Chapter 63

Kingston

I didn’t knock.

The pull toward her was so intense that I knew she was behind the door without having to ask or check who was inside.

The motel door was thin enough that I could hear the soft shuffle of feet from within, the low murmur of a television, and the sound of a child laughing. Riley.

He was alive, as I had suspected. He was okay. I braced a hand on the doorframe as my lungs struggled to expand, as if they’d been frozen until this moment.

Then the door creaked open.

Cora stood on the other side, pulled to me by the same energy that tethered us together, no doubt.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy braid, dark circles under her eyes, her frame thinner than I remembered. She wore a threadbare hoodie and jeans, barefoot on the cheap carpet, and yet she looked more like home than my mansion ever had.

For a beat, neither of us said anything. What was there to say? So much. Too much.

Then her lips parted, and all she managed was, “Kingston.”

Relief crashed into me like a tidal wave. “Cora,” I whispered, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

My hands trembled at my sides, but I didn’t touch her. I didn’t dare. Not yet.

“Riley’s trying to get some sleep,” she said quietly, glancing toward the bed where his small form was curled up beneath a blanket.

“I know he’s not doing a great job at it,” I said. “I heard him laugh.”

She blinked fast, like she wasn’t sure whether to cry or collapse.

“I looked for you,” I said. “I tore the country apart following you.”

“I didn’t want you to.”

“Too bad.”

I closed the distance between us in two strides. She didn’t back away. That’s how I knew this wasn’t over.

“Do you feel it?” I asked, barely above a breath. “The bond. It brought me to you. It’s been humming in my chest like it’s trying to tear through me.”

Her eyes glistened. “Yes.”

“I should’ve known,” I murmured, staring at her mouth like it held all the answers I’d ever need. “Back in the lab, when I nearly lost you. In the hospital. At the gala. Every moment I looked at you and didn’t say it—I should’ve known you were mine.”

“I was in denial,” she admitted. “I thought… It sounded too good to be true, and I didn’t want to be your weakness.

“You’re not a weakness,” I said fiercely. “You’re the only damn thing that makes me stronger.”

She closed her eyes.

“I’ve made mistakes,” I said. “So many. But not loving you? That was never one of them.”

I touched her face, caressing her cheek. “I think I knew even before the bond made itself known.”

Her breath hitched.

“I know you’re scared. And you have every right to be. But I’m here. And I’m not leaving.”

Her shoulders trembled, and her lips moved, but it wasn’t the declaration I expected. Instead, she whispered, “There are a few things you need to know.”

I froze.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice suddenly hoarse.

She looked up at me with a calmness that didn’t match the storm in her expression.

“My wolf spoke to me. I’m… I’m the Moon’s Daughter.”

The words hit me like a blow to the chest.

I took a step back. Not from fear. From impact.

“The prophecy?” I asked slowly.

She nodded. “She woke up… on the road. When she sensed you coming closer, she said I was close to the truth. That my mate was near. That I’d been asleep for too long.”

My mind spun. “That’s why your wolf was sealed. Why you couldn’t shift. Why your scent was muted. Someone buried the truth from you.”

“I don’t know who or how. But I can feel her now,” Cora said. “Not fully. But… she’s there.”

I stared at her, this woman I thought I knew, and realized I’d only seen the surface. She was so much deeper, so much more, an endless depth.

Cora wasn’t just a fighter. She was chosen. Marked by the Moon. The prophesied savior who would bring humans and werewolves to harmony.

And yet, despite everything, she stood in front of me, humble, shaking, and terrified.

“I’m not ready,” she admitted. “I don’t know what this prophecy means. I don’t want power or titles or fate deciding who I am. I just want my son to be safe. I want… you. But I don’t know if I’m allowed to have that anymore.”

I reached out slowly, letting my hand brush her cheek again.

“You’re allowed to have whatever you want,” I said. “If this prophecy is real—and I believe it is—then it chose the right person. You’ve never let fear stop you before.”

“This feels different.”

“Because it is. But you’re not alone in this.”

Her eyes met mine. Raw. Open.

“I left because I thought it was the only way to protect you and Riley,” she said. “But now… I’m tired of running. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.”

A deep, primal part of me howled in response.

I drew her into my arms, holding her like she might vanish again if I loosened my grip. Her hands clutched my back, fingers twisting into my shirt like she couldn’t bear to let go.

“Whatever power sleeps inside you,” I whispered into her hair, “we’ll face it together.”

She nodded into my chest.

“I missed you so much,” she said, voice cracking.

“I know,” I said. “Me too.”

Behind us, Riley stirred in his sleep, turning over with a small, contented sigh.

“We should get him somewhere safer than this place,” I said. “Come home with me.”

Cora hesitated. “It’s not safe there either. Not if the pack finds out what we are.”

“They won’t. Not yet. We’ll protect it. We’ll keep it secret until you’re ready. Until we both are.”

Her brow creased. “And if they force your hand?”

“Then I’ll cut it off.”

She blinked.

I smirked. “Figuratively. Mostly.”

Cora gave a soft, exhausted laugh. And in that moment, something heavy lifted from her face.

“Okay,” she said.

I touched her face again, brushing back a loose strand of hair. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

“I’ve been carrying it for so long,” she whispered. “I forgot what it feels like to share the weight.”

“Then let me remind you.”

I kissed her gently, reverently. Not a kiss of possession or hunger—just a promise. That I was here. That I wasn’t going anywhere.

When we pulled apart, she touched her forehead to mine.

“We should wake Riley,” she said softly. “Start fresh.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “A new beginning.”

She stepped away and crouched beside the bed, whispering Riley’s name.

I watched as our son opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at her. I watched as he reached out, murmuring, “Mommy?”

And then his gaze slid to me.

His eyes widened. “Daddy?”

Tears sprang to my eyes before I could stop them.

Cora looked up at me and nodded.

“Hey, bud,” I said, crouching beside them. “Miss me?”

Riley launched into my arms with all the force his little body could muster, and I caught him like he was the most precious thing I’d ever held.

“That’s the second thing you should know,” Cora said quietly. “I think Riley is your true son.”

For a moment, I was stunned, shellshocked, but soon, it all fell into place. It made sense. It felt right.

And as I held them, one arm around Cora, the other cradling Riley, I knew the truth.

This was my purpose. My future.

Not the throne. Not the title.

This.

My mate. My son. My family.