Chapter 3

Cora

“Careful!” He was cradling Riley in his arms like he’d always been there.

No sound. No blur. Just impossible speed.

My mouth dropped open. It hit me all at once.

He was a werewolf.

It explained the raw power, the eyes, the instincts, the fury.

And it explained why my tip had offended him so deeply. What could be more insulting to a werewolf who drives a luxury car than being handed loose change?

I blushed deeply as all of these realizations rushed at me. Though I had started out the morning humiliated by Amy, I was filled with even more shame now.

He gently set Riley down, his touch oddly tender. And then he turned to go, quick as that.

I watched him leave, my mind spinning. It seemed impossible, what had just happened. What were the odds?

I held Riley’s hand tightly as we stepped into the examination room. I was still unnerved from everything that had just happened, my legs feeling weak beneath me. Being under the fluorescent lights did nothing to help calm my mounting anxiety.

The doctor greeted us with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He asked Riley to sit on the exam table, and I helped him up, smoothing his shirt and brushing his hair from his forehead.

“We’ve finished running all the tests,” the doctor said, turning to me. He was a middle-aged man who meant all business.

I nodded, bracing myself.

“Riley’s developmental speed has clearly surpassed the average for his age. His physical metrics, cognitive ability, and reflexes… they are all advanced. But that alone isn’t a cause for concern.”

There was a pause. My heart paused as well as I waited.

“There’s more?” I pressed, voice thin.

The doctor glanced at Riley, then back to me. “His bloodwork revealed some anomalies.”

My breath caught. “What kind of anomalies?”

Again, that long look. It was like he was silently weighing how much to say.

He lowered his voice. “We believe that if Riley were to get injured, especially if it involved bleeding, it must be stopped immediately. His blood coagulation is… unusual. It could pose a serious risk if left unchecked.”

I felt the floor tilt under me.

“What are you saying?” I whispered so that only the doctor could hear. I didn’t want Riley to pick up on this next part. “That he’s fragile?”

“Not exactly,” the doctor said carefully. “There’s something… different in his blood composition. Not weak, just unpredictable. We’re still trying to figure it out.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower. “That’s why we recommend testing the biological father. Without that, we can’t draw concrete conclusions.”

Of course. The biological father.

Not Zach.

Not anyone I knew.

The pain of everything—Zach’s betrayal, the divorce, the humiliation of publicly being accused of cheating—rushed back like a flood.

I remembered the report Zach had thrown at me, accusing me of ruining his life, claiming Riley wasn’t his son while all of our coworkers watched on. And in the thick of all of my recent emotional chaos, I hadn’t even had time to confirm anything with the hospital.

And now, it mattered more than ever.

Riley was looking up at me with a question in his dark eyes. He seemed so small sitting there. It was clear he knew that something was wrong.

I took Riley’s hand again and kissed his forehead. “We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

He nodded like the brave little soul he was.

***

Later that day, I made a trip to the IVF specimen collection center with Riley in tow. I set him down in the lobby before approaching the front desk. I couldn’t stand the thought of bringing Riley to overhear whatever might be revealed.

The receptionist scanned my ID and tapped the keyboard for a while, frowning slightly as she read the screen.

“Yes,” she said, drawing the word out. “You’re one of the flagged cases.”

“Flagged?” I echoed, dreading the answer.

“A former employee—he made several… errors. Left three years ago before he left. One of those errors was your file.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “So the sperm I was impregnated with wasn’t the donor I chose?”

“We believe that’s the case. We’ve narrowed it to two possible donors based on the timing and storage logs.”

She looked up at me with an expression that seemed almost like pity. “To confirm, we need the original IVF documentation. The one we issued at the time of your procedure. Without that, we can’t verify the father.”

Just as I was about to ask more questions, a shout rang out from the next room.

“How could you lose the sperm?!”

The door flew open and a man stormed out. His footsteps were heavy, and his fury was radiating off of him.

I froze.

Him.

