For a moment, I didn't know how to answer the strange woman. Am I ready to begin learning how to be a queen? Is anyone ever? It's the kind of job that takes a lifetime of preparation, and I still don't even recognize half the words these people are using.

"Am I supposed to know what a 'beta' is?" I whispered to Aileen, watching Sinclair stride out the door with an unreadable expression.

"A beta is like a second in command," she smiled warmly, coming forward and taking both my hands. Now that we were alone, she looked me over with an approving nod. "Well, you are a stunning little thing, I have to say. When Sinclair explained the situation, I wasn't sure what to think, but now that I see you, it makes a bit more sense. Any man would be lucky to have your genes passed down to their pups."

I bristled at this statement. I didn't mind the compliment, but after what happened with Mike, I'm not overly fond of people commenting on my looks. I've already had one man reduce my entire worth to physical beauty, so I'm definitely not crazy about an entire society of werewolves looking at me through the same lens. Luckily, if we pull this off, they'll all believe I'm a shifter, but I suspect there will still be some questions. I'll have to talk to Sinclair about giving me a good backstory.

"But being a beta is more than just a job, isn't it?" I said, pushing past the awkwardness of the abrupt subject change. "It's something you're born into?"

Aileen seemed to notice my discomfort and took her hands away. "Well, yes, all wolves are born as alphas, betas, or omegas."

"And what do those things actually mean?" I pressed, still not understanding.

"You can think of it like a class system, though it's more complicated than that. Every wolf is born into their role, and there's no way of changing it. Alphas are the strongest, both physically and in personality. That's why they lead our packs; they're the only ones dominant enough to rule so many powerful beings," Aileen explained.

"But not all alphas rule, do they?" I wondered aloud.

"No, only the strongest of the strong actually take control," she clarified patiently.

"So Sinclair?" Why did his name feel so electric on my tongue? Why did the mere thought of him send a shiver down my spine?

"Is the most powerful of the pack leaders. That's why he's campaigning to be king," Aileen revealed.

"But why is it a campaign? If it just comes down to brute strength," I inquired.

"Well, in the old days they would just fight, but we're more evolved now. Now we don't just want a ruler who can beat the competition into the ground; we want someone intelligent and compassionate," Aileen explained.

"I have a hard time thinking of Sinclair as compassionate," I admitted. He was certainly ruthless in our dealings. Then again, a little voice in the back of my head reminded me: He did hold you when you cried.

Aileen looked as though she were reading my mind. "Don't let Dominic fool you," she advised. "He's had a rough time with his mate. Trust me, once you get past all his walls and sharp edges, there's a very loving man underneath."

"I don't think I'll be the one to get past those things," I murmured doubtfully.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she mused. "You're giving him a pup—after all this time."

I didn't know what to make of this statement, and before I could consider it, Aileen forged ahead. "Now, betas are born mediators. They aren't as bossy as alphas, so they don't butt heads with the leader vying for control. They're more mellow and even-tempered; they balance the alpha out. That's what my husband, Hugo, does for Dominic."

"And omegas?" I asked.

"Omegas are at the bottom of the food chain, literally and figuratively. They're smaller and weaker, and they have naturally submissive natures. They're followers, not leaders."

"So, compared to a human," I probed, "where would an omega stand?"

Aileen's lip twitched. "All wolves are stronger, faster, and have sharper senses than humans, no matter their rank. We're different species; even the weakest wolf will be stronger than you." She paused thoughtfully. "I wonder how Dominic will cope with that."

"What do you mean?" I questioned anxiously.

"Alphas are very protective, very possessive. He's not going to like the idea that you'll be so vulnerable among our kind," she surmised, still seemingly lost in thought.

I couldn't focus on this at the moment, however—it wasn't exactly news that Sinclair was bossy, and I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that magical creatures are real. "But how do shifters even exist?" I burst out. "I mean, do we have some common ancestor?"

"No, the goddess created us separately from humans," Aileen corrected gently.

