Doe Eyed Duke

That meeting stayed with her, mainly because Amara wouldn't shut up about it. "The Alpha King, he told you to call him by his name. My lady, don't you think that...".

But that was the problem. She would rather not think too much about it. Didn't want to think too much about the Duke's gray eyes and the way they were filled with guilt. How he had apologized after. How her guts had churned but not in discomfort.

Amidst all this, there were more pressing matters to consider, such as Nathan's rapid recovery.

King George had brought every healer with a weight to their name, and it had paid off. In just a day, there were rumors that the pack's beloved Duke had opened his eyes. They even said he would walk again.

Rumors circulated about the actions he might take towards his haggard wife once he was discharged from the hospital.

But every time she brought up the topic, Amara shut it down. "Didn't the Lycan King Asher ask you to come to him when you need something? Why not ask him for a divorce?"

Maybe because she'd thought about it, investigating Nathan's file on what they were really doing sitting in Pack Midnight. It was a test of a peace treaty. They'd stay in the Pack for three months to ensure the Alpha's full loyalty to them, then they'd be gone.

Then after that, what? Nathan would be back in power; they'd be out of reach, leaving her to Nathan's wrath. She couldn't run away. Not when her lands were in Nathan's name.

Nathan would come back, and she'd take what he gave to her without malice. Nothing about a divorce anymore, besides he'd already broken their bond months ago, leaving her almost dead; what could be worse than that?

Right now she had been ostracized by the whole pack; news had gone round that Alpha Asher and his Devil Duke had visited her, and they weren't taking it so well, branding her as the enemy of the pack.

All of this she knew was silly gossip. Ones that would die down as soon as she was in Nathan's good graces again.

The opportunity came one chilly morning two days later in the form of a letter pressed under the door. Trembling, Amara had brought it to her minutes later, standing aside as she read it.

Nathan was awake, and he demanded her presence. "Get here." Were the letters on the paper? Even that was enough to make her hands shake to the point that the note dropped to the floor as Amara watched.

But sighing, she stood up, moving to her wardrobe. He was still her husband, and it seemed like he would be for a very long time. And she was going to perform the duties of a wife. Just a wife, she was no longer a mate anyway.

Amara had pleaded that Iris take her along. "If I was there with you, he wouldn't hit you." Amara begged.

Iris knew what that really meant. If Amara were there, Nathan would go for her instead. Anything that would make Iris hurt more, even if it were watching the servant she cherished in pain?

So she locked Amara in; watching her maid ignore all courtesy and curse at her from the window was so funny she allowed herself a laugh as she saddled her horse with only an escort and left.

She reached the healer's quarters faster than she wanted, and quietly led by a half-blinded older man, she made her way to his ward.

Nathan's ward smelled of herbs and antiseptic and also flowers and fruits, piles of them with notes, probably wishing him a speedy recovery and demanding that he do away with his haggard wife. One even had the princess seal, kept tenderly away from the rest on the table.

Iris turned away from it.

There he was, sitting up in bed. His blond hair was messy, but his blue eyes remained sharp and calculating, which was surprising considering he had been thrown out a window days ago.

Bandages wrapped his torso, and one leg was in a cast propped on the floor; he looked very much alive, and that was enough to make her heart sink.

He looked at her once and turned, staring out the window. He had lost considerable weight, but that did nothing to diminish his looks. In fact, he looked even better vulnerable, so pitiful it made it easy for people to curse at his wife.

Without a word, she moved to the table and poured him a glass of water, and as she took it to him, she broke the silence, "I'm glad you're okay. I came as soon as I got your letter..."

“Shut up,” he snapped, cutting her off. His hand twitched toward the bedside table, where a clay cup sat, and he grabbed it, hurling it at her with surprising force for someone half-broken. It missed her head by inches, shattering against the wall behind her. “I don’t need your pathetic hovering. You think you can play nursemaid now and make up for what you did?”

Iris flinched. But flinching was for people with the luxury of retreating. Instead, she knelt, picking the shards of the cup. "Please, refrain from straining yourself; you need your strength..."

