Chapter 3 — I Will Not Be Your Mistress
1893 Words
IRIS
Roman follows me into the old council study.
I only go because Mara is outside the door and because if I don't hear his explanation now, I will spend the rest of my life inventing one.
He closes the door.
I turn immediately.
“Don't lock it.”
His hand stops near the key.
Then drops.
“I wasn't going to.”
“You used Alpha command on me ten minutes ago. I’m not letting you lock me in a room.”
Pain flashes across his face.
I don't feel sorry for him.
I do.
I hate that too.
“There were attacks at the northern pass,” he says.
“I know.”
“The Crowes closed it.”
“I know.”
“Without that route, we don't have enough grain reserves to carry the whole territory through an early winter.”
“So you sold the Luna position.”
His jaw tightens.
“I chose the alliance.”
“With a woman.”
“With her family.”
“Wonderful distinction.”
“Iris—”
“Did you know when you came through my window?”
“No.”
That lands harder than I expect.
“Did you know when you were in my bed?”
“No.”
“Did you know when you promised me?”
“No.”
I look at him.
He takes it.
Every question.
Every answer.
“When did you know?”
“Before dawn.”
“And the ceremony was at eleven.”
“Yes.”
“You had hours.”
“My father called the Council. The succession vote—”
I laugh.
It sounds ugly.
Roman stops talking.
“Say it properly.”
“What?”
“You keep saying Council and pass and succession like one of those words held a knife to your throat.”
“I had hundreds of people depending on—”
“And you wanted the ring.”
Silence.
There it is.
The part he doesn't want to say.
I step closer.
“You wanted to be Alpha.”
“Yes.”
The honesty almost hurts more.
Roman rubs a hand over his face.
“I thought I could get control first and undo the engagement after.”
“You thought you could humiliate me publicly and repair it privately.”
“I didn't think it would happen like that.”
“How did you think rejection worked?”
“I wasn't going to reject you.”
I stare at him.
“What?”
“I thought…” He stops.
“Go ahead. This should be excellent.”
“I thought I could take the crown, call the engagement political, and keep you anyway.”
For several seconds I cannot speak.
Then I understand.
“Oh.”
Roman takes a breath.
“I can give you the lake house. It is private. You could keep the clinic, and I could still come to you while I end the arrangement with Vivienne—”
I slap him.
The sound cracks through the room.
We both freeze.
My palm stings.
Roman's face turns slowly back toward me.
A red mark appears across his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Don't make it easy for yourself by agreeing with me.”
He looks genuinely confused.
Good.
I am tired of his perfect guilt.
“You want to install Vivienne in the Alpha House and put me in a nice private house where you can visit.”
“No.”
“That is exactly what you just described.”
“It would be temporary.”
“Temporary still means you want me hidden.”
“Iris, I love you.”
My breath catches.
I wish he hadn't said it.
Because I love him too.
Because my body remembers last night.
Because I can still feel where his mouth was on my throat even while the broken bond burns inside my chest.
Roman smells my reaction.
His pupils widen.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
Just for a second.
Desire hits me so violently I want to scream.
I step back.
“Don't.”
He closes his eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
“No, you're not.”
His eyes open.
“I am.”
“You're sorry I'm hurt. You're sorry this is ugly. You're sorry I won't cooperate.”
“That isn't fair.”
“Neither was this morning.”
He takes the hit.
Then someone knocks hard.
“Roman.”
Gideon's voice.
Every muscle in Roman's body changes.
“What?”
“The Council is waiting.”
“They can wait.”
“No.”
A paper slides beneath the door.
Roman looks at it.
I do too.
My name is printed across the top.
TEMPORARY SEPARATION ORDER.
Fear replaces anger so fast my hands go cold.
“What is that?”
Roman picks it up.
His eyes move over the page.
“Seven days.”
“Seven days of what?”
“Outside the central Alpha grounds while the succession stabilizes.”
I laugh again.
This time there is no humor in it.
“You already have paperwork for me.”
“I didn't draft this.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Will you sign it?”
Roman looks at the page.
Then at the door.
Then at me.
Too long.
Much too long.
My throat closes.
“That's what I thought.”
“Iris.”
“Open the door.”
“Listen—”
“Open it.”
He does.
Gideon stands outside with two councilors.
Mara is behind them, furious.
She immediately comes to me.
Gideon looks at my torn skirt, my swollen eyes, then at Roman's cheek.
His expression barely changes.
“The clinic has arranged coverage for the week.”
