Chapter 2

Iris POV

I waited for an answer, but Arthur just looked at me, his expression going from cold to unreadable. I was going to insist he say something when someone knocked loudly on our door. Arthur turned and opened the door wide, smiling his professional smile as several people came through.

I recognized some of them from articles and TV interviews where they’d been discussing Arthur’s possible candidacy, but others were strangers. They were all obviously, though not ostentatiously, wealthy, and they were all alphas, except two beta males who acted like assistants to their alpha bosses.

Feeling the pressure to be a gracious hostess, I stepped forward and welcomed them all to our home, but they only made the briefest eye contact with a few nods and then seemed to forget I existed.

“So, you’re the human?” one of them asked with that haughty but not quite insulting disdain I was so used to from alphas. He was about Arthur’s age but not quite as tall and sporting well-coiffed light brown hair.

I said something about my name, but no one seemed to notice that either.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and have a rest?” Arthur turned to me, and I was hoping he would use the moment to introduce me properly, but instead he said, “We can continue what we were talking about later.”

I wanted to protest, to point out that as his future wife and mother to his child I had every reason to remain with these people as they discussed Arthur’s future. But Arthur’s eyes had gone cold, not the ones that I familiar with, and with reluctance I agreed, stepping back from a part of Arthur’s life I had never truly realized before excluded me.

Yes, I thought as I climbed the stairs with what felt like lead in my shoes, my life with Arthur had always been private, but I had never thought he was ashamed of me or wanted to hide me from the other people in his life. Had I been naïve? Those alphas hadn’t treated me with the respect one would give to a housemaid.

I went into the main bedroom to change out of the suit I’d worn to the doctor’s and put on my jeans and paint-splattered smock, which made me feel better right away. My canvas was as I had left it, washes and waves of bright colors that would become the background to the field of wildflowers I was painting to celebrate my recent BA in fine art.

Growing up, I’d always known I wanted to paint. The only true obstacle was money, but I’d worked hard and received several scholarships to get through college in four years.

It took a little longer than usual, but eventually I was lost in my art, what Arthur liked to call my “other-world trance.” The brush was an extension of my body that allowed me to soar and dance.

I was painting in oils, which I ground and mixed up myself, and the images on the canvas were coming together just as I wanted.

I breathed in the smell of linseed oil, which I knew some people found harsh, but it was an old friend to me, like an actor and the smell of greasepaint, I supposed. It was the one area of my life where I had found praise and appreciation even from betas and alphas.

I found myself wondering if any of the Alphas downstairs liked art before sternly telling myself I didn’t need their approval.

I found it much harder to concentrate than usual. I’d been given two great pieces of news with the baby and Arthur’s candidacy, so why was I feeling so alone, so far removed from my mate? I scowled at my canvas. The joy I was trying to show wasn’t coming through; the lines looked uncertain and confused.

I painted undisturbed until the sun went down, powering through until I was a little happier with the painting, if not with my situation in general.

Painting in artificial light had never worked for me, even when my subject was abstract. I crept down to the kitchen and made a sandwich, listening to the murmur of the alpha’s voices in the living room, then went back upstairs and looked over the canvas I was prepping before giving it a good sanding.

I went to bed alone, feeling cold and unsettled. Much later, well past midnight, Arthur joined me, his body a little damp from his nightly shower. Still mostly asleep, I rolled over then and put an arm over his chest. He responded immediately, chuckling softly, and held me back tenderly.

I was half asleep, so it was not a good time to discuss our baby, but I felt my fears dissipate somewhat as he kissed my chin, my forehead, and then my lips. His warm hand ran over my shoulder and around my back, and again I was pleasantly overwhelmed with the sensation of the way my fated mate just fit against my body and, I presume, my soul. He pulled down the strap of might nightgown and kissed my shoulder, then down to my beasts, which he bared to the cool air of the room and his own warm breath.

I shivered, and I felt him smile. But even as I responded to his touch, I wondered how real this was.

I was still feeling that ambivalence the next morning, but I waited Arthur and I both had a little coffee before I asked, “Are you ready to talk about the pregnancy now?”

“Yes, we do need to talk,” he said, “but I have to get to the office.”

“I see. This evening, then?”

He shook his head and looked at his watch. “I have an alpha gathering and fundraiser this evening after work at the Waldorf, so don’t wait up for me.”

“The Waldorf?” I repeated, smiling at him with gritted teeth. “Sounds like fun. I’ve never been there.”

He shrugged and then drained his coffee. “Alphas only, like last night. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.”

I wanted to say he could introduce me to his friends and then I would have many people to talk to, but instead I pressed him for at least some feedback about our child.

He took his briefcase off the counter and checked inside. “If you want to keep it, I’ll cover all expenses, of course.”

“Expenses?” I asked, deeply disappointed and not bothering to hide it.

He looked up then. “Children are expensive, and my child should be raised with care and respect. You’ll need to step up for at least this year while I campaign.”

“But we’re fated mates,” I objected. “Shouldn’t we get married when we’re having a child?”

He looked at me sternly. “Voters will not like a human Luna.”

My mouth opened in shock. “That is so discriminatory! You told me you would be running on a platform for human-wolf equality!”

He looked like he restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “There’s a big difference between championing for people’s rights and shoving a human Luna down their throats.”

“What did you just say?” I leapt up from my stool and stood there.

He waved at me, using the motion to check his watch. “Look, I’ll easily be able to give you a million dollars for raising the kid,” he said, lingering slightly on the human slang for “child.” “That’s more than you’ll need.”

I almost threw something at him. “This is about your fatherhood to our child, not money.”

“Look, I have to get to work, and I’ll be working a lot more for a while. You tend to things as you think best.” He stood and grabbed his briefcase, and my anger just kept me standing there to watch him walk out of the kitchen. I heard the door to the garage open and close.

In a sort of fog, I cleaned up the plates from breakfast. What was happening? Was I the mother of his child, his fated mate, and his future wife, or not? And if not, what the hell was I?

I sat on the sofa in the living room, unable even to gather myself enough to paint. Nothing made any sense, and everything I had thought my life was wasn’t real. I was too stunned even to cry.

There was a brisk knock then, and I walked robotically to the front door, wondering if Arthur had forgotten something. A tall, beautiful alpha woman stood there.

“Hello?” I asked her. “May I help you? Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Selina,” She said with a polished smile, “Arthur’s fiancée. I came to see who I’ll be sharing my husband with.”