Chapter 31

Cora

I laughed as I adjusted Riley’s hat for the hundredth time.

“Can we ride the bumper cars again?” he whined.

"You’ve already been on them three times! Maybe in a little bit," I bargained, tugging the brim low over his forehead. "We have to meet up with the group, remember?"

The parent-child retreat had been Kingston’s idea. It was a public relations move disguised as a workplace bonding event.

Of course, the venue he picked was no ordinary amusement park. It was a sprawling, private wonderland that had been completely reserved for the day, filled with shimmering rides, gourmet food stands, and smiling attendants who made everything seem effortless.

But not even the glossy perfection of the park could cover up the way every eye tracked me and Riley as we moved through the crowds.

A human and her half-human son.

Not exactly a subtle presence among the proud full-blooded wolves and their heirs.

The pressure of it settled heavily on my chest.

Which was why, when Kingston approached me near the carousel, his expression calm but his voice low and urgent, I didn't hesitate to nod when he suggested, "We should pretend we're together. You know, for Riley’s sake."

I blinked up at him, startled as I bobbed my head, the idea taking form. “Together... like, together together?” I clarified.

He gave a small, almost sheepish smile. “It’ll take the heat off you. And Riley. They won’t dare say anything if they think you’re—” His jaw tightened slightly. “—under my protection.”

I hesitated for only a second.

Then I glanced down at Riley, who was busy chattering with another child.

"Okay," I said, my voice quiet. "For Riley."

Kingston’s answering nod was slow, deliberate. “For Riley.”

And just like that, I found myself walking alongside the Alpha King, our steps matching naturally, as if we’d done this a thousand times before.

As we navigated through the park, Kingston kept a respectful distance at first, letting the illusion be subtle. But the longer we walked, things began to take on a strangely comfortable cadence.

There were the small, casual touches and the way he reached for Riley’s shoulder to steer him in the right direction. And when he placed a steady, warm hand on the small of my back to guide me through a narrow gateway? I felt it all throughout me, radiating from where his hand was placed to my toes and scalp.

His touch was gentle, careful, but it burned through the thin cotton of my shirt like fire.

I fought not to lean into it.

"You’re doing fine," Kingston murmured once as we paused by a lemonade stand.

His hand lingered a second longer than necessary, firm and reassuring.

I made myself nod. “I think they’re buying it,” I said. There had been fewer cutting looks, at least.

Kingston grinned. “They’d be fools to call the Alpha King a liar.”

That smile.

It was so rare and so beautiful.

I nodded mutely, heart hammering against my ribs, pretending to sip from Riley’s half-finished lemonade just to give my hands something to do.

Get a grip, Cora.

This wasn’t real. It was protection.

Nothing more.

By the time we finally made it to the Ferris wheel, the boys were buzzing with excitement.

“We have to ride together!” Riley insisted, dragging another kid along by the hand.

Kingston chuckled. "We can fit all four of us in one cabin."

As we queued up, I found myself fidgeting with the strap of my bag, nerves dancing under my skin. The Ferris wheel towered over the park, its colorful cabins swaying gently in the summer breeze.

When it was our turn, the attendant directed us to a polished blue car. Riley and his new friend immediately scrambled to one side. They pressed their faces to the glass, eager before we had even begun rising.

Kingston and I settled opposite them, knees brushing in the cramped space.

The door clanged shut, and with a lurch, we began to rise. The fairground fell away, becoming doll-sized as we were elevated into the clouds.

For a few moments, I forgot about everything—the rumors, the whispers, the ever-present fear of being human among wolves. I couldn’t remember feeling such bliss in a long time.

"This was a good idea," I said softly, glancing at him.

He met my gaze, something warm and unguarded flickering there for a heartbeat. "I agree. I'm glad you think so, too."

The Ferris wheel creaked higher. A soft breeze filtered through the open slats, carrying the scent of popcorn and fresh-cut grass.

I let myself lean back against the seat, my hand brushing his on the bench between us.

Just a brush. But enough to make my pulse jump.

I didn't move away. Neither did he.

We were near the very top when it happened.

A sudden jolt rocked the cabin, throwing me to the side.

"Whoa—!" I gasped, reaching instinctively for balance.

Kingston moved at the same time, his hand shooting out to steady me.

Except instead of catching myself properly, the motion threw me straight into him, and before I could react, my mouth collided with his.

The kiss wasn’t planned. It wasn’t graceful.

It was a startled meeting of lips, a sharp breath caught between us, the sudden heat of him pressed against me.

For one suspended moment, the world disappeared—the swaying cabin, the squeals of children, the roar of the park below. There was only the shocking warmth of his mouth on mine. The way my heart punched against my ribs, desperate and wild.

Then reality snapped back into place.

I jerked back, mortified, my cheeks blazing.

Kingston’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted.

"I— I’m sorry," I stammered, covering my mouth with my hand. I could still feel the light pressure of his lips there. "I didn’t mean to—"

He said nothing for a second, just stared at me, something unreadable passing through his gaze.

"No harm done," he said softly.

But his voice was different. Rougher around the edges.

And he looked... rattled.

Which did absolutely nothing to calm the chaos roaring inside me.

The boys, mercifully oblivious, continued their chatter, pointing out landmarks below as the Ferris wheel made its slow descent.

I sat frozen, every nerve in my body hyper-aware of Kingston sitting just inches away, the ghost of that accidental kiss lingering on my lips like a secret between us.

Had it meant anything? Was it just the shock, the momentum, and nothing more? Or had there been something real in that split-second of breathless connection?

I didn't know.

And I was terrified to find out.

When the cabin finally lurched to a stop at the bottom, Kingston rose first, offering me a hand.

I hesitated for half a second too long before slipping my fingers into his.

His grip was warm. Firm. Steady in a way I no longer felt.

As he helped me down, his thumb brushed across the back of my hand. It sent a zap of awareness rushing through me.

And when our eyes met, I knew.

He felt it too.

Neither of us said a word.

We simply gathered the boys and headed into the golden afternoon, the pretend roles we’d agreed upon slipping dangerously close to something neither of us dared name.

And deep in my chest, one terrifying thought whispered louder than the rest:

I don’t want it to be pretend anymore.