Chapter 193

Iris

Ezra’s sudden appearance takes me by surprise. The last time I saw him was at Arthur’s office, when I slapped Veronica across the face and stormed out. That feels like a lifetime ago now, although it’s only been a matter of days.

The fact that he’s grown a short, scruffy beard and looks like he’s aged five years since then certainly doesn’t help any, either.

“Ezra,” I say flatly. “What are you doing here?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “May I come in? I need to speak with you about something important.”

I hesitate, glancing back toward the stairs where Miles is still in his room. I have a feeling Ezra is going to ask me for help again, help that I’m not particularly keen on providing after what happened before, not by any fault of his. But as usual, my curiosity wins out.

“Fine.” I step aside, allowing him to enter. “But keep your voice down. Miles is upstairs, and he’s already upset enough as it is.”

Ezra nods and follows me into the living room. He looks around, taking in the space that still bears all the signs of Arthur’s presence—photos on the mantel, his books on the shelves, the expensive leather couch he insisted on buying years ago because it matched his office furniture.

“How are you holding up?” Ezra asks gently.

“How do you think?” I respond more sharply than I mean to. I cringe and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I’m not mad at you, it’s just... It’s been a rough morning. Miles just found out his father is marrying someone else, so…”

“I understand,” Ezra says, sitting on the edge of the couch. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his usually immaculate appearance now slightly disheveled. It’s weird seeing him dressed in a loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans rather than his usual navy blue suit. “That’s actually why I’m here. It’s about Arthur.”

I sigh and sink into the armchair across from him. “I figured. What’s going on now?”

Ezra takes a deep breath and says, “Iris, I want to serve you now instead of him.”

I blink at him, certain I’ve misheard. “Serve… me?”

“Yes. As your Beta, if you’ll have me.”

A startled laugh escapes me. I’m not an Alpha. Women are rarely Alphas, no matter how advanced our society has become. And in this day and age, it’s usually only the President who gets a Beta. “Ezra, I understand you’re distraught about what happened between you and Arthur, but—”

“It would only be temporary,” Ezra clarifies. “But I believe I can help you, and in turn, help both Arthur and Ordan. If you’ll have me, that is.”

I frown, but gesture for him to continue.

“You’re Arthur’s mate—his true mate, regardless of what he’s saying now—and that gives you a connection to him that no one else does. And more importantly, you’re becoming a symbol to the people of Ordan.”

“A symbol?” I repeat skeptically. “Of what, exactly? Public humiliation?”

“Of resistance,” Ezra says. “That slap has caused quite the stir in Ordan.”

“I’m aware,” I say dryly, thinking of the tabloid headlines. The Jewel Killer. As if I’d ever try to poison someone.

“What you might not be aware of is how divided public opinion actually is,” Ezra continues. “Yes, many people have taken Veronica’s side, but even more are quietly supporting you.”

“Supporting me? After I physically assaulted the future Luna?”

Ezra nods. “Some believe Veronica set out to ruin you and Arthur’s life, as well as Ordan itself. They see you as having an understanding of what it’s like to be poor in this world—a figurehead representing the lower classes of our society. And recent events have only strengthened that belief.”

“What recent events?”

“Arthur and Veronica went on an expensive overseas trip two days ago, shirking all of his presidential duties. They still haven’t returned.” Ezra’s expression darkens. “It’s becoming clear to everyone that Arthur and Veronica don’t care about the small folk of Ordan. That Veronica, especially, has always had an agenda to line her own pockets while people suffer.”

“And let me guess,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “You want me to do something about it.”

“Not just me. The people want you to do something,” Ezra explains. “You’re the wronged mate. The abandoned mother. The human orphan turned wealthy werewolf heiress. It’s the perfect storm for you to strike back. If you can help stop the wedding and save Arthur, the people will love you. They’ll see you as Ordan’s savior, as a true lover of the small folk. Your reputation will be saved.”

“My reputation?” I echo with a mirthless laugh. “I don’t give a damn about my reputation anymore, Ezra. I care about my son, who’s upstairs crying because his father abandoned him. Besides, this public life was never for me. I’m not cut out for it. I think I’ve proven that on many occasions.”

Ezra’s face softens. “I understand that you feel that way, although I disagree. But think of it this way: I’m not asking you to do this for the glory or the public acclaim. I’m asking you to do it because it’s the right thing. For Miles. For Arthur. For Ordan.”

“What exactly are you suggesting I do?” I ask.

“Help me stop the wedding. Help me save Arthur from whatever hold Veronica has on him.”

I stare at him, wondering if he’s lost his mind in the past week. “And how am I supposed to do that? Show up at the ceremony and object? Somehow I don’t think that would go over well.”

“No, nothing that dramatic,” Ezra assures me. “All you need to do is get Arthur away from Veronica for a few minutes. Just long enough to remind him of your love, of what you had together.”

“That’s it?” I ask skeptically.

“I’ll handle the rest,” Ezra promises. “But you’re the only one who can accomplish the first part. You’re his mate, Iris. His true mate. If anyone can break through whatever spell Veronica has cast, it’s you.”

The earnestness in his eyes makes me pause. He really believes this. He really thinks I can save Arthur.

But I made a promise to myself not to bother with Arthur anymore. For my sake. For Miles’ sake. I swore I’d put that chapter of my life behind me and focus on building a quiet, peaceful existence for my son and me.

And yet…

I recall the she-wolf’s warning. I recall Miles’ dream about Arthur being trapped in a dark place, about the she-wolf helping to free him. If that was truly a prophetic vision, then perhaps I need to help ensure it comes to fruition.

Maybe the she-wolf in Miles’ dream isn’t just a symbol. Maybe it’s me.

“Iris?” Ezra says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Will you help? Will you let me serve you? Serve Ordan?”

I think about Arthur—the real Arthur, not whatever puppet Veronica has turned him into. I think about the way he looked at me when we first met, about the way he held Miles when they were finally reunited, about all the love and pain and joy we’ve shared over the years.

Despite everything, despite the hurt and betrayal, I can’t just abandon him if he’s truly in trouble. I can’t let Veronica destroy him and the city I love along with him.

And if this is an opportunity to clear my name, to stop being the “Jewel Killer” and start being the hero of this story… Well, I suppose that wouldn’t hurt either. And even if I never set foot in the public eye again, not intentionally anyway, then at least I won’t be plagued with so much bad press and hatred that could potentially ruin my son’s life.

For Miles. For Arthur. For Ordan.

“Alright,” I finally say, nodding. “Just tell me what to do.”