The werewolf. The escort. The man I’d spent one unforgettable night with.

Of course he’d be here.

Of course.

But what were the odds that he would be here too? I hadn’t seen this man before last night and now I had run into him three times within twenty-four hours! Was my luck truly this bad?

As he strode angrily, I couldn’t help but pause to admire him. Tall, broad-shouldered, jaw clenched tight with rage. Even angry, he was distracting.

Suddenly, I ducked my head instinctively, praying he wouldn’t recognize me.

But he barely glanced my way. Fury was wafting from him, and he was clearly too filled with rage to pay me any mind. He stormed down the hall, muttering about incompetence and legal action.

I turned away from where he had just left, doors swinging in his wake. Before me was a wall, and my eyes caught on the posters that were layered over it.

My eyes landed on one that read: “Sperm Donor Compensation – Elite Rates for Enhanced Genetics.”

The list beneath it was quite detailed: bonuses for rare bloodlines, high stamina, regenerative ability…

My eyes flicked back toward the hallway where the werewolf had disappeared.

I exhaled a shaky laugh, partly from exhaustion, partly from disbelief.

It was clear now how he was able to afford his nice car and clothes. Not only from escorting, but from sperm donations as well. Given his stamina, he was an excellent candidate to rake it in here.

I turned back to the payment counter and handed over my main credit card. The clerk swiped it.

Declined.

I blinked. That couldn’t be right. “Can you try it again?”

She did.

Still declined.

I tried another card. And another. All of them bounced back with the same cold, robotic message: Transaction Rejected.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

No, there was only one reason all of these cards wouldn’t work. There was only one person who could be behind all of it.

Of course they’d all been frozen. Zach’s handiwork. He probably saw this coming and preemptively locked me out.

My heart sank to my shoes. I could feel the judgmental stares from behind me. Before I could say anything, a hand slid past me on the counter, placing a card that shimmered slightly under the lights.

“Use this,” a deep voice said.

I turned slowly.

It was him.

Of course it was him.

Again, I blinked stupidly. I almost couldn’t believe he had returned.

He didn’t even look at me, just handed over the card like it was nothing.

The clerk’s demeanor changed immediately. “Right away, sir.”

I turned back to him. “Thank you, but I can’t accept this without paying you back somehow. Let me at least write you an IOU or—”

He glanced at my pile of useless credit cards on the counter and smirked. “With what, those cards?”

I flushed. This might be the most humiliating day of my life.

“I—” I didn’t have an answer.

Before I could stammer out anything remotely intelligent, he turned and retrieved his card from the clerk. He gave her a tight, unconvincing smile. For me, he offered nothing.

And with that, he walked away without another word.

I stared after him, stunned and mortified and… confused.

Again.

***

When Riley and I finally got back to the house, I was hoping for a break. I desperately needed one.

I would’ve given anything for a moment of quiet. I might have even been satisfied with five blessed minutes to think about nothing.

But of course, I couldn’t have that.

Instead, I opened the door to find Amy—of all people—sitting on the couch, legs crossed like she belonged there.

She looked up with faux surprise. “Oh! I thought you would be gone longer.”

“What are you doing here?” I snapped.

“Oh, Zach said I could stay,” she said casually, gesturing to her overnight bag. The bag in my hallway.

In my house.

“Zach!” I yelled, voice echoing through the hall.

He appeared, stumbling slightly, reeking of whiskey.

“What?” he slurred.

“What the hell is going on?” My eyes flicked back and forth between him and his smug mistress. Amy’s mouth was quirked in a smirk as she watched on.

He laughed. “You don’t get to question me. This house is mine. You think you can run around, get knocked up by some random wolf, and still come back here?”

Riley pressed his face against my leg, hiding.

“Zach,” I started, my voice tight and barely restrained. “This is our house too. Don’t—”

Zach cut me off, pointing at Riley with a shaky finger. “Get out of my house! And take that bastard kid without a father with you!”