-IRIS-
Tristan leaned against a tree when I stepped out of the pack school that afternoon. Arms crossed, head tipped slightly downward, a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. His navy-blue T-shirt stretched over a broad chest, paired with worn jeans.
Casual. And devastatingly handsome.
My gaze swept the clearing, searching for Mark. Ever since I’d left the pack hospital two days ago, he’d been walking me to school and picking me up afterward.
Tristan’s gaze caught mine, and he pushed away from the tree.
"Hi, Iris."
I suppressed a shiver. The way he said my name should’ve been illegal.
It wasn’t flirty or cocky or dripping with innuendo. It just sounds like it belongs to him. Like I belong to him.
"Hi, Alpha. Did you see Mark?"
He slid his hands into his pockets, lips presse
