Chapter 42

Cora

His hands braced on either side of my shoulders. His eyes searched mine, not for permission—he’d already read the answer in every glance I gave him—but for confirmation that this was real. That I wanted this as much as he did.

I reached up, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m not running this time,” I whispered.

That was all it took.

His mouth found mine again, deeper now, laced with something fierce and aching. My hands fisted in his shirt as he pulled me into him, our bodies aligning like two halves of something finally falling into place.

Clothes came off between kisses and hushed gasps, scattered like confessions across the hallway floor.

He guided me to the bedroom and I nearly stumbled after him my haste, made clumsy by my desire.

When we fell into the bed, it wasn’t rushed or reckless; it was deliberate. Every kiss, every touch felt like a question and an answer all at once.

His hands moved over me like he was memorizing everything he’d once tried to ignore. And I let him.

We moved together in a rhythm we hadn’t rehearsed but somehow knew by instinct. When he whispered my name against my skin, it didn’t sound like a name. It sounded like a vow.

And just when I was about to fall apart, to reach my peak and shatter, I heard a voice.

It was not Kingston and it was certainly not my own.

Wake up, it called.

A soft whisper—low, feminine, and strange—in the back of my mind. I gasped—partially from the shock of it all, and partially from the intense pleasure—as I broke apart into a million pieces under Kingston’s touch.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

The heat of Kingston’s body beside mine still clung to my skin, long after the night had settled into silence. The sheets were tangled around our legs, the air thick with everything unspoken.

I could still feel the imprint of his fingertips on my hips, my throat, the small of my back—marks left not just on my body, but somewhere deeper, somewhere I hadn’t dared touch in years.

He was asleep now, or else pretending to be. Either way, I wasn’t ready to look at him. I stared at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven, like my body hadn’t gotten the memo that the storm had passed.

My heart still galloped inside me. Because something big had just happened.

Not just the sex, though it had been electric, hungry, and real. No. It was something stranger, something impossibly more intimate than the press of skin.

It was that voice. That faint, almost imperceptible whisper curling around the edges of my consciousness like a forgotten melody.

The words hadn’t come from Kingston. It hadn’t come from me. They had floated up through the fog of afterglow and exhaustion, threading themselves into the spaces between my thoughts.

And I had felt it, like the brushing of fur beneath my skin, like a howl long buried under the weight of years and shame.

I turned my head slightly, watching Kingston’s profile in the moonlight. He looked… calm. Guard down, jaw slack in sleep. Vulnerable in a way he never was during the day.

God. What had we done? What were we doing?

My fingers curled over the sheet. The drug—whatever Daisy had slipped into the wine—had been like a truth serum and under its influence, I’d told him exactly how I felt.

I love you.

Three words that had burned hotter than any fever. But he hadn’t flinched. Not then. He’d reached for me, steadied me. And later—God, later—he had pulled me into his arms like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

But what now?

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to quiet my racing thoughts.

But the whisper came again. This time, just a word. Just presence. Gentle. Familiar.

Hello.

It wasn’t a sound in my ears. It was a warmth in my mind. A soft nudge. It didn’t make sense. I wasn’t a shifter. I never had been.

I was human… or so I’d been told.

My mother had always said the wolf skipped me. “You’re different,” she’d whispered once when she thought I couldn’t hear. “Normal. Better off.”

But I remembered the way her voice had cracked.

Now, in the dark beside the Alpha King in his manor, I felt something unravel.

You’re not alone.

I gasped. My hand flew to my chest as the realization crashed into me. This voice—this presence—was mine.

My wolf.

Faint, tentative, but real.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth to keep from sobbing out loud.

Years of feeling broken, lesser. Years of watching others shift and snarl and hunt while I sat on the sidelines pretending it didn’t sting. All this time, she had been there. Hiding. Waiting.

For what?

I turned to Kingston again. The clock on the nightstand beside him blinked 3:12 AM.

I sat up carefully, letting the sheet slip down to my waist. The cool air kissed my skin. I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to breathe, needed space to think.

Padding quietly across the room, I found my clothes folded neatly on a nearby chair. Even after everything, he thought of the little things. My heart clenched again.

In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes wide and stunned.

Was this real? Could my wolf truly be waking up? And if she was, what did it mean for Riley? For Kingston? For me?

I didn’t want to run from this anymore. Not from Kingston. Not from my wolf. Not from myself.

“Cora?” His voice, low and rough with sleep, came from behind me.

I turned. He was leaning against the doorframe, shirtless, hair tousled, eyes soft with concern.

“You okay?” he asked.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then I nodded. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Just… needed a second.”

When he reached for me, he didn’t touch me right away. Just stood there, studying me.

“You feel different,” he murmured.

I met his gaze. “I think… something inside me is changing. I heard her.”

“Heard who?” His brows were knitted together in confusion.

“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense. I mean, I was told that it skipped me and that I didn’t inherit it but… But maybe my mom was wrong.”

“Cora, who are you talking about?”

I sighed, steeling myself. “My wolf. I heard her.”

His eyes widened slightly, then darkened. “You’re sure?”

I nodded, tears threatening again. “She’s faint, but she’s there. I don’t know what triggered it—maybe the drug, maybe you, maybe everything—but I can feel her.”

Kingston pulled me to him then, cupping my face in his hands. “Cora… that’s not nothing. That’s everything. Do you understand what a huge deal this is?”

He seemed ecstatic, but I couldn’t match his enthusiasm just then.

I let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared.”

“I know.” He pulled me into his chest. “But you’re not alone anymore.”

For the first time in a very long time, I believed it.