Ella Sinclair called soon after the news about the Princess broke, explaining that he would probably be stuck at the office until late that evening. He was relieved to hear that Henry and Roger were at the house with me and made me promise to call him if I needed anything.

The three of us spent the afternoon discussing ideal qualities in a potential partner for Sinclair, which proved surprisingly difficult. Apparently, Sinclair had several serious girlfriends in high school before Lydia, then a few more who were more distractions than anything while he continued dating Roger. There hasn't been anyone since their divorce, which is why he was always photographed with different women—he never wanted to lead anyone on with second dates if he knew it wouldn't go anywhere.

This meant his only serious relationships were boyhood dalliances, his ex-wife, and me—a human he can never be with. Try making a dating profile out of that.

I wished there were some way I could just become a wolf. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection, was just an excuse to be on my feet. In horror movies, all werewolves have to do is bite a human, and then they're changed forever. I know it's not real, but part of me still wishes it could be.

"I'd love to transform," my inner voice agreed wistfully. "To be free to lope through the forest under the full moon."

"Can you imagine what it would feel like to be so powerful?" I replied, relieved we were on the same page for once. "I've never felt powerful in my life. It would be nice to know what that's like… at least once."

"We are powerful in at least one way," my conscience proclaimed, ever the optimist when I'm feeling down. "We made a baby. We're growing Sinclair's pup. If that's not power, what is?"

"You okay, Ella?" Roger's voice floated through the door, and I pushed away my thoughts.

Pulling my gaze from my reflection, I swung the door open, eyeing the waiting wolf indignantly. "Just because I'm on bed rest doesn't mean I can't stand up every now and then."

"And if I know my brother," Roger replied, flashing a grin, "his response would be that stalling and making up reasons to stay upright every time you have an excuse to be on your feet is cheating."

I narrowed my eyes at him. That's exactly what Sinclair would say, but while Sinclair's scolding could make me shake in my boots, Roger just irked me. "Well, Dominic isn't here," I reminded him, turning up my nose.

"Oh really?" A deep voice sounded from the doorway, and I jolted, turning to find Sinclair watching us with raised eyebrows.

"You're home!" I exclaimed, glancing at the clock. It was already 10 PM, but I barely noticed how quickly the night passed.

"I am," Sinclair confirmed, prowling forward with lethal grace. "And from the sounds of it, not a moment too soon."

I willingly melted into his arms when he reached for me, my feet lifting off the ground as I was enveloped in a warm hug. "I was only up for a minute," I told him, breathing in his scent.

Sinclair trailed kisses over my hair. "Now, why don't I believe you?" he inquired, his amused voice a low rumble in my ear.

"Because you're a suspicious ogre who assumes the worst of people?" I suggested, batting my lashes at him and adopting an innocent tone. "Even the mother of your child."

The big Alpha chuckled. "Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that you're a bundle of pure mischief."

Before I could respond, we were given a much-needed reminder that we weren't alone. "I think it's time for us to go, Roger," Henry observed, eyeing us with a guarded expression. "Dominic, walk us out?"

"Of course." He deposited me on the couch with a warning to stay put until he returned. I knew I should obey, but I was impossibly curious about what Henry might say to Sinclair after our visit. Was this about the Princess's death? Was he angry about the secret about my identity? Had he been merely kind when he said he didn't care if I was human?

As stealthily as possible, I rose from the couch and tiptoed to the door, pressing my ear against the wood and straining to hear their hushed conversation.

"What news about the Princess?" Roger asked, his voice slightly muffled by the distance and the shuffling of shoes and coats.

"Nothing yet, but I don't think this was an accident. The timing is too suspicious," Sinclair replied grimly.

"You don't think the Prince hurt her to help his campaign?" Henry inquired, sounding aghast.

"I wouldn't put anything past him. Goddess knows he's beaten her bloody more than a few times over the years… but I don't know. It feels awfully cunning for his miniscule brains," Sinclair assessed.

"I agree," Roger confirmed. "So far, I haven't seen him come up with anything more creative than hiring thugs to take out the competition."

"Well, we'll see what the autopsy says, and I'll try to get my own investigators to look into it as well," Sinclair shared. "How were things here?"

There was a tense silence, and then Henry's voice rose, sounding more authoritative than I'd ever heard it. "You have much bigger problems than the Prince," he bit out. "Do you have any idea what this game is doing to that poor girl?"

"Of course I do," Sinclair replied sharply, his own voice growing harsh. "And it upsets me more than you could imagine."

"What were you thinking, asking her to get involved in our politics?" Henry scolded, sounding furious. "And don't you tell me it was her idea. She thought she was going to lose her baby. Besides, you knew how dangerous this was going to be from the beginning—she didn't!"

"I also know that without her, I would lose the election," Sinclair growled back. "I don't need to remind you what the Prince will do to her if he wins—he's already tried to kill her a few times without an army behind him. Besides, you're the one who taught me my duty comes first. I couldn't put one person over the well-being of the entire realm, no matter how much I care about her."

"If you'd told me the truth, we could have found another way—a she-wolf who could fake a relationship and a pregnancy so Ella could stay hidden," Henry countered, and I was amazed to realize he was taking my side. He was defending me, even though I'm just some random human. As touched as I was, I also felt a nearly irresistible compulsion to defend Sinclair. I didn't like Henry blaming him for all our problems; he already blamed himself enough.

Without thinking, I pushed through the door and joined them. Henry and Roger blinked in surprise, but Sinclair narrowed his eyes at me. "You're getting stealthier by the day, little one."

I ignored him, defiantly crossing to stand between him and his father. "I appreciate you standing up for me, Henry, but this isn't all Dominic's fault. It was my idea, and I wouldn't take no for an answer. I put myself in this situation with full agency, and I don't regret it." I continued, looking up at the hulking Alpha behind me. "Yes, I'm stressed and overwhelmed and hormonal, but I've survived much worse than this. You have no idea what my life has been like, and this is the safest and most secure I've ever felt."

"Ella, you don't have to do this," Sinclair tried to say.

"I know that," I assured him. "And I'm not saying any of this for your sake—I'm saying it because it's true. I'm an adult; I made my own decision. I know it's hard to remember that when I'm crying like a baby, but you have to understand that even being free to cry is something I've never had before. I've always had to do everything myself; I never had the luxury of falling to pieces; I never had anyone to comfort me. It sounds backwards, but the fact that I'm a mess rather than just repressing everything is progress. It's a good thing, and that's all down to you, Dominic."

He seemed to recall my behavior after the attacks at the club and the Wild Hunt; he could sense the truth in my words. He softened slightly, and I heard Henry sigh behind us. "I'm happy to hear that, Ella," the elder man began carefully. "You're right, I didn't know. But I still don't like this."

"None of us like it, Dad," Roger said. "But we all have to make the best of what we have, and we can't go back now. There's no space for 'could've, should've, would'ves.' We just have to keep moving forward together."

Henry nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry I gave you a hard time, Dominic. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt Ella or the baby."

"Thanks, Dad." Dominic leaned down to hug him. "I'll call you tomorrow. For now, my little human and I need to have a talk about the meaning of bed rest."

"Good luck, Ella." Henry and Roger laughed, exiting the house, leaving me with one very large, very unamused wolf.

"Well, trouble?" Sinclair asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you have to say for yourself?"