Well, this was new information. "The goddess?"

"The moon goddess; she rules over all creatures," Aileen informed me, as if this should be common sense.

"Why haven't I ever heard of her?" I asked, holding my hands to my head in confusion.

"Humans are more distant from the divine. You don't know about her because you can't feel her magic and influence. We can," Aileen stated matter-of-factly.

"Gosh, that's a lot to take in," I muttered, trying to imagine what it would be like to feel celestial power, to commune with the gods of creation. I never believed such a thing was possible. I never even believed in a god—how could I? My life hasn't known many blessings. It's hard to believe in a higher power when all you know is suffering. While I was lost in my thoughts, a young boy came running through the door, and Aileen caught him in a hug even as she scolded him.

"Naughty boy!" A huge smile was on her face, and the child resembled her so clearly I knew he must be her son. "You should know better than to enter a closed door without knocking!"

Pure maternal joy radiated from her face, and I wondered if it was their first meeting of the day, but when she spoke, it became clear this wasn't the case. "Where's your father? I left you with him only ten minutes ago!"

"I know, but I missed you," the boy grinned up at his mother, and my heart melted. What must it be like to love someone so completely, to have such a powerful bond with another being? I wanted it so badly it hurt.

It was still so surreal to think I'm really pregnant after all this time that it took me a moment to remember I don't have to long hopelessly anymore. I'm going to have that kind of love soon. I pressed my hand to my belly with excitement. I can't wait until my next checkup, until I can hear that tiny heartbeat again and see the baby on a sonogram. Sinclair is taking me this afternoon—to a shifter doctor this time—and I'm counting down the minutes more than ever.

Thump thump thump.

Has there ever been a more beautiful sound than my baby's heartbeat? If there has, I've certainly never heard it. This appointment was so different from my last one. Instead of Sinclair towering over me, lobbing threats and accusations, he was by my side, staring at the ultrasound screen with the widest smile I've ever seen on his face—completely transfixed.

I knew exactly how he felt. These last few days, I've felt like a higher power myself. I'm creating life inside me, and it's nothing short of a miracle. In the moments I could forget my troubles, I was giddy with happiness. I didn't realize how low my hope had fallen until I felt such disbelief at finally becoming pregnant.

"I never thought this day would come." I didn't mean to say the words, but they fell from my tongue as fresh tears burned in my eyes—tears of joy this time.

Sinclair's face turned away from the screen for the first time, his brilliant green eyes landing on my face as a tender smile took over his features. His massive hand slid around my crown, gently cradling my head as he lowered his brow to mine until they were resting against each other.

"It's real," he whispered, and I nodded happily, taking comfort in his protective hands.

"Hmm," the doctor muttered, breaking our revelry.

"What, is something wrong?" I asked anxiously. Sinclair's thumb immediately began brushing back and forth across my hair, instinctively soothing my fraying nerves.

"The baby's just a bit small for my liking," he told us, making my heart race with worry.

Both men heard it immediately on the machines surrounding us, and Sinclair shushed me softly. "That's not necessarily bad, is it?"

"Well, babies develop at different rates, but for a man of your size and strength, I would have expected a larger fetus," the doctor explained.

My hands were shaking, but Sinclair didn't seem bothered. He snorted. "They told my mother the same exact thing when she was carrying me, and I turned out fine. She was little, like you." He added warmly, "Your body is doing its best; it needs to fatten up a bit before it can support a bigger baby."

I had to fight the urge to laugh and instead batted my lashes at him. "Then you should let me have all the ice cream I want."

Sinclair tossed his head back and laughed. "You are incorrigible," he remarked wryly. "What am I going to do with you at the campaign dinner tomorrow?"

"Campaign dinner?" I repeated, confused.

"Yes, didn't I tell you?" He looked genuinely surprised, or I might have been more upset. "Tomorrow it's out of the frying pan and into the fire for our plan. I need you by my side."