Too Late for Tears: the Twin Alphas' Lost Mate novel Chapter 2

Cedric’s grip on her waist falters. She’s emaciated. He’s stunned, trying to make sense of it.

“Iris,” he starts, voice gone rough. “What in the goddess’s name did they—”

“Cedric?”

Icy wind sweeps through the room. Viola stands at the patio entrance to the study, pale and shivering. She’s in a short-sleeved dress, without so much as a sweater to keep her warm.

Concern for Viola immediately shifts Cedric’s focus. “What are you doing out there?” he asks, already shrugging off his coat as he crosses to her. “The healer said you should rest.”

Hurt twists in Iris’s chest as his dark head bends close to Viola’s, guiding her near the crackling hearth. Their matching black hair and brown eyes are a reminder of what they share - blood, bond, a belonging Iris will never have.

Spotting her, Viola’s eyes widen. “Iris,” she smiles warmly, “I heard you might be coming home today. I’m so glad you’re back.”

Yeah, right. Iris stays mute and fixes her with a steely-eyed glare.

Cedric shoots her a scowl, making his disapproval known. She might as well be sending out ray beams of hostility. Viola’s only just recovered from an illness, yet she still took the opportunity to find her and welcome her back. Iris could damn well learn from her graciousness.

Iris ignores the disdainful look he’s giving her. The fireplace blazes only feet away, but she can’t feel it — three years of cold has settled too deep to lift in a single afternoon. She pulls the too-large peacoat tighter around herself instead, the sleeves swallowing her hands. Cedric treats Viola like fragile porcelain. All the while showing Iris impatience.

Chin up, Iris, she coaches herself. She used to cling to her brother, but in the end, she’s always handled her own problems. And whether they noticed or not, she’s always been someone who reflects well upon her family.

Cedric places his hand on Viola’s elbow, already steering her toward the study door, “Go rest. The Queen will be here within the hour, and she’ll want all of us at dinner.”

The easy tenderness sends another pang of loss through Iris. She still believes her family once loved her. For over a decade, they raised her, cherished her. They knew her kind nature.

Or, she thought they did. Something broke when Viola came home. Even without Cedric asking, she would have helped cover for Viola. She would have sacrificed for them. That’s who she is.

If only they could see that. Did they ever see her at all?

She’s sure as hell invisible now, while he fusses over Viola. Coming home was a mistake.

“But Iris -” Viola says, coughing, “We have to make sure she’s settled.”

Cedric pauses. Shit. He glances over at Iris, still standing by the rack of clothes.

Asshole. He was about to walk right past her.

Viola’s cough rattles again, pulling his attention back. She’s approaching eighteen and still hasn’t shifted. He’s tried everything to help her recover, but nothing has worked. “Weak wolf,” the healers call it. It was caused by years of surviving alone without the pack or her family to protect and care for her. Without him.

She’s fragile in ways Iris has never been. Iris used to show up at the training grounds to spar with warriors twice her size. She doesn’t need him hovering.

“She looks too thin, Ced,” Viola whispers.

The feel of Iris’s gaunt frame in his hands… Dread curls in his stomach at the remembrance. He pushes it away before it can take hold. Doesn’t want to feel it. Doesn’t want to believe. Iris used to dramatically swear off dessert if she gained a pound. She's probably been on some ridiculous diet, and he’ll put a stop to it.

"She's fine," he says, raising his eyebrows at Iris. "Right?"

Iris nods, keeping her back straight and her face blank. But the adrenaline that carried her this far is draining away. Her vision blurs. Her knees wobble.

And all the while, Viola’s eyes are on her, studying her.

Before Iris can react, she’s crossing the room. “Here, Iris,” she insists, her expression full of guilt as she shrugs off Cedric’s coat, “You take this instead.”

Viola moves close to drape the coat around her shoulders. It’s too close, too fast. Three years of people approaching like that meant pain. Iris flinches, raising her hands instinctively as a barrier, stepping back.

And then Viola loses balance, or seems to, just before her weight crashes into Iris.

It happens in a heartbeat. Cedric jolts forward, but can’t catch either woman in time. Iris’s arm scrapes against the desk’s edge, pain erupting as her skin tears open. Her vision splinters black as her skull slams into the wooden floor. Viola lands on top of her, driving the breath from her lungs.

Cedric helps Viola carefully to her feet, “Shit, are you okay?”

Iris is still on the floor, the room swimming back into view. She can’t even lift her head.

“Yes,” Viola pants, “I’m - ” She cries out in pain as Cedric inspects a scrape on her elbow.

His eyes darken, one hand protectively clutching Viola’s uninjured arm. “What the fuck, Iris?” he explodes. “Viola tries to do something nice for you, and she ends up on the floor?”

Iris’s head is throbbing, and her arm is screaming in pain. She shifts her injured arm beneath her, pressing it against her ribs. The sleeve is wet. “I didn’t do anything,” she mumbles weakly.

“I saw you raise your hands,” Cedric snarls, “You pushed her just enough to knock her off balance, and she fell forward.”

His jaw tightens. With all the dignity she can muster, Iris asks flatly, "What's your proof, Cedric?"

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