Iris
Ezra’s words take me by surprise. My eyes flick to the torn spot on his suit jacket where his Beta pin belongs—it’s as if it was removed by force.
“You… want my… help?” I ask, tilting my head.
Ezra takes a step forward. “He’s not acting like himself, Iris. Something is wrong.”
I’m not sure what to say. As much as I trust Ezra, he is Arthur’s Beta. Did Arthur put him up to this, I wonder? Some kind of tactic to make me do something crazy? Another opportunity, perhaps, to publicly humiliate me?
“Perhaps you should sit,” my mother suggests, gesturing toward the seat beside me.
Ezra follows her gesture, and we all sit back down. Now that he’s closer, I can see the lines etched deep into Ezra’s face—he looks worried. Very worried. I glance up behind him, noticing Em