I turn on him.
“You removed me from my job?”
“Temporarily.”
There is that word again.
Nyla is gone.
For the first time since I was thirteen, I reach for my wolf and find nothing.
Fear crawls under my skin.
Roman steps between us.
“She keeps her position.”
Gideon looks at his son.
“Then sign the limited order and come to the Council.”
Roman grips the paper.
I wait.
I don't know why.
Maybe some stupid part of me still expects him to tear it in half.
He doesn't.
Mara takes my hand.
“Come on.”
I walk away before he can choose in front of me again.
That night I don't sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I hear applause.
Near dawn, nausea wakes me.
I barely make it to the bathroom.
Mara finds me on my knees.
She holds my hair while I throw up a second time.
When it finally stops, I rest my forehead against the cold tub.
“The rejection,” I whisper.
“Maybe.”
Something in her voice makes me look up.
She is staring at me strangely.
“No.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You thought something.”
Mara sits back on her heels.
“When was your last cycle?”
My stomach drops for an entirely different reason.
“It isn't late.”
Mara keeps driving.
“That isn't what I asked.”
“It isn't late.”
“You said that already.”
“Because apparently you're refusing to understand English.”
“I understand you perfectly.”
The baker's yellow delivery van rattles over the eastern road.
There is a smiling loaf of bread painted on both doors.
I survived public rejection yesterday.
Today I may die of embarrassment.
“Why are we in this thing?”
“Because Mr. Colson owed me a favor.”
“He has other vehicles.”
“He said this one had gas.”
“The bread has teeth.”
“He was going through a branding phase.”
I laugh.
One short, horrible sound.
Then I start crying.
No warning.
Mara glances at me but doesn't say anything stupid like don't cry.
That is why I love her.
“I hate him.”
“I know.”
“I love him.”
“I know.”
“I hate that answer.”
“I know.”
I wipe my face.
“I may actually hate you too.”
“Take a number.”
Brookhollow is forty minutes beyond Silvercrest's eastern boundary.
Far enough that I can breathe.
Barely.
Elara Dunn opens the clinic door before we knock.
She looks at me.
Looks at Mara.
Looks at the giant smiling bread outside.
“I have questions.”
“No, you don't,” I say.
“Excellent. Come in.”
Elara trained me during my second year as a healer. She has the warmth of a surgical tray and the discretion of a tomb.
Perfect.
Inside the examination room, she closes the door.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“The rejection?”
I nod.
Her face softens.
Only slightly.
That nearly breaks me again.
“Don't,” I say.
“I wasn't going to pity you.”
“Good.”
“I was going to say Roman is an idiot.”
Mara leans against the wall.
“I knew I liked you.”
For the first time all morning, my smile is real.
Elara asks about my cycle.
Last s****l contact.
Symptoms.
Bond status.
The last one hurts.
“Broken.”
“Fully?”
“I accepted the rejection.”
“Nyla?”
I swallow.
“Quiet.”
Elara's expression changes.
“Can you feel her at all?”
“No.”
“That's not uncommon after a violent severance, but we'll watch it.”
Fear tightens my stomach.
“What if she doesn't come back?”
“She will.”
“You don't know that.”
“No. But I've treated rejected wolves before, and I'm not going to feed your panic with rare outcomes.”
That is why she was always a good healer.
She tells the truth without enjoying it.
“The pregnancy test may be early,” she says. “Wolf blood can show conception before human tests, especially after an active fated bond. The rejection can complicate the reading.”
“Of course it can.”
Mara takes my hand.
Elara pricks my finger.
I watch the blood darken the narrow test strip.
One violet line appears.
My lungs unlock.
Then another line begins to form.
Faint.
Slow.
Impossible.
“No.”
Mara's fingers tighten around mine.
Elara doesn't speak until the second line darkens.
“No.”
I stand too fast.
The room tilts.
Mara catches my elbow.
“No.”
Elara takes a second test.
Then blood for the analyzer.
I pace the tiny room.
“It's too soon.”
“Yes.”
“I was careful.”
“Careful isn't impossible.”
“He rejected me yesterday.”
Elara looks at me.
“I know.”
“He chose someone else.”
“I know.”
“I can't be pregnant now.”
This time she doesn't say she knows.
Because we both know biology does not care about timing.
The analyzer beeps.
Elara reads the result.
Then reads it again.
“Iris.”
I stop pacing.
“You're pregnant.”
My knees give out.
Mara reaches me before the floor does.
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