IrisThe morning sun filters through the curtains, warming my face and pulling me out of a restless sleep. For a moment, I linger in bed. But it’s not a restful state that I’m in; rather, my mind keeps replaying the events that occurred last night in that alley.Arthur’s words, his accusations, and
IrisArthur whisks me away from the table before I can even protest. I’m not even sure if Brian, Liam, or the twins notice him taking me away—it’s as if I’m sitting at the table one moment, hot soup splashing across my leg, and the next we’re in the bathroom. Even though werewolves are supernaturall
Arthur & IrisArthurThe moment the phone begins to ring, Iris lunges toward it like her life depends on it. Her finger smashes the ‘decline call’ button, turning the screen dark before I can see the name lighting it up.“What was that?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.Iris lifts her chin defiantly, as if
Iris & ArthurIrisI should feel angry when I see those pictures. I should feel violated and self-righteous at the obvious invasion of my privacy.But I don’t. Not really.Instead, I just feel… sad.Despite everything, I am Arthur’s fated mate. Even now, five years later, the unshakable bond that gr
I bristle at the term of endearment, even more so when Selina lifts up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. The nearby onlookers coo at the public display of affection, but I feel like retching.The moment I’m able, I pull Selina off to the side under the guise of dancing to the orchestral music and
IrisI’ve just pulled up to the gallery when I notice that the lobby is already filling up. It’s surprising, to say the least; all these people aren’t just coming for me, are they?As an artist, I’ve always kept my identity private—more for Miles’ sake than mine, although I’d be lying if I said it w
And I do just that. When we return to the gallery—in Brian’s car rather than Arthur’s—I go in the back entrance.I explain the situation to the gallery staff, who, to my surprise, all express their understanding. They assure me that they’ll keep my identity confidential, which I appreciate more than
IrisThe curator was right.Over the days since my seminar, it seems that my ‘mysterious’ identity as ‘Flora the artist’ has drawn even more interest in my work than ever. My collection is being talked about all over online forums, with local Ordan critics writing articles on the symbolism.And then
I hesitate, glancing toward the bar. Alice, noticing the exchange from afar, lifts her glass and shoots me a wink. My cheeks flush as I accept, and we move to the dance floor.Surprisingly, Hunter keeps a respectable distance as we begin to dance. His palm presses into mine, his fingers gently curli
IrisAlice and I pull up to the event, which is situated in one of the historic halls in downtown Ordan. Glittering chandeliers hang from the ceilings, their glow reflecting off the polished marble floors. Ordan socialites from all backgrounds mill around in expensive gowns and tuxedos, sipping cham
“Children don’t eat on furniture,” Mrs. White cuts me off, raising her hand to stop me. “And pizza is very unhealthy.”I blink. “It’s not like it’s an everyday thing,” I say slowly. “And Miles is very neat when he eats. You can put a towel down if you’re concerned, but he won’t make a mess.”The nan
IrisBefore I can think better of it, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Alice a quick text.“I’ll come with you tonight. What time?”She responds within a minute: “The event starts at eight, but you should come to my place beforehand! We can get ready together.”I hesitate, then agree to do
ArthurI sit in my office, my brow furrowed, running my fingers across the stubble lining my jaw over and over again. I should have shaved this morning, but my mind was admittedly… elsewhere.“He’s on the spectrum,” Iris said last night.That information left me confused, to say the least. Of course
Sighing, I turn toward the studio again, not really in the mood to deal with her antics. But as she opens the door to Arthur’s room and steps inside, curiosity takes hold of me, and I can’t help but follow her. I pause in the doorway, finding her rifling through his closet.“What are you doing?” I a
IrisThe next morning, I’m holed up in my studio again, finishing up the static television painting. Miles is playing on the floor by my feet—he’s barely left my side all morning, too shy of the new nanny to be alone with her.Not that I can blame him, nor do I mind. It’s nice to hear him talking to
Arthur’s eyes flash slightly at the mention of Selina, but his voice is calm as he replies, “Mrs. White is aware of the situation, and has promised the utmost discretion. Furthermore, I can pay her even more to split her time between our homes should you choose to move. But if it were up to me, you
IrisArthur swings open the front door to reveal an older woman with graying hair standing in the hallway.“Mrs. White,” he says, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. “Please, come in.”The woman shuffles into the foyer, clutching a small duffle bag to her chest. She stops in the center of