POV: IRIS
I step off the plane, dragging my suitcase behind me.
I stop for a moment in the airport hall.
So… this is Atlanta.
A soft, cool breeze brushes against my face, lifting my hair. I grab my suitcase again and head toward the exit, not really knowing where to go.
I leave my father behind me, determined not to say a single word to him.
But suddenly, I feel my suitcase being pulled back.
I turn abruptly and meet his dark green eyes. He's holding my suitcase in one hand and his bag in the other.
I pull, to make him understand I don't need his help.
In vain.
He snatches the suitcase out of my hands effortlessly and turns away, as if nothing happened.
I clench my fists and teeth to hold back everything I want to scream at him, then follow him, reluctantly, toward the airport exit.
But instead of calling a taxi, he heads toward a black Range Rover parked in front of the entrance.
Two muscular men, dressed in dark jackets, stand near the vehicle.
— Alpha, well… starts one of them, before being interrupted by the other — a blond with green eyes and a cold stare.
The other, darker-skinned with tattoos on his arms, immediately continues, visibly uneasy:
— Welcome, sir.
I stare at them, confused. My father just waves his hand dismissively.
This man is unbearable...
He gets into the car while the two men load the luggage into the trunk.
I stand frozen for a few seconds, not knowing what to do, until he calls me:
— Iris.
Reluctantly, I walk toward the vehicle.
— Welcome, princess, say the two men in unison.
— Thanks… I mumble, uncomfortable, before getting in.
I sit as far away from my father as possible.
The interior of the Range Rover is luxurious: leather seats, the smell of new, golden finishes.
I keep my eyes fixed on the landscape through the window, feeling his gaze heavy on me.
The car leaves the city and drives down a road lined with dark, thick forests.
The denser the trees become, the more goosebumps I get.
It feels like something could jump out from between the trees at any moment.
After a long, silent drive, the vehicle stops.
I let my father get out first, then follow him.
And then, my jaw nearly drops.
Before me stands a real palace.
A massive building, made of pale stone and metallic arabesques, towers over a perfectly kept garden.
White columns support a balcony of wrought iron, while the stained-glass windows reflect the evening light in a thousand golden shades.
The gate — as tall as a wall — slowly closes behind us with a creak.
Everything here reeks of wealth, power… and something inexplicably unsettling.
— Do you like it? my father asks.
I instantly lose whatever faint smile I had and turn my gaze toward the nearby forest.
A strange shiver runs through me, as if something in there… were calling me.
— My love!
The feminine voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
I turn and see a woman in her forties, tall, with brown skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes.
She walks toward my father with a wide smile before wrapping her arms around him.
I look away, uncomfortable.
— How was the flight? she asks softly. And… did she agree to come with you?
— Hayler… my father begins in a weary tone.
I feel his gaze slide toward me.
I finally turn around and meet the eyes of the woman I can only assume is his wife.
She approaches slowly, studying me as if trying to read through me.
Then, without warning, she hugs me.
I freeze. My arms hang limply at my sides, unable to react.
— Welcome to your home, sweetheart, she says softly, smiling before stepping back.
I can't bring myself to smile back.
Maybe it's selfish… but I can't help wondering if she's the reason my father abandoned us.
— Come on, you must be tired from the flight, she says, turning toward the entrance.
Mechanically, I follow her and my father inside.
The interior of the palace is even more breathtaking.
The white marble floor reflects the light from crystal chandeliers, the walls are adorned with gold accents, and the air smells of jasmine and beeswax.
A monumental staircase rises to the upper floor, while several portraits of old faces seem to watch us from the walls.
— Sonia! calls my father's wife as we enter.
A young woman in her twenties, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, steps forward.
— Yes, ma'am?
— Sweetheart, Sonia will take you to your room. We'll meet again later, okay?
I nod.
The woman gives me a cold look before saying curtly:
— Follow me, please.
Something tells me she and I won't be friends.
I can still feel my father's gaze on me, but I keep walking.
— Iris, he says.
I stop.
— If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me. You're home here.
I clench my fists, say nothing, and keep following Sonia upstairs.
The hallway is bright, the walls beige, the lights casting a golden glow.
Suddenly, Sonia stops.
— Oh no… I just remembered I have something to do, she says with a fake smile.
Your room is the first on the left. I hope you don't mind.
I shake my head.
She walks away, leaving me alone.
I move toward the dark wooden door and push it open.
The room is huge — far too big for me.
Cream-colored walls trimmed with gold, a crystal chandelier, and a canopy bed draped in ivory curtains.
A large bay window overlooks the forest, its dark silhouette stretching endlessly.
I stand there, speechless, then remember my suitcase is still downstairs.
I turn to leave… but the sound of a door slamming makes me freeze.
I turn around — and my heart skips a beat.
A man stands there, shirtless, wearing only a towel around his waist.
He's tall. Very tall.
His light blue eyes pierce through me, his square jaw and perfect features making him look like a living statue.
Droplets of water slide down his sculpted torso, disappearing into the towel.
A tattoo of a snarling wolf marks his left pectoral, and a withered flower decorates the other.
I swallow hard.
His gaze darkens.
In an instant, he's in front of me — his hands close around my neck, and my feet lift off the ground.
— Who are you? he growls, his voice deep and menacing.
I struggle, panicked. The air won't come. My vision blurs.
I hit him, try to push him away, but he doesn't move.
I kick wildly, trying to reach something, knocking over a lamp that crashes loudly to the floor.
— Answer me, miserable human, before I snap your neck!
— Let her go!
My father's voice echoes through the room.
Tears well up in my eyes.
Everything is growing hazy.
— Why should I? She's an intruder, the man growls.
— My son, let her go! She's your sister! Hayler screams.
My mind goes blank. I think it's the end for me — but suddenly he releases me.
I collapse hard on the floor, gasping.
Hayler rushes to me, helping me catch my breath by patting my back gently.
When I finally manage to breathe again, anger erupts.
— Are you insane or what?! I scream, pointing at him.
He stares, surprised. His eyes… change. They turn brown — dark, deep brown.
I step back.
— Your eyes…
He looks away.
— You should stay away from me, he murmurs. Next time, no one will be here to save you.
I laugh bitterly.
— A threat? If you're going to threaten someone, at least have the guts to look them in the eye, you coward. You don't scare me — and I have no reason to go anywhere near you, psycho!
He clenches his fists, veins bulging along his arms. But he doesn't bother to face me or respond.
— Iris, come on, sweetheart, says my father's wife, Hayler, grabbing my arm. You must be exhausted.
She pulls me out of the room, followed closely by my father.
I've barely arrived… and I already hate this place.
And then, one sentence echoes in my head.
"She's your sister."
A brother?
Older. Which means he's Hayler's son.
Deep down, I can already feel that my life here won't be easy — or peaceful.