Iris Evans is on her hands and knees, scrubbing away at the dirty bathroom floor with a toothbrush when the door opens. She hears the sound of boots on marble tile and feels a chill go through her.
“Dawson,” she says. She’s afraid to look up at him.
“Stand up and get over here,” he barks. He’s clearly angry, furious even.
Iris sets the toothbrush down and gets to her feet. She doesn’t move towards him. She can’t. Her feet feel frozen in place.
“Come here,” he growls. There’s a menace in his voice that sends shivers through her.
She knows she has to move but her feet don’t want to obey.
He doesn’t wait for her to move. Instead, he takes three long strides towards her and grabs her arm roughly. He yanks her towards him so fast that she falls against his body.
She feels his breath in her ear, hot and harsh. “I have been looking all over this house for you and I found you in here, cleaning the bathroom with a toothbrush. Tell me why.”
“Because...” she struggles to find an excuse.
“Because why?”
She swallows down the fear that threatens to choke her. “Because I want to help,” she says weakly.
He squeezes her arm even harder. “You are a liar,” he growls.
“No, I’m not lying,” she protests weakly.
“Yes, you are,” he snarls. He lifts her off the ground so that her feet dangle in the air. “Are you a shifter?” he demands.
She shakes her head, no.
“Are you the mate to any shifter?” he barks.
Iris nods weakly. She knows she can’t deny it anymore.
He drops her on the floor and backs away, his eyes flashing with rage. “Who are you?” he growls. His voice is low and menacing.
She takes a deep breath. “My name is Iris Evans.”
“Where are you from?”
“I was born in Arizona.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I have been a slave in this house for ten years.”
He steps forward again. “What is your mate’s name?” he growls.
“His name is Dawson Graham.”
“How do you know me?” he demands.
She lifts her eyes to meet his. “I’ve known you for my entire life,” she says softly.
“Why do you look familiar?” he asks.
“I am your friend,” Iris says quietly.
Dawson shakes his head, denying it. “No,” he growls. “That is not possible. I’ve never seen you before.”
Iris holds his eyes. “Your mother lied to you.”
He shakes his head again. “No, that is not possible. My mother would never lie to me.”
Iris sighs. “She did lie to you,” she says sadly.
Dawson’s face crumples. “Why?” he growls.
Iris shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
Dawson steps forward, his eyes burning with anger. “Tell me more,” he demands.
Iris shrinks away from him but it is too late. His claws flash out and rip through her shirt.
“Please,” she begs. “Do not kill me.”
Dawson’s eyes soften. “Why do you think I would kill you?” he asks quietly.
“You are angry with me,” she says shakily.
Dawson takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Yes, I am angry but I would never kill you. You are my sister.”
Iris shakes her head, denying it. “I am not your sister. I am a slave.”
Dawson’s grip on her loosens and he falls to the floor, his back against the wall. “I am sorry,” he says quietly.
Iris takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “It is okay,” she says softly. She knows that she has to calm him down. She can’t let him go into a rage and hurt her or anyone else.
He looks up at her, his eyes pleading. “Please tell me the truth.”
She smiles weakly. “I already have told you the truth.”
He shakes his head. “No, you have not told me everything,” he protests.
She sighs. “There is not much else to tell,” she lies. She cannot tell him about her son Jonathan or his grandmother. It will only put them in danger. She can never let that happen.
Dawson looks up at her, pleading in his eyes. “Please tell me what is going on,” he begs. “I want to know.”
She looks at him sadly. “I can’t tell you anything more,” she says regretfully.
He shakes his head again, denying her. “Yes, you can tell me everything. I want to know everything.”
“I can’t,” she protests sadly.
He stands up. “You can and you will,” he says firmly. He grabs her wrist and drags her out of the room. “We are going to my office and you are going to tell me everything.”
“No,” she protests as she is dragged along the hallway.
He stops at the first door they come to. “Open it,” he orders.
Iris obeys, knowing that she has no choice. She opens the door and looks inside.
“Go in,” he growls.
She obeys again, knowing she has no choice.
Dawson follows her into the room and slams the door shut behind him. “Now, tell me everything,” he orders.
She shakes her head again, denying him. “There is nothing else to tell. I have already told you everything.”
He growls, low in his throat. “No, there is something else,” he protests. “I know it.” He grabs her and shakes her. “Tell me,” he growls menacingly.
“No,” she whimpers. “Please. You have to listen to me. There is nothing else I can tell you. I swear it.”
He snarls at her and tosses her away like a doll. “Fine,” he snarls coldly. “But know this. I am not done with you.”
He walks away, leaving her on the floor. She watches him go and wonders what he will do next.