Chapter 11

Cora

Despite how sharp Kingston's words had been, I couldn’t bring myself to be upset. His tone might’ve been cold—maybe even mocking—but he’d stepped in when I needed him most.

He’d saved me from Zach.

When Zach had grabbed me, when the whole office stood watching in hushed judgment, it was Kingston’s voice that broke through the veil of humiliation. It was Kingston alone who made it stop.

And now, somehow, I was in the elevator with him, heading to the underground garage for the day’s lab inspection.

I kept my eyes forward, posture stiff, clutching the tablet with the inspection schedule like it was a shield. The awkward feeling between us was like a physical, tangible thing.

My reflection in the elevator door was messier than I would have liked—eyes puffy, makeup smudged, jaw clenched. So much for looking professional. So much for composure.

Thanks a lot, Zach.

My hand trembled as I wiped under my eyes with the back of my hand, turning my head away to shield the gesture. I didn’t want Kingston to see. I didn’t want to seem even weaker than I already must’ve appeared.

The elevator began its slow descent, humming around us. My heart still hadn’t calmed.

I’d barely slept. The adrenaline from the encounter with Zach had burned through my system, and now the weight of everything—the stress, the shame, the guilt, the fatigue, the expectations—hit me all at once.

The fluorescent lights overhead flickered in our descent, and my knees buckled slightly.

I barely managed to catch myself against the elevator wall, pressing my palm to the cold metal to steady my vision. Everything swayed. My head spun.

I heard movement beside me.

Then Kingston’s voice, quieter than before. “Lean on me,” he said. “Just for work.”

I blinked at him.

His face was expressionless, his eyes focused on the elevator doors as though what he’d just said was the most natural thing in the world. But there had been a softness to his voice, a soothing sense of comfort that was like a balm against my stinging emotions.

“I— I’m fine,” I mumbled, even as my legs wobbled again.

Kingston’s hand shifted, hovering near my shoulder. He didn’t touch me, but the offer remained unspoken.

Finally, I surrendered because I really didn’t want to pass out in front of my boss. I leaned gently against his shoulder.

It was warm and unexpectedly steady. His coat smelled faintly of cedar and something earthy, distinctly masculine.

We stayed like that in silence. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

Then I felt it.

A subtle shift in the air.

I glanced up.

He was staring at me—not coldly, not with annoyance. Just watching. Intently.

His eyes had widened as though hoping to drink me in as he studied me. It looked like he was trying to make sense of something.

I had never seen that expression on him before. I couldn’t understand it.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious. “Is there something on my face?”

Maybe I had more makeup from my earlier tears. When would the humiliation stop?

He blinked, as if he was waking up, shaken from a deep thought as he emerged back in reality. “Are you sure both of your parents are human?”

I blinked back, caught off guard by the random question. “Uh… yeah. I mean, unless my mom had some kind of secret werewolf boyfriend she never told me about, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

He didn’t answer. His jaw tensed ever so slightly.

“Why do you ask?” I pressed gently, trying not to let my voice shake.

“No reason,” he said finally, eyes narrowing in thought.

The silence settled back over us, even more stifling than it had been before.

The elevator chimed. Saved by the bell.

We stepped out into the dim parking garage, and I quickly put space between us, forcing myself to refocus. I wasn’t here to decode Kingston’s strange glances or decipher his mysterious questions. I had a job to do.

We loaded into his expensive-looking car and were silent for the entire drive there. The lab was a few miles away, and it was one of the private facilities owned by the company’s biotech branch.

When we arrived, I straightened my blouse, checked my makeup again in the car mirror, and stepped into the building with Kingston beside me.

I introduced the staff to him, matching every name with the right face and title. Hours of over-preparing had paid off. I caught the slight raise of Kingston’s eyebrow as I greeted each researcher with confident precision.

The lab was clinical and bright, but the energy was… heavy. The researchers were mostly hybrids, half-werewolf, half-human. It was obvious even at a glance they weren’t treated equally. Some worked laborious, menial tasks, their shoulders hunched over and gazes on the floor.

One of the researchers—Cliff, a hybrid with rough hands and slightly graying hair—walked by, bent over with a clipboard and scribbling madly. As he passed, a supervisor barked his name.

“Cliff! How many times do I have to tell you? You ruined the sequencing samples again!”

Cliff muttered an apology and tried to explain, but the supervisor talked over him.

“You can’t even manage lab work. Useless! I should fire you and get a real tech.”

I froze, disgust bubbling up in my throat. The supervisor was publicly berating someone for the simple fact that he was an easy target. As we got closer, the supervisor turned and seemed to realize who had entered.

“Oh! Mr. Kingston. Apologies for the noise. This hybrid keeps messing up the sequencing samples. If you’d like, I can terminate him and have someone else brought in.”

I held my breath.

Kingston looked at him flatly. “And who trained him?”

The supervisor hesitated. “Well… I assigned Cliff’s onboarding to an assistant—”

“Then you failed in your oversight,” Kingston said. “As a supervisor, both the data and the staff are your responsibility. Shifting blame doesn’t move the project forward.”

The man’s face turned pale. He looked just as dumbstruck as I felt.

“You’re being demoted,” Kingston added. “Effective immediately. Perhaps you will do a lower-level job better.”

The man stammered, trying to recover, but Kingston raised a hand to silence him. He turned to the others in the room.

“Solving the problem matters more than assigning blame,” he said, his voice cutting through the sterile air like a blade. “Remember that.”

I didn’t even try to hide my admiration. For all his aloofness, Kingston was a leader—and a just one, at that.

He didn’t just bark orders and demand results. He protected the people working under him. Even the ones society already deemed lesser.

And maybe that’s why they all followed him. Maybe that’s how he had become one of the most respectable CEOs at one of the largest companies in the nation. Maybe that’s why…

My heart fluttered when I looked at him just a second too long.

We finished the inspection with minimal hiccups after that. The research was promising, the notes extensive. This new drug could change everything for those like Cliff.

It felt… important. Meaningful.

My phone buzzed just as we exited the lab.

I was about to deny the call so that I didn’t look unprofessional until I glanced down. It was a call from Riley’s kindergarten.

A pit formed in my stomach. I answered quickly.

“Hello?” the teacher’s voice was gentle but firm. “We need you to come in. There’s been an incident. Riley… got into a fight with some other children.”

“What? Is Riley hurt?”

A low growl emitted from deep in Kingston's chest. I did my best to push the sound aside and ignore it.

“No serious injuries, but we’d prefer to speak in person,” the women said. “The situation was… complicated.”

My heart dropped. “I’m on my way.”

I turned to Kingston, cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry. Something happened at my son’s school. I have to go.”

He studied me for a moment, then gave a single nod. “Get in the car.”

I couldn’t have my boss taking me to my son’s kindergarten. It was so out of place, so unprofessional. “I can’t—”

“It wasn’t a request.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. So I just nodded, clutching my phone tightly as I quickly followed him to the car.