Chapter 6.

Gerald.

My arms are folded, my stance calm, but inside, I’m coiled. Pretending her presence doesn’t get to me is a wasted effort. Pretending last night didn’t shake something already loose in me is worse. Because my efforts are futile.

Iris Conrad. My mother’s new caregiver. I looked her ID up the moment her belongings were brought in. The name alone was a punch to the gut. Iris. A name I buried with the woman who wore it years ago. One I was told died.

The healer I entrusted her care to for her treatment, three years ago, had sent word that Iris Herewit, my Luna, my mate, died from Eriana’s wounds. I never replied the message. Never heard from the healer again. Never bothered to. Cut all ties.

So why does this Iris suddenly stir up worry in my gut?

“The look on your face tells me Foller and Ron are either doing a shit job or something’s chewing you up from the inside,” Luke mutters as he approaches.

My second-in-command. Leader of the male betas. My friend.

I grunt.

“That, or it’s the beauty I hear is currently waiting in your office, ready to report for duty.” His grin is too damn smug.

She’s in my office? I shoot him a mind-link, pulse suddenly spiking.

Luke just shrugs, smirking. “Primrose texted me. Said the girl bolted from her care like the devil himself called her. Apparently, you asked her to resume today.”

Damn it. I did. I’d nearly forgotten. I frown. She should be resting. In my fury last night, I ditched out orders to her.

“What did you do to her?” Luke presses. “Don’t tell me you scared her off while trying to save her from Josh and his feral vampires?”

I don’t answer. My mind flashes to last night.

‘Don’t…’ she whispered as I stepped toward her. Her eyes, huge, glassy, were a storm of fear and something else. Something ancient. Desire. The pull was strong. I felt it.

My body remembers before my mind can shut it down.

It had been raining hard. I was heading back from Luke’s birthday gathering, worried about Mother since Primrose, Luke's girlfriend had asked to stay with him for the night. The road was slick. I hadn’t expected someone to dart out like that, wild, hunted. Iris. She looked like a prey. Cornered and drenched. My instincts flared, hard and fast. I never want to see that look in her eyes again. And then I saw her pursuers. Scum that have been infesting my territory.

“How was your birthday?” I cut off the memory, tossing Luke a distraction.

He narrows his eyes, not fooled, but he lets it go.

“From the bags under your eyes, I’d say you’re the one who didn’t sleep well.” I tease.

“Primrose huh?” I smirk.

“She was perfect. Just like the woman who’ll steal your heart again.” Luke drops. Subtle.

There it is. The line. The reason I always cut the conversation short.

I turn from the sparring ring, stalking toward the exit.

“What, you’re gonna pretend I didn’t just say something meaningful?” Luke calls after me.

I don’t look back. Iris Herewit, her dark hair, her soft voice, presses in on my memory like a bruise. I shove it down, into the place I’ve trained to ignore it.

And I walk away. Again. I don't want to remember the Iris that betrayed me. Neither do I want to welcome thoughts of this Iris that has come to stay.

***

Iris.

I tap my foot, nerves firing under my skin. Pricking me.

I’ve been sitting in this office for nearly twenty minutes, waiting. Alpha Gerald Ford hasn’t shown up yet. Damn it. Is he upset? I don't want him upset. He doesn't look like a person that should be upset. Not with his beastly form of last night.

How did I wake up late?

I’d set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. sharp. Somehow, I slept through it. Again, same dream. Same damn transformation. Only this time... it felt real. I wouldn’t have even stirred if Primrose Jerkins hadn’t nudged me awake.

‘You were moaning in your sleep,’ she’d said gently.

She’s kind. Sharp, but warm. When I met her this morning, she introduced herself with a wide smile. ‘Primrose Jerkins, RN at Ford Mansion.’

She explained our roles, hers and mine. We’d be sharing quarters, trading shifts caring for Mrs. Ford, a strong woman battling old injuries.

‘All you need to do is report everything to me. Mrs. Ford’s sweet as pie, you’ll like her.’

I nodded along, trying to absorb everything. Primrose noticed the fading bruises on my arms and was surprised how fast they’d healed.

‘If you weren’t human, I’d say you had werewolf blood,’ she teased, laughing.

I’d laughed too. Awkwardly.

‘No,’ I muttered. But I didn’t elaborate. I never do.

My mother’s spells had always been a secret. After nearly losing me in that car accident three years ago, according to her, she told me she infused my blood with healing chants. Nothing serious, she said. Just… magic to keep me alive.

‘Don’t ever tell anyone,’ she’d warned. ‘There are people in this world who’d do anything to find you. Find us.’

So I didn’t. I never do.

The door clicks open.

My spine straightens. My pulse trips. He steps in.

Alpha Gerald Ford.

Tall. Commanding. A little damp with sweat and earth, wearing just jeans and a navy T-shirt. T-shirt again. He seems to like them.

His eyes pin me, assessing. Waiting.

“Have you waited long?”

His voice is rich. Deep. Velvet lined with steel. I bolt to my feet, instantly.

“N…no, sir.”

He walks toward me. Slow. Measured. Toe to toe. Breath to breath.

I forget how to breathe.

He’s too close. My ribs hurt from the pressure of trying to hold everything in. Hold my breath in.

His eyes search my face. “How did your wounds heal so fast? Not a scratch left.”

His fingers lift to my cheek.

It’s not just a touch. It’s a pull. A current. A burn and a bloom all at once. Tiny sparks.

My breath hitches. His skin against mine is a secret kiss, electric and dangerous.

My eyes fly to his. They lock, without a beat.

And in that stillness, in the crackling air between us, I hear it.

Boodum... Boodum... Boodum.

My heartbeat. Louder than thought. Fiercer than fear.

I felt it.

Did he?