Chapter 5
Chance
Chance told himself it was just the easy, temporary companionship that came from shared laughter, refreshing water, and the kind of day that didn’t ask anything of him.
But even as he followed Randi up the winding staircase toward another water slide, he knew it was way more than that.
Her voice drifted back to him as she tossed some joke over her shoulder about him surviving this one without filing a formal complaint.
“You’re hesitating again,” she called and glanced back with a grin that was entirely too appealing.
“I’m evaluating risk,” he corrected.
“On a water slide.” Sarcasm practically dripped from her lips.
“People underestimate water slides,” he said and stepped up beside her as they reached the top platform. The park stretched out below them in a blur of bright colors and movement. “That’s how they get you.”
She laughed and shook her head as she grabbed a double tube and shoved it lightly toward him. “If you die, I’m not explaining this to anyone.”
“If I die, it will absolutely haunt you forever,” he shot back and settled into the tube beside her. Their legs bumped awkwardly for a second before they adjusted.
“Oh, definitely,” she said. “I’ll think about you every time I see a warning sign.”
The attendant gave them a quick nod and then pushed them off.
The world tilted and rushed past as the slide curved sharply and water splashed up around them.
Randi’s startled laugh cut through the noise as Chance felt himself let go for a few seconds.
His grip tightened instinctively on the handles as they rushed along and their shoulders knocked together through a turn.
“Still alive?” she called over the roar.
“Barely,” he managed, though he grinned despite himself. A chuckle slipped out of him before he could stop it.
They shot out into the pool at the bottom with a splash that soaked them both.
The tube wobbled before it steadied itself as they caught their breath.
For a moment, he let himself stay there, close enough to see the way water clung to her lashes, the way her smile softened when she looked at him like that, open and unguarded and entirely unaware of the line he was already standing too close to crossing.
“See?” she said as she brushed wet hair back from her face. “Not so terrifying.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” he replied, though his voice had no sense of reproach at all.
She studied him for a second, like she might say something else, but instead she just tipped herself off the tube and headed for the pool’s exit. He quickly followed before the next patrons shot into the pool.
He tossed the tube onto a pile and followed after Randi. He tried to ignore the way her hips swayed as she walked, even though his dragon wasn’t about to let that go unnoticed.
“Come on,” she called back over her shoulder. “I think you’ve hit your bravery quota for the day.”
He almost asked her to stay and almost suggested grabbing food, or another ride, or anything that would stretch this out just a little longer.
But common sense landed heavily that he would go against everything he knew better than to ignore, and he forced himself to step back and put space where it belonged.
“Ice cream?” Randi pointed toward a cart.
“I’ve got to head out,” he answered. He aimed for casual and landed somewhere close enough. The thought of watching her tongue lick the ice cream was more than he could handle.
“Already?” she asked, and there it was again. That flicker of something he didn’t want to name.
“Yeah,” he said. “Rain check?” The words slipped out before he even thought them. He kicked himself at the question when his intentions were to stay away from her.
She hesitated just long enough to make him wonder if he’d already miscalculated, and then she smiled, easy again but not quite the same as before.
“Yeah,” she said. “Rain check.”
He watched her walk away longer than was necessary, and when he finally turned in the opposite direction, it felt less like leaving and more like pulling himself away from something that had already started to take root.
Mate, his dragon reminded him.
Not gonna happen, buddy. Chance knew he fought an uphill battle, but he had to at least try.
And even then, even as he made that deliberate choice to create distance, he knew it wasn’t enough.
Distance didn’t solve the problem, it only delayed it.
The truth sat there, no matter how undesirable it was.
He couldn’t fire her, well, wouldn’t fire her, not for something as selfish and avoidable as his own attraction.
That left the responsibility squarely onto him to end whatever this was before it became something neither of them could easily step away from.
Which meant he had to push her away.
And there also lay the possibility that he wouldn’t even have to try that hard, because when she eventually found out the truth that he wasn’t just another employee drifting through the same corporate current, she may run far, far away.
As the CEO of the entire operation whose name sat at the top of the hierarchy she worked within, that revelation alone might be enough to build the distance he was already failing to maintain.
Once he was showered and dressed more appropriately, Chance headed to talk to the one man he could tell anything to.
Professor Edward “Eddie” Leonard taught at the local university, and Chance had met him totally by accident soon after he relocated to Tampa.
A leading authority on the Iskara Northlands and all the lore and mystique that went with it.
A simple conversation had turned into a long, trustworthy friendship.
Chance suspected that while Eddie didn’t know the whole story, his suspicions were high but never pushed.
