Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Iris

The three women freeze. The tall one releases my hair so quickly I nearly stumble from the loss of her grip.

“Alpha President,” she starts, her voice suddenly sickly sweet, “we were just-”

“Silence,” Arthur growls, and the cold sound of command in his voice is so powerful that I feel it vibrate through my bones.

In an instant, security guards flood the bathroom and converge on the women.

“Take them,” Arthur commands, not even looking at the guards. His eyes are fixed on me, a mixture of fury and concern darkening them to a blood–red.

The three women protest as they’re dragged away. I try to hold the tatters of my dress together, but it’s hopeless. The beautiful emerald silk hangs in strips, exposing far more skin than it covers.

And then I notice something worse. Behind Arthur, beyond the broken door, I can see flashes. Camera flashes.

“Arthur,” I choke out, “the photographers-”

He turns his head, following my gaze. His expression darkens further when he spots the paparazzi who have gathered in the hallway, cameras aimed directly at me. The story of the Alpha President’s human mate being assaulted in the bathroom was too juicy to pass up, apparently.

Without hesitation, Arthur shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket and wraps it around me. It engulfs me completely, the fabric still warm from his body. He then sweeps me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as he carries me past the photographers.

“Make sure they delete those photos,” I hear him growl to the security team as we pass. “All of them. Now.”

The hallway blurs as Arthur carries me swiftly away from the scene. I press my face against his shoulder, mortified by what just happened. My public debut as Arthur’s mate, and I end up half–naked and humiliated in the bathroom. It couldn’t have gone

worse.

Arthur takes me to what appears to be a private office, shutting the door firmly behind us. He sets me down gently on a leather sofa and drops to his knees in front of me.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his eyes roaming my body. “Did they–”

“Just scratches,” I manage. “They didn’t get very far.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches as he examines the shallow cuts on my arm and the faint scratch on my cheek. His fingers ghost over them, barely touching my skin.

“I’m going to kill them,” he says, so quietly I almost don’t hear it.

“You can’t kill them,” I say with a weak laugh. “Think of the political fallout.”

He doesn’t smile at my attempt at humor. His eyes are still that dangerous shade of red, and I know that if I didn’t need tending to right now, he’d shift and tear the place to shreds. “They attacked my mate. I should end their sorry existence.”

“Arthur.” I place my palm against his cheek, bringing his focus back to me. “I’m okay. Really.”

I wince slightly at the burn, but stay still, watching Arthur’s face as he tends to my injuries. His brow is furrowed, his movements. delicate despite the rage I can feel radiating from him. He’s beautiful like this–protective, caring, fierce in his devotion.