I didn't tell Cody about meeting his father. Not yet. He was too young to understand the complications, too innocent to know what it meant.
Instead, I told him we were going to the park to meet someone special.
"A friend, Mummy?" he asked, bouncing with excitement.
"Something like that."
The park was busy with families enjoying the sunny afternoon. Children played on swings and slides while parents watched from benches. It looked so normal. So peaceful.
I found an empty bench and sat with Cody, my nerves frayed.
"When's your friend coming?" Cody asked, looking around.
"Soon, sweetheart."
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"A man. A very important man."
"Like a king?"
My throat tightened. "Yes. Like a king."
I spotted Jack before he saw us. He stood at the park entrance, dressed casually but still somehow commanding attention. People moved out of his way instinctively, recognizing power even when it wasn't announced.
Our eyes met across the distance. He started toward us, and I felt Cody tense beside me.
"Mummy, who's that?"
"That's the man I wanted you to meet."
Jack stopped a few feet away, his gaze locked on Cody. I watched emotions play across his face. Shock. Wonder. Something that looked like grief. Cody stared back, his silver eyes wide.
"You look like me," Cody said suddenly.
Jack's breath caught. "I do, don't I?"
"Are you my daddy?"
The question hung in the air, innocent and devastating. Jack looked at me, and I nodded slightly.
"Yes," he said, his voice rough. "Yes, I'm your daddy."
Cody scrambled off the bench and walked right up to Jack, tilting his head back to study him. "Why haven't I met you before?"
"That's complicated."
"Mummy says grown-up things are always complicated."
Jack smiled, a real smile that transformed his face. "Your mummy is very smart."
"I know. She's the best mummy in the world."
"I believe that."
Cody reached out and took Jack's hand. Just like that. No fear. No hesitation.
"Can you push me on the swing?" he asked.
Jack looked at me again, seeking permission. I nodded.
"I'd love to," he said.
I watched them walk to the swings together, Cody chattering away about school and his favorite things, Jack listening intently to every word. My heart ached.
This was what I'd been afraid of. Not that Jack would take Cody away, but that Cody would love him immediately. That my son would bond with his father and I'd lose the exclusive place I'd held in his heart.
But seeing them together, seeing Jack's careful gentleness and Cody's joy, I couldn't regret it.
My son deserved a father. Even if that father was the most dangerous man in the kingdom.
An hour later, Cody was exhausted from playing. He curled up on the bench between us, his head on my lap.
"He's wonderful," Jack said softly.
"He is."
"You did well raising him."
The compliment surprised me. "Thank you."
"I meant what I said. I'm not trying to take him from you." He watched Cody sleep. "But I do want to be part of his life. A real part."
"What does that mean?"
"It means regular visits. It means him knowing he has a father who cares about him. It means..." He paused. "It means we need to figure out how to do this together."
"I don't know how to do that."
"Neither do I. But we'll learn."
A woman walked past, pushing a stroller. She glanced at us and did a double-take, recognition dawning in her eyes.
"That's the Alpha," she whispered to her companion.
"And that woman with him. And that child. They look like a family."
My stomach sank. "We should go."
"Let them look," Jack said.
"You don't understand. If people think we're together, if they think Cody is yours—"
"He is mine."
"But they don't need to know that. Not yet. Not until we figure this out."
He studied me for a long moment. "You're afraid."
"Of course I'm afraid. You're the Alpha King. I'm nobody. When this comes out, I'll be torn apart by your enemies and your court."
"I'll protect you."
"You can't protect me from everything."
"Watch me."
His certainty should have been comforting. Instead, it terrified me.
Because protection came with strings. With expectations. With a price I wasn't sure I was willing to pay.
Cody stirred, opening his sleepy eyes. "Time to go home?"
"Yes, sweetheart."
I picked him up, and he wrapped his arms around my neck.
Jack stood. "I'll walk you to your car."
"That's not necessary."
"I wasn't asking."
We walked in silence, Cody drowsing on my shoulder. When we reached my old, battered car, Jack frowned.
"This is what you're driving?"
"It works."
"Barely." He pulled out his phone. "I'm sending you a new vehicle."
"No."
"Aurora, this thing is a death trap."
"I don't want your charity."
"It's not charity. It's common sense. My son rides in this car. I want him safe."
"Our son is fine."
"He'd be better in something that won't break down on the side of the road."
I opened my mouth to argue, but Cody piped up. "I like new cars, Mummy."
Traitor.
Jack smiled. "See? The boy has sense."
I buckled Cody into his car seat, defeated. "Fine. But nothing flashy."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Before I could get in the driver's side, Jack caught my arm.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For today. For letting me meet him."
"He's your son too. You had the right."
"Still. Thank you."
We stood there, too close, the air between us charged with something I didn't want to name.
"I should go," I said.
"I'll call you tomorrow. To arrange another visit."
"Okay." But neither of us moved.
"Aurora," he started, then stopped. "Never mind. Drive safe."
I got in the car and pulled away, watching him in the rearview mirror until he disappeared from view.
Something had shifted today. Some line had been crossed. And I had no idea if that was good or dangerous—probably both.