Chapter 201

Arthur

The woman in the baby blue dress leads me toward the dance floor, and all I can do is stare at the back of her head and stumble after her. Half of me feels like I should pull away and return to Veronica’s side, which is where I truly belong but the other half refuses to leave this woman.

It’s as if some deep, hidden chasm in my heart is suddenly filled with this woman who I hardly even recognize.

As she pulls me through the crowd, I take a moment to study her from behind. Something about that blue dress feels strangely familiar, like a half-remembered dream from a long time ago.

Who is this woman? And why does my heart lurch when she turns to me and pulls me closer?

I swear, for a moment, that her face is familiar… But it feels fuzzy and far off, as if it’s been fading out of my memory by the day. There’s something about her eyes, though—a soft amber color, like warm honey.

They’re looking up at me, misted over with tears, and filled with an expression that only one word can describe.

Love.

Does this woman love me?

The word does something strange to my heart as she takes my hand and places it on her waist, then places her other hand in my palm. I know I shouldn’t be doing this—I belong with Veronica—and yet it feels so… right.

Everything about her seems to fit to me like a puzzle piece. Her slender waist fits perfectly in my hand. Her smaller fingers are curled exquisitely around mine. I swear we were made for each other, as if we were…

Mates.

That word cracks something inside of me, like lightning splitting across a dark sky, revealing a memory that doesn’t feel like my own.

…

Six Years Ago

I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my tie as I waited outside Iris’s apartment building. It was our first real date—not talking for hours over cheap coffee while she worked at the diner, but an actual evening out. I’d made a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town, hoping to impress her.

When she finally emerged from the building, I nearly dropped to one knee and proposed right then and there. She was wearing a baby blue dress that hugged her waist like it was made for it, her strawberry blonde hair falling in elegant waves around her shoulders. She looked more nervous than she had before, tucking a strand behind her ear as she approached me.

“You look beautiful,” I said, and immediately felt like an idiot for stating the obvious. Maybe I was nervous too and just didn’t want to admit it.

She blushed and ducked her head slightly. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Arthur.”

Dinner was… perfect. We talked about everything and nothing—her art, books we’d been reading, my classes—I was finishing up college at the time—and even stupid, embarrassing stories from our childhoods that had us both crying from laughter.

And her laugh. Goddess, she laughed at all my terrible jokes, and I especially loved it when she would throw her head back and laugh without restraint.

I found myself hanging that sound, and on every word she said. When she got excited about something, her whole face would light up, and I couldn’t look away. When she talked about art, she would gesture so wildly she would almost knock over our drinks. If she had stained my suit with wine, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have gladly ruined my appearance if it meant hearing her rant about her favorite things all night.

But by dessert, her shyness had returned. She stirred her tiramisu without really eating it, her cheeks flushing as she quietly admitted, “I’ve never really dated anyone seriously, you know.”

“Why not?” I asked, stunned. It blew my mind that someone like her wouldn’t have men lining up around the block. Even if she hadn’t been my mate, my young Alpha heart would have tried to at least get one date out of her.

She shrugged and glanced up at me through her lashes. “I guess I was always waiting for… I don’t know. Something real.”

The way she said it, looking at me with a tiny smile tugging at her lips, made my wolf stir restlessly in my chest.

“Mate,” he whispered. “She’s ours. We should mark her tonight.”

The idea of marking her, right here and right now, sent a thrill through me. But I pushed that thought away. I knew she was my mate, of course—I had felt it the moment I met her—but I didn’t want to scare her away with my intensity.

She was a human, after all. Did she even feel the same level of attraction I did? Did she look at me and want to die for me the same way I did when I looked at her? I didn’t know how intense mate bonds could be for humans; many wolves claimed that humans couldn’t possibly feel the full intensity of a mate bond, that it was nothing compared to two wolves.

But the way she looked at me… she had to feel it. No one looks at anyone like that unless they’re completely smitten.

After dinner, we walked through the downtown area; it seemed neither of us really wanted the night to end. The streets were quiet, most of the shops closed, but there was a small park with a fountain in the center. Someone was playing a violin by the fountain.

“Want to dance?” I asked, holding out my hand.

She blushed. “Here?”

“Yes. Here.” Before she could protest, I pulled her close, one hand on her waist, the other holding hers. We swayed together slowly as the violin notes floated up into the air, and even once the musician stopped and packed up his instrument, we continued to dance.

Neither of us spoke as we swayed beneath the stars. We didn’t have to. I’d never felt so content, so perfectly at peace. Being with her felt like finally finding my home.

When she finally pulled back to look at me, her eyes were glimmering like tiny stars. “Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re my mate.”

Her words opened a dam inside of me. I cupped her face in my hands, and I didn’t hesitate—I couldn’t. I leaned down and kissed her. It was soft at first, tentative, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she kissed me back, her arms winding around my neck and pulling me closer.

Suddenly, she tilted her head, exposing her neck. My wolf howled at me to mark her, and I couldn’t contain myself anymore. I leaned down and kissed her neck, right where it met her shoulder, and she shivered, even whimpered softly.

She didn’t need to say it out loud; I knew she wanted me to mark her. And as I tentatively bit down, making her mine, I knew that we would always be together. She was my mate, my one true love.

My one and only.

…

The memory of that night is so vivid and real that for a moment I forget where I am. The gallery, the gala, everything else fades away, leaving only the woman in my arms and the overwhelming feeling of recognition.

Iris.

My Iris. My mate. The mother of my child. The woman I’ve loved since I was twenty years old, the woman I promised to love forever.

She’s my one and only. I can’t have another—it’s impossible, and I would never want it to begin with.

The fog in my mind still tugs at me, but it’s clearer now, as if her eyes are two beacons glinting at me through the mist. I blink, confused, and look around. Where have I been? What have I been doing? How long has it been since I’ve seen Iris?

“Iris?” I breathe. My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. It’s rough and cracked, like I’ve been huffing paint for weeks on end.

She goes still, her hands tightening around me. When I look down at her, there’s a single tear trailing down her cheek. My heart shatters. I never want to see her cry. I never want to make her cry.

What the hell have I done?

“Yes,” she whispers. “It’s me.”

“But how… where have I… what happened to me?”

“Not here,” she says, glancing around at the crowd. “Too many people. Come with me.”

She takes my hand again, and this time I don’t hesitate. I let her lead me away from the dance floor, away from the crowd, away from…

Veronica.