SHEs BACK BUT NOT BACK
1250 Words
~Alice
Why the hell was Iris’s phone with him?
My hand started shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone.
My father didn’t even like omegas. He’d never shown interest in anyone after Mom died. And Iris… Iris was mine. She’d always been mine.
But the way he’d said “she’s not available”… like he had every right to speak for her.
Like she was with him right now.
I stood up from the bar stool so fast it scraped loud across the floor. The room spun a little, tequila hitting my head harder than I expected but I didn’t care.
I had to know.
I grabbed my keys and stormed out of the club, the bass thumping behind me as the door swung shut.
If Iris was with him…
If my own father had taken her from me…
I didn’t know what I’d do.
But I was going to find out.
I pulled up to the estate gates doing twice the speed limit, tires screeching as I braked hard. The iron bars loomed in my headlights, closed tight.
Thorne stood in front of them, arms crossed, face blank, the perfect wall of muscle and loyalty.
I jumped out of the car, slamming the door hard enough to echo.
“Move,” I snapped.
He didn’t budge.
“The Alpha is in an emergency meeting,” he said, voice calm, immovable. “No one can come in or out. That was his order.”
I stepped right up to him, close enough to see the faint scar across his eyebrow.
“I’m his daughter,” I hissed. “Get out of my way.”
He met my eyes, unyielding.
“I’m sorry, Miss Alice. Orders are orders.”
Something in me snapped.
I slapped him. Hard. Once across the left cheek, then backhand across the right.
The cracks rang out in the quiet night.
His head barely moved. He took both hits without flinching, without raising a hand to block or retaliate. He just stood there, jaw tight, letting the red marks bloom on his skin.
Infuriating.
“Move,” I said again, voice shaking now.
He didn’t.
“I can’t,” he said quietly. “Not even for you.”
Tears burned my eyes, rage, humiliation, fear all mixing together.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit him again. I wanted to tear the gates down with my bare hands.
But I knew Thorne. He’d stand there all night if he had to. He’d take every slap, every insult, and still not move an inch.
Because my father’s word was his law. And tonight, that law was keeping me out.
I stepped back, chest heaving, staring at the dark windows of the house beyond the gates.
Iris was in there with him, I'm sure of that.
I turned away before he could see me break and climbed back into my car.
I didn’t know where I was going.
I didn’t go back to the dorm. I couldn’t.
After Thorne blocked me at the gates, I drove aimlessly until the tank was nearly empty and the sky started lightening.
I ended up parking on some quiet side street, reclined the seat, and passed out in the Ferrari, curled up under my jacket, mascara smeared, tasting salt from tears I didn’t remember crying.
I woke up stiff and cold, the sun already high. My phone was dead. My head pounded.
I drove home on fumes, needing a shower, clean clothes, anything to feel human again.
The estate was quiet when I pulled in. Too quiet.
I walked through the front doors, kicking off my shoes in the foyer, when I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned.
Sasha.
She was standing there in yesterday’s clothes, hair messy, lipstick gone, like she’d been waiting.
The rage hit me instantly.
I crossed the space in two strides and slapped her hard, open palmed, the crack echoing off the marble.
“This is because of you, you b***h,” I hissed, voice shaking. “Everything’s falling apart because of you.”
She didn’t even touch her cheek. She just looked at me with those cool, knowing eyes.
“Are you blind, Alice?” she said quietly. “Can’t you see what’s happening? Leave Iris alone. You have me. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”
I laughed, ugly. “You’re a psycho. Get the f**k out of my house.”
I turned to storm upstairs.
She grabbed my wrist, yanked me back, and kissed me.
Her mouth was on mine before I could react, tasting like yesterday's mistake. For a second, my body responded on autopilot. I kissed her back, hard, angry, pouring all the hurt into it.
Then reality slammed into me.
I shoved her away and slapped her again, harder this time.
“Get out,” I snarled. “Now.”
She didn’t move. Just stood there, cheek red, eyes blazing.
“What’s so special about her?” she asked, voice low. “This girl Iris. What does she have that I don’t?”
I stepped into her space, chest heaving.
“She’s ten times everything you could ever be,” I said, venom dripping from every word. “She’s real. She’s…”
Sasha’s hand flew up, palm open, ready to strike.
It never landed.
A hand caught her wrist mid air, stopping it cold.
I looked up.
Iris.
She was standing right behind Sasha, grip tight on her arm, eyes locked on me.
The hallway went dead silent.
Iris’s face was pale, eyes still red from crying, but her voice was steady.
“Let her go,” she said to Sasha, quiet but firm.
Sasha turned, shocked.
Iris still didn’t let go of her hand yet. Her fingers wrapped around Sasha’s wrist like a vice, holding it there without effort.
“Oh,” Sasha said quietly, “So the crazy girlfriend is back? Before you can think of forgiving her, she called me over herself to suck her p***y and…”
She didn’t let Sasha finish.
“I know,” Iris interrupted, tone flat and final. “So just get the f**k out of here.”
Her free hand dipped casually into her pocket, like this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Everyone in the pack knew Iris could fight. She wasn’t just pretty curves and soft words, she was quick, strong, trained.
She’d taken down bigger opponents than Sasha without breaking a sweat. The Vixens had learned that the hard way. Sasha had learned it too, once upon a time.
Sasha tried to yank her arm free. Iris didn’t budge.
“I won’t repeat myself,” Iris said, eyes locked on Sasha’s. “Run along.”
Sasha groaned, half frustration, half defeat and jerked her wrist free when Iris finally released it. She rubbed the spot, glaring between us, but the fight had gone out of her.
She turned and left, heels clicking angrily down the hall, door slamming behind her.
I couldn’t look away from Iris.
She stood there, hand still in her pocket, shoulders squared, but her eyes… they were tired. Hurt.
“Iris…” I started, voice cracking.
She held up a hand.
“Not now,” she said quietly. “Just… not now.”
Then she walked past me, toward the stairs, without another word.
I watched her go, throat tight, heart pounding.
She’d saved me from Sasha.
But she hadn’t forgiven me.
And I didn’t know if she ever would.
- Writer
