Chapter 220

Iris

My parents’ grand ballroom is nothing short of a winter wonderland tonight, with silver and white decorations hanging from the high ceiling, icicle lights dripping from the chandeliers, and tall glass vases filled with white roses and silver branches on every table.

My mother really outdid herself this time. No wonder the annual Willford New Year’s Eve party always has such a turnout.

Arthur and I stand near the refreshments table, watching as Miles darts around the room with a very-chagrined looking Caleb in tow. My brother catches my gaze as he passes and rolls his eyes, and I wink.

“You’re the one who said you’d play babysitter tonight,” I coo.

Caleb just groans something about being too old for this nonsense and disappears into the crowd after Miles, who takes off at a sprint when he sees cupcakes on display.

Arthur is smiling, but his eyes suddenly focus on something over my shoulder. “Oh, I think the guest of honor just arrived.”

I turn to follow his gaze and spot a man stepping into the ballroom. Even from across the room, I can see that he’s tall and imposing, with dark hair and sharp features. He appears to be surrounded by a small entourage, all of them dressed impeccably.

“That’s Silas?” I ask.

Arthur nods. “In the flesh.”

“He doesn’t look like the type to accept a peace offering.”

“You never know,” Arthur shrugs. “People can surprise you.”

As we watch, my father approaches Silas with open arms and a wide smile. To my surprise, Silas returns the smile and accepts my father’s handshake. Maybe there is hope for a peaceful resolution after all.

I’m about to suggest we join them when I notice something that makes my breath catch. As Silas turns to greet someone else, the light catches his face in a way that highlights his features.

“Arthur,” I whisper, gripping his arm. “Does Silas look like… you to you?”

Arthur frowns, narrowing his eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

No. I’m not.

The thing is, it’s not even just a passing similarity. The shape of their jaws, the set of their brows, and most strikingly, the shade of their eyes—a clear, bright green that seems to glow in certain light.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that they could be brothers.

Before I can process this further, I hear someone approach Silas and say, “Arthur! I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I thought you were over there with your Beta.”

“See?” I hiss to Arthur, tightening my grip on his arm.

Silas’ face darkens momentarily before he forces a smile. “I’m not Arthur. I’m Silas Creed.”

The man looks flustered. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. The resemblance is—”

“Merely superficial, I assure you,” Silas cuts him off.

I exchange glances with Arthur, who just shakes his head at me and slips away to get another drink to steel himself. He’s already on his third of the night and the party has only just begun.

After that, I find my mother pacifying Miles with treats near the dessert table, looking elegant in a silver gown that complements the party’s theme. Caleb is huffing and puffing nearby, looking more haggard than usual. I sometimes forget that he’s so much older than me.

“There you are!” my mother exclaims, kissing my cheek. “What do you think of the decorations? Too much? I told your father it might be too much, but he gets so particular when he’s trying to impress old friends.”

“It’s beautiful, Mom,” I assure her, kissing her back. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

She pats my arm, clearly pleased with the compliment. “And where’s your handsome mate?”

“Mingling,” I reply. “But there’s something I wanted to ask you about. Have you noticed the resemblance between Arthur and Silas?”

My mother’s smile falters for just a moment. “What? No, I don’t see it. They’re both handsome men, of course, but beyond that…”

She’s lying. I can tell by the way she has suddenly become very interested in straightening the already-perfect row of dessert plates.

“Mom…” I lower my voice. “I swear they could be related. Their eyes are exactly the same color.”

“That’s just a coincidence,” she says dismissively. “Green eyes aren’t that uncommon among werewolves.”

Before I could push further, Arthur appears at my side again. “There you are,” he says, slipping an arm around my waist. “I just spotted your dad talking to Silas again. We might want to make our way closer.”

We make our way across the ballroom to where Silas is still holding court with his entourage. My father spots us approaching and waves us over.

“Arthur, Iris! There you are. I’d like you to meet Silas Creed. Silas, this is my daughter Iris and her mate, Alpha President Arthur.”

Up close, the resemblance between Arthur and Silas is even more striking. Same height, same build, same green eyes. The main differences are Silas’ brown hair compared to Arthur’s black, and the cold, calculating look in Silas’ eyes that Arthur never had.

“Alpha President,” Silas says, extending his hand to Arthur. His voice is smooth as silk, but there is an undercurrent of tension in it. “A pleasure to finally meet you properly.”

Arthur shakes his hand firmly. “Likewise. I’ve been following your campaign with interest.”

Silas smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he doesn’t seem keen on hiding it. “Have you now? I’m flattered.”

“Some of your statements about my administration have been… concerning.”

I glance at Arthur, surprised. That was bold of him. But boldness could be a good thing in this context.

“Oh?” Silas raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “Well, I was merely stating facts. Your recent behavior has been erratic at best, dangerous at worst. The people of Ordan deserve a President who is stable and reliable.”

My hackles rise at his words. The audacity of this man, to stand here in my parents’ home and insult Arthur to his face. I thought he might have a little more tact in person rather than on TV, but I suppose I was wrong.

“Arthur has been nothing but dedicated to Ordan,” I offer. “The circumstances of the past few months were extraordinary and beyond his control.”

Silas’ gaze shifts to me, his green eyes—so much like Arthur’s—boring into mine. “Ah, the human mate speaks. Or should I say, the werewolf who can’t shift? Tell me, how does it feel to be neither one thing nor the other?”

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face.

Arthur takes a step forward, his arm tensing around me. “That’s enough. This conversation was meant to find common ground, not trade insults. Iris has nothing to do with the election.”

“Common ground?” Silas laughs coldly. “There is no common ground between us, Arthur. I intend to crush you in this election. By the time I’m done, your reputation will be in tatters, and no one in Ordan will remember your presidency with anything but shame.”

The intensity of his hatred is startling. It doesn’t make sense—Arthur has never even met him before today.

“What have I ever done to you?” Arthur asks, clearly as confused as I am.

Silas’ face hardens. “It’s not what you’ve done. It’s who you are.”

“And who am I, exactly?” Arthur challenges.

For a moment, something flashes in Silas’ eyes—something that looks almost like pain. But it’s gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Silas says cryptically. He turns to my father. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Francis.”

With that, he turns and strides away, his entourage scrambling to follow.

“Well,” my father says after a moment of shocked silence. “That didn’t go as planned.”

Arthur is still staring after Silas, his brow furrowed. “What the hell was that about? You’d think I kicked the guy’s puppy or something.”

I shake my head, equally baffled.

My father clears his throat and turns to Arthur. “Walk with me.”

Arthur glances at me, and I nod, letting them go. I watch my father and Arthur make their way through the crowd, chewing my lip the whole time. That was a strange and uncomfortable interaction to say the least. The thought of a vile man like that leading Ordan feels wrong. I wonder if Arthur still plans to step down from the election if that’s going to be his only opponent.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

I spin around at the sound of the voice, and when I see the face I haven’t seen in months—and haven’t wanted to see in months—I feel my heart leap into my throat.

Leonard.