The tavern was dim and familiar in a way the rest of his life rarely managed to be. The low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses settled around him as he slid onto a stool and spotted Eddie already halfway through a beer at the far end of the bar.
“Well,” Eddie said as Chance approached, his voice rough with age and amusement, “you look like a man who made a bad decision or is about to.”
“Good to see you too,” Chance muttered and flagged down the bartender for a drink before taking the seat beside him.
Eddie gave him a long, assessing look, the kind that had unnerved him when they’d first met and now felt more like being seen than judged. “So which is it?”
Chance exhaled and dragged a hand through his still-damp hair. “Neither. I just… met someone.”
Eddie snorted. “That’s worse.”
“It’s not like that,” Chance said quickly, though the words felt thin even as he said them. “She works for the company.”
“Ah,” Eddie said and leaned back slightly. “There it is.”
“It’s not there it is,” Chance insisted and took a long sip of his beer like that might anchor him. “It’s a problem. She’s in marketing.”
Eddie raised a brow. “And?”
“And I can’t get involved with an employee,” Chance said, sharper now, because saying it out loud made it real in a way he couldn’t sidestep. “That’s not complicated.”
Eddie took his time finishing his drink and sat the glass down with a soft thud before glancing over at him again. There was something distinctly entertained in his expression.
“You could just fire her.”
Chance choked on his beer. He coughed as he shot Eddie a look. “I’m not firing someone because I’m attracted to them.”
“Seems efficient,” Eddie said mildly.
“It’s insane,” Chance shot back. “And unethical. And no. That’s not even an option.”
Eddie studied him for a second longer this time, the humor fading just enough to let something more perceptive take its place. “So what are you going to do?”
Chance leaned back and stared at the worn wood of the bar, his reflection faint in the glass behind it. “I don’t know,” he admitted, though the words felt like a lie even as he said them, because he did know, he just didn’t like it. “Keep my distance. Let it… fizzle out.”
“And you think it will?” Eddie asked.
“It has to,” Chance said, quieter now. “Because if it doesn’t, it gets complicated in ways I can’t fix.”
Eddie huffed. “Everything worth anything is complicated.”
“Not like this,” Chance said, shaking his head. “She doesn’t even know who I am, not really.”
Eddie knew Chance’s real identity and most of the royal drama, minus the dragon part.
“And whose fault is that?” Eddie asked.
Chance didn’t answer, because they both knew.
“And when she does find out?” Eddie pressed. “About the royal details and the CEO part?”
Chance let out a slow breath. His grip tightened slightly around his glass. “Then that’ll probably take care of it.”
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Chance said, his voice flattening just enough to hide the edge beneath it, “people act differently when they realize there’s a power dynamic they didn’t account for. It changes things.”
“And you’re counting on that?” Eddie asked.
“I’m… aware of it,” Chance said carefully. “It’ll create distance whether I want it to or not.”
Eddie leaned back again and studied him like he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Sounds like you’re hoping she walks away so you don’t have to.”
Chance’s jaw tightened. “I’m doing what’s right.” He slammed a palm on the bar. “Regardless of the fact that I’m her boss, you know better than anyone why I can’t risk bringing her into the world I came from.”
“What’s right and what will be aren’t always the same,” Eddie advised quietly. They were words that Chance couldn’t argue with.
By the time he got back to his apartment, the quiet felt louder than usual and he barely had time to drop his keys on the counter before he noticed the letter waiting on the table, likely brought in by his cleaning crew. He knew by the seal on the envelope what it was before he even picked it up.
King Jakob of Onyxheim
Chance just stared at it for a long moment before he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. For two kings to write to him, he knew something was horribly wrong. His eyes scanned the formal script that managed to sound both urgent and controlled.
Another warning. Another carefully worded concern about his father’s instability.
Another reminder that his absence was no longer sustainable, that Onyxheim needed him, that the situation was deteriorating and Chance must return as soon as possible.
His grip on the paper tightened with every line and the words blurred not because he didn’t understand them, but because he understood them too well.
“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, a humorless laugh slipping out as he crumpled the letter in his hand. “That’s not happening.”
He tossed it onto the counter, then immediately snatched it back up and crushed it further as frustration exploded and the walls of the condo closed in around him.
“I’m not coming back,” he snapped into the empty room, his voice louder now and echoing slightly in the silence. “Do you hear me? I’m not!”
He rubbed his face as the weight of it all pressed in, the expectations, the history, the parts of himself he’d tried to leave behind.
“Damn it,” he muttered again, more quietly this time, the fight draining just enough to leave something heavier in its wake.
He stared at the crumpled letter in his hand and realized that he had a huge problem headed his way and he had no idea how to avoid it.