Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 28

My face is stretched with a smile when Miles and I get off the plane. He’s so excited that he’s yanking on my hand, skipping ahead and pointing at all the sights. If I weren’t so tired from all the moving around lately, I might be skipping through the airport right along with him.

“Look, Mommy!” Miles practically shouts, pointing at an airport ice cream stand. “Ice cream! Can we get some?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “It’s nine in the morning, love. We’ll get ice cream later.”

Miles pushes his lower lip out in a pout, but quickly gets distracted by something else.

I can’t help but smile and shake my head good–naturedly, impressed by the kid’s resilience. We’ve been up since three in the

morning to make it here in time, and he didn’t even nap on the plane, and yet you would think he just woke up from a hundred-

year slumber.

But my smile fades when a man in a trench coat, a hat, and one of those blue surgical masks steps in our way, towering over me

and Miles. I grip Miles‘ hand a little tighter, pulling him away.

“Excuse us

“Iris.”

That voice is familiar. Too familiar.

I stiffen, taking a step back as Arthur pulls his mask down.

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Chapter 28

Iris

The moment I see Arthur standing over me, my entire body freezes up.

As a human, I don’t have the werewolf instincts that innately make my body react to an Alpha’s presence, but it doesn’t matter.

The cold authority in Arthur’s gaze is enough to make me stiffen, my mind, body, and heart all warring against one another.

On one hand, he’s my fated mate, and his very presence sets my heart racing even after all this time.

But my mind knows where this is going–what he can no doubt sense now just from looking at Miles. I know I should leave.

And yet my body is frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Mommy?” The sound of Miles‘ voice pulls me out of my reverie. He tugs on my hand, half–hiding behind my legs. “Who is

that?”

Arthur smiles and crouches, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of Miles‘ eyes–big green eyes, just like his own. Only then

do I know I need to move.

“No one, sweetheart,” I say, scooping Miles up into my arms before Arthur can touch him. I whirl around Arthur, beelining for the baggage claim so I can get the hell out of here.

But Arthur is quick. He’s always been quick even for an Alpha, especially when he wants something. He steps in our way once

either of us can speak, Miles‘ nostrils flare. He sniffs the air as if picking up a scent, then cocks his head.

I hold back a curse. Miles is a human, like me, with no wolf. But I’m sure he still possesses some werewolf traits like his father,

primarily an innate sense for the familial bond that they share.

Werewolves know their packs–their kin. They can, quite literally, smell the unique essence in their blood that ties them to their

family. Miles is no different, even if he’s not entirely sure what it means yet.

Arthur’s eyebrows shoot up, no doubt already having come to the same conclusion himself. Although he’d need an actual paternity test just to be sure, he can sense that Miles is related to him. Any dummy could put two and two together.

I never should have brought Miles to Ordan. This was a mistake.

In my head, all of the worst possibilities flash by like a movie: Arthur whisking Miles away as his heir, claiming custody. Never

be an Alpha’s heir, and he’ll try to throw more money at me to keep me quiet and out of his life.