Chapter 221

Iris

“Leonard,” I say cautiously, managing a tense smile. “I’m surprised to see you here. Is Wendy here?”

“Your parents were kind enough to invite me. I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to ring in the new year with such… distinguished company. Unfortunately, Wendy was feeling under the weather tonight.”

The way he says “distinguished” makes my skin crawl. I glance around, looking for Arthur, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Probably still talking with my father.

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” I say, already turning to leave. “Happy New Year.”

“Wait,” Leonard says, reaching out to place a hand on my arm. I tense at the contact, and he quickly withdraws it. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“What?”

“Your son. Miles.”

My pulse quickens. Last I heard him mention Miles was when he had tried to convince Arthur to take custody and leave me in the dust. “What about him?”

“I’ve been hearing some interesting things about him lately. About certain… abilities he might possess.”

I freeze. How could he possibly know about Miles’ dreams? About what my mother told me? We’ve been so careful to keep it quiet, just as my mother had begged us to do. No one but us knows.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply in a level voice.

“No?” Leonard raises an eyebrow. “There are rumors that he has visions. That he can see things before they happen.”

I force a laugh. “Miles? Having visions? That’s ridiculous.”

“Is that so?” Leonard doesn’t look convinced. “Because I’ve heard that he knew Arthur would come back to you, even when everyone else thought the relationship was over. That he dreamed about it.”

My stomach twists. That is true—Miles had dreamed about Arthur returning, had insisted with absolute certainty that his daddy would come home. But how the hell does Leonard know that?

“Children often hope their parents will reconcile after a separation,” I say carefully. “It doesn’t take psychic abilities to want your family back together.”

Leonard swirls his whiskey, studying the amber liquid as it catches the light. “And what about the she-wolf? I heard he dreamed about her death before it happened.”

This time, I can’t hide my shock. Silas had already mentioned how I had no wolf, and now this… How could anyone know about it? Especially Leonard, of all people, who Arthur has hardly even spoken to since the night I almost died of anaphylactic shock?

“I see I’ve struck a nerve,” Leonard says with a cold smile.

“I don’t know where you’re getting your so-called ‘information’,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady, “but Miles is a normal child. No visions, no psychic abilities, no nothing. Just a kid with a big imagination and an abundance of creativity, like his mom.”

Leonard watches me for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. I have the unsettling feeling that he’s picking apart my lies and seeing right through them.

“If you say so,” he finally sighs. “But if he ever does show signs of… unusual talents, I hope you’ll let me know. I have some experience with gifted children.”

Right… I don’t know what Leonard wants with Miles, but every instinct I have is screaming danger in big, red, flashing lights.

“I should get going,” I say, already backing away. “Arthur will be wondering where I am.”

“Of course,” Leonard nods. “Give my regards to my son. We don’t talk as often as we should these days.”

I don’t respond to that, just turn and hurried back into the crowd. My heart is racing, and I can already feel sweat beading at my hairline despite the cool night air. Leonard’s sudden interest in Miles is alarming, to say the least.

It doesn’t take me long to spot Arthur across the room thanks to his tall frame, now talking to someone I don’t recognize. I make my way toward them, weaving through the crowd. Arthur sees me approaching and excuses himself.

“Everything okay?” he asks, noticing my pale face.

“Can we talk?” I whisper. “Somewhere private?”

Nodding, Arthur places his hand gently on the small of my back and guides me toward a quieter corner of the ballroom, near the grand piano where a musician is playing soft, classical music.

“What’s wrong?” he asks once we’re relatively alone.

“I just had a really strange conversation—if you can even call it a conversation and not an interrogation—with your father.”

Arthur’s expression darkens. “What did he want this time?”

“He was asking about Miles. About his dreams.”

“His dreams?” Arthur repeats, frowning. Something in his expression tells me that this might not be the first time.

My eyes narrow. “Arthur, has your father—”

Before I can finish, the room suddenly quiets. The pianist stops playing, and a hush falls over the crowd.

My father appears on the small stage at the far end of the ballroom, tapping a microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announces, “it’s almost midnight! Please make sure you have a glass of champagne for the toast. The countdown will begin in just a moment.”

Servers appear with trays of champagne flutes, offering them to guests. One approaches us, and Arthur takes two glasses, handing one to me. I can’t drink, of course, being pregnant, but I take it anyway for appearance’s sake. Especially if Arthur’s father is in on something regarding my genetic abilities, I’m not sure if I need anyone speculating about the pregnancy just yet.

“We’ll finish this conversation at home,” Arthur says quietly. “For now, let’s try to enjoy the last few minutes of the year.”

I nod, even though the worry gnawing at my insides makes it a little hard to feel festive. The crowd begins to count down from thirty.

“Thirty… twenty-nine… twenty-eight…”

Arthur slips his arm around my waist, pulling me close against his side. Despite everything, the warmth of his body against mine is comforting.

“Fifteen… fourteen… thirteen…”

I catch a glimpse of Caleb across the room, with Miles perched on his shoulders for a better view. My son is grinning from ear to ear, his little hands clapping in time with the countdown. The sight of him, so innocent and happy, makes my heart ache. I would do anything to protect him from people like Leonard.

“Five… four… three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The room erupts into cheers, and Arthur turns to me, cupping my face in his hands. “Happy New Year, my love,” he says softly before leaning down to kiss me.

His lips are warm and familiar against mine, and for a brief moment, I forget about everything else—Leonard’s questions, Silas’ hatred, the baby growing inside me, even the crowd around us. There’s only Arthur, my mate, my love, my home.

When we finally pull apart, breathless and smiling, I feel lighter somehow.

“Happy New Year,” I whisper back, resting my forehead against his. He grins and subtly places his hand on my belly, and I place mine over it, imagining that I can already feel the little life within.

But then something catches my eye over Arthur’s shoulder, a movement in the shadowy corner near the entrance to the ballroom. I glance over and feel my blood run cold.

Leonard and Silas are standing there together, heads bent close in conversation. They look… familiar with each other, comfortable, as if this isn’t their first meeting.

As if sensing my gaze, both men look up simultaneously. Their eyes lock with mine for a brief, heart-stopping moment. Leonard’s face remains impassive, but Silas’ lips curl into a sneer that sends a shiver scuttling up my spine.

Then, without a word, they turn and walked in opposite directions, leaving the ballroom through different doors.