"I said shut up!" His eyes narrowed back to the window. "And get up. You look pathetic."

She obeyed, but now she was staring at the gash on her palm from it; droplets of blood hitting the floor.

She had been so terrified she didn't notice it hurt when it happened. Iris sighed, squeezing her bleeding palms.

"The Alpha came by the manor." She hated how small her voice was. "He apologized. Said it wasn't about me."

"I heard. "Now that I think about it," he looked distant, "The bastard never liked me from the very moment he saw me. "You were just an excuse for him to carry out his... fantasies." A wicked smile played on Nathan's lips. "I'm sure it sickened you to know it wasn't about you. "You're a fool, Iris, if you ever think anyone would find you worth saving." Silence, "But...you gave him an opportunity."

“I swear, I didn’t ask for any of this. I just want to help you get better.”

“You’re the reason I’m in this bed, you treacherous Omega. Parading your bruises in front of that bastard and his attack dog. You think I don’t know you wanted me gone? I saw the way you fucking looked at him.” He shifted, wincing as he moved his injured leg, but the pain only seemed to fuel his venom.

“I never wanted you hurt. I just… I just wanted it to stop.” She rose slowly, setting the shards on a nearby table, and reached for a fresh cup of water from the healer’s tray. “Here, please, you need to stay strong.”

He snatched her hand, pulling her towards him, causing her knees to hit the bed between his legs.

His fingers dug into her arm so hard it hurt. His breath stank of liquor, his face inches from hers'. "You're nothing without me, Iris. You're a worthless, spineless omega whose father tied your name to mine because he didn't even trust you enough to handle ownership."

She swallowed.

It seemed like he recognized the pain he had inflicted, and his eyes gleamed. "If your father knew the real you, you should appreciate that I'm still by your side despite everything."

Iris dropped her gaze.

He never liked that. His hold tightened; she bit back her wince. "Perhaps getting rid of Amara will bring you back to..."

She kissed him. Slowly and passionately, her lips moved against his hard ones until they parted and moved in sync with hers. Iris stifled her sob, floating out of her body. It was becoming harder to do.

His bruising hold on her had relaxed, and finally the kiss was broken.

"Forgive me." She whispered, "Please don't hurt Amara."

He kissed her again, this time with fervor, his hungry mouth pressing against hers. Iris let him. A small price to pay for what she wanted.

She was at his good side...that was all that mattered.

***

She left the healer's quarters minutes later, palm still bleeding; she welcomed the pain; it told her she was alive as she strolled around the pack house to get to her horse.

Perhaps it would be easier to go the route of her mother, falling down the window of her room.

The only memory that stayed after that accident five years ago...what was the use of living?

"You little son of a ..." A masculine yell yanked her out of her trance.

Iris's head snapped to the side, suddenly coming to the realization that she was strolling past the Pack's Royal Arena, and, surprisingly, it was training day for the soldiers.

However, the soldiers appeared frozen in shock.

That masculine voice rang out again, "Are you out of your mind, Atlas? I almost killed you!"

Oh, Atlas,... Duke Atlas, right? Her eyes found him, his bare upper body gleaming from sweat and sunlight, and on his arm...goddess, was a deep gash that bled.

But the Duke was staring at her, and when she looked up at him, his sword clattered into the sand.

"What the... Goddess, you're so pathetic."

"Shut up, Luigi, she can hear you."

"You shut up and get that shit treated! You're fucking crazy."

Okay, Iris thought. Just silly men and their games, right? They'd be accidents, of course; considering the numerous court maidens watching, hoping to catch the new official's eyes.

Nothing serious...

But...why was he running in her direction...she was overthinking...maybe he just needed something, maybe water? Wasn't she just walking past his caretakers?

But...why was he suddenly standing just before her, hardened eyes staring at her wounded hand?

"Your injury, Lady Iris." He stepped even closer, soft, hurt eyes holding hers, "Let me take care of it."