. If not in title, then at least in influence, being Arthur’s fiancee’s brother and all.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it,” Arthur suddenly says with a wave of his hand. “You don’t need to do anything.”

It seems like he’s dismissing me, so I rise from my seat. Arthur’s green eyes follow me. But then he says, “Just so you know, it may take some time.”

“How much time?”

“A few days, at least,” Arthur replies. “Caleb isn’t just Selina’s brother—he’s the supreme judge of Ordan.”

I furrow my brow, considering. The supreme court of Ordan basically has more authority in the law than even the Alpha President. I find myself wondering for a moment how Arthur came to get engaged to the sister of the judge, but I quickly stop myself.

With a curt nod, I simply say, “I trust you to handle it properly.”

I don’t wait for a response. I turn on my heel and leave, and once I’m back on the crowded city street, I pull out my phone and send a quick email to the gallery curator to inform her of the news. Once I’m finished, I slip my phone back into my pocket.

Well, at least one good thing has come out of this. With the gallery shut down until this is handled, I won’t have too much to do here in Ordan.

I think I’ll go home to visit Miles until it all blows over.

…

Arthur

I’m still in shock that Iris came to my office to confront me. It’s already enough that I just found out that Iris is the up and coming artist ‘Flora’ who Selina wanted to endorse us, and now this.

True to my word, I go straight to Caleb’s office to speak with him. It’s an effort to contain my anger as I stride into the space.

Caleb, as the supreme judge of Ordan, technically has more administrative power than the Alpha President. Every law set in motion has to go through the judge and his court. The president can veto the court’s decisions, but it’s not simple.

Of course, I don’t have an issue with this. This system of checks and balances was implemented into our country over a hundred years ago as a way to keep the Alpha President from becoming a tyrant.

As for Caleb, he’s a capable and intelligent man, but Selina has him wrapped around her little finger. She’s almost twenty years younger than he is, and he still views her as his precious little sister.

“Caleb, this is ridiculous and you know it,” I say, my knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of his mahogany desk so hard. “Selina can’t just have you shut down a whole art gallery—one of the pillars of our community, mind you—because she got pissed at an artist.”

Caleb, a man in his forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a neat beard, leans back in his chair and pushes his wire-rimmed glasses up on his nose. If it weren’t for their matching gray eyes, I’d hardly think that Caleb and Selina are siblings at all.

“You must understand, Arthur,” he returns, “that I must handle these matters accordingly when it comes to my sister being wronged. She is the future Luna of Ordan, after all. What sort of a precedent would it set if I let a nobody like Iris walk all over her? A human, no less?”

His tone makes me bristle, but I try not to focus on the racism. “Iris didn’t do anything wrong. She just refused to sell her painting to Selina. Surely you don’t actually think this warrants shutting down an entire gallery.”

Caleb merely shrugs. “The gallery had the chance to remove Iris’ artwork from their walls. But they didn’t, and now they’re facing the consequences.”

“Perhaps they were the ones who did the right thing,” I mutter bitterly.

Caleb seems to stiffen a little at that, but maintains his calm and poised expression. “Arthur, I understand your struggle,” he finally says with a sigh. “You still wish to be entangled with Iris, your fated mate. It’s a perfectly natural feeling. But when it’s at my sister’s expense, I can’t stand for it.”

My jaw clenches of its own accord. Caleb is well aware of the situation between me, Iris, and Selina; he knows how complicated it is, how my bond with Iris is utterly irresistible and how my marriage to his sister is simply for show—a transaction and nothing more.

However, over the last five years, it feels as if Caleb and Selina and their entire family seem to have lost the memo somewhere along the way.

I lean forward, pushing my fingers into the surface of the desk. “Caleb, this is a complete abuse of power. Regardless of my bond with my fated mate, you can’t just shut down a gallery over something as petty as this. You have to allow the gallery to reopen, or you’re going to have trouble.”

Caleb’s eyes flick over me, and he tilts his head in that way that Selina often does. “And what if I say no?”

I feel like I’m going to be sick. Caleb has never outwardly shown that he believes he’s above me in the hierarchical structure, but I’m not entirely surprised. A low noise rumbles in my throat. “I am the Alpha President of Ordan,” I hiss. “Lift the suspension.”

With that, I turn and walk out.

“Don’t abandon a perfectly good situation with a good family for the human girl,” Caleb’s voice calls after me as I storm out. “It wouldn’t be prudent for you, Arthur.”

I don’t stop or even indicate that I’ve heard him.

Later, once the sky is dark and I’ve returned to my penthouse for the night, I’m leaning over the balcony with a glass of whiskey in my hand. The streets of Ordan are lively as ever below, but I feel disconnected from it all. I always do.

Without Iris by my side, Ordan feels hollow. Meaningless. Sure, I love this city and care for all of the citizens as if they were my own children, but my heart isn’t in it anymore.

Five years ago, I might have had the chance to turn around and see Iris painting at her easel, humming to herself. She always smiled when she worked, whether she realized it or not. She was so confident. Beautiful. Shining like the moon in the sky.

I never doubted that she would become a famous artist, but it doesn’t mean that I wasn’t surprised when I saw her seminar on the internet earlier today. She spoke so eloquently, and her work truly was phenomenal. I would have purchased a piece just for myself, if only things were different. But I do have one piece of hers.

Sighing, I move back inside, pausing in front of the fireplace. There’s a painting hanging over the mantle, depicting… me. In my wolf form. The eyes are the most striking green I’ve ever seen, perhaps more striking even than when they glow in real life. To this day, I’m still not sure how she managed to make the color pop so much.

When Iris left, she left almost all of her things behind. I got rid of a lot out of anger, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of this one.

Not because it’s a painting of me—I’m not that narcissistic—but because, if I shut my eyes, I can still recall the night she painted it.

The smile on her face as I shifted and rested my head on her soft thigh. The way her fingers curled through my fur as she carefully painted every detail. The way she stuck her tongue out in concentration.

I’d be the first to admit that Iris deserves everything she’s gotten in her art career. She’s a damn good artist, and speaks incredibly well. She never needed to depend on others to get ahead—she had all the makings of a famous artist on her own.

But why, then, did she leave me for money five years ago? It doesn’t make sense.

Although, I recall bitterly, I suppose it does make sense. Iris just wanted money, nothing more. And the moment Selina offered a grand sum, she took off and got an abortion without a second glance.

Before I can finish that thought, my Beta Mindlinks me.

“Alpha, I’ve contacted the Marsiel Gallery about a second exhibition. They say they’d love to have Iris’ work shown there for a solo show.”

I can’t help but smile a little. I’ve decided that, as an apology gift, I’d ensure Iris an artist residency at Marsiel. I hope it’ll smooth over some of the nonsense with Caleb and Selina, as well as further her art career. It might help the gallery too, after being wrongfully shut down.

“Excellent,” I reply. “When can they give her the contract?”

“They said they contacted her, but she returned to Bo’Arrocan. I guess they’re going to meet in a few days when she comes back to Ordan.”

That gives me pause. Why would Iris return to Bo’Arrocan so soon, and only for a few days?