Things didn't look better in the morning, at least not for the people back home in Moon Valley—shifters and humans alike. With each passing day, the crisis worsened, with refugees flooding out of the occupied territories and the death toll ever rising. It felt insane that I was one of the people in charge of solving this crisis, especially since I had been a nanny just a few months ago. I used to watch events like this unfold on the news and wonder what our world leaders would do to fix them… now I was one of those leaders.

I could only take it one step at a time, and though I sometimes felt like I was shirking my duties at the summit by focusing so much on the refugees, I felt they needed me most. It was difficult, draining work, but also more rewarding than I could have imagined, even when things were tough.

Speaking of tough, one refugee in particular was proving difficult—not that this was surprising. "Isabel," I called, striding into the nursery. The she-wolf looked up from the diaper she was changing, her expression immediately guarded.

Before I could reach her, a small herd of pups raced forward, clambering around my legs. "Ella! Ella!"

Fewer familiar faces were present than before, since we had successfully placed several orphans in foster homes. Still, I continued coming every day to nap with the remaining children, and I loved the time I spent with them.

"Luna," Isabel greeted me stiffly, carrying over the child she had been tending. I was surprised to see it wasn't Sadie, but when I searched the room, I spied James cradling the young girl by the fire, grinning down at her with obvious adoration. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows; as far as I knew, Isabel didn't trust anyone with her precious charge, so it spoke volumes that she had relinquished her to the soldier.

"The King tells me you rejected another foster home for Sadie," I explained, lifting one of the munchkins tugging at my skirt. "That's seven families you've passed up, you realize."

Isabel shrugged, showing no repentance. "I didn't like the look of them."

"And what exactly did you find so objectionable?" I asked suspiciously—the woman had come up with countless inane excuses to reject potential foster families.

"The mother smelled of cleaning chemicals, and their pups looked as though they'd been kept in a bubble their whole lives," Isabel explained haughtily.

"That mother works as a housekeeper; she can't help smelling a bit like the tools of her trade," I reminded her, propping one hand on my hip and pinning her with a disapproving gaze. "Besides, two days ago you objected to a family because their pups had dirt on their shoes."

"It's about balance," Isabel insisted obstinately. "I don't want Sadie to go to an unsanitary home, but I also don't believe children should grow up in completely sterile conditions—how is she supposed to build an immune system?"

"I think you're determined to find problems with everyone we bring to you because you don't want to give Sadie up at all," I stated sternly. "And that's okay. If you want to foster or adopt her yourself, I would be thrilled to help you. But don't keep the baby in limbo. If you're not going to commit to her, then you need to give her to a family who will."

"I can't adopt her," Isabel muttered, the blood draining from her face. "But why can't I just keep her a while longer?"

"Isabel," I sighed gently, "Sadie lost her parents, and she's bonding with you more and more every day. She's getting used to her routine here and starting to feel comfortable in the nursery. Those are all good things if we can keep that going… but if we can't… the last thing she needs is to get attached to another parent figure only to have them taken away."

"That's not what I want," Isabel answered, her eyes shining as she looked toward the child.

James raised his head as if sensing her gaze, frowning at her sorrowful features.

"Do you want to tell me why you're so opposed to taking her in, when you obviously love her?" I prompted, sensing I already knew the answer.

"I don't love her!" Isabel snapped defensively. "It's not the same… I can't…" She bit her lip, then glared at me. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm trying to do what's best for everyone—you included," I said. "I want to see you happy, Isabel. I know that feels impossible right now—"

"Shut up!" she cried, interrupting and stamping her foot in fury.

A gasp went around the pups, and the little one perched on my hip whispered, "She said a bad word!"

"You don't know what you're talking about—you have no idea what I've been through!" Isabel continued, pointing an outraged finger at me. "Happiness is… that's done for me! I can't ever have it again, nor should I! So get your annoyingly perfect nose out of my business and leave me alone!" With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off into her room. The door slammed, and then the sound of her sobs floated out to us.

I wiped tears from my own eyes as the pup in my arms cuddled closer. "It's okay, don't cry."

"Why's Miss Isabel so sad?" another asked, looking up at me with wide eyes, expecting me to have all the answers.

Footsteps approached, and then James's voice murmured, "Because Miss Isabel lost a baby and she misses her." He explained softly, easing Sadie into my arms. "Let me talk to her, okay?"

I nodded. "I'll watch the pups."

I tried not to listen as he followed the distraught she-wolf, but with my supernatural hearing, there was no avoiding it. The door opened and shut, and I could imagine him standing over Isabel as she sprawled miserably on her bed.

"Go away," Isabel sobbed pitifully, her voice muffled, perhaps by pillows.

"No," James countered firmly. "We're going to talk about this, Isabel."

"I-don't w-want to," she objected, and I heard a soft thump as though she slammed her fist into the bedding.

"No, you just want to make yourself miserable," James answered, and the bed squeaked as he sat down. "You think if you let yourself be happy, then it means you didn't love your daughter. You think that adopting Sadie is the same as replacing her, forgetting her, as if loving another child would be disrespecting her memory."

"Because it would!" Isabel whined. "I don't want another pup; I want my Sophie!"

"I know you do," James acknowledged in a low purr. "But you want Sadie too. And more importantly, Sadie needs a mother. So if you can't do this for yourself, then do it for her."

Isabel just moaned wordlessly, and James seemed to lose his patience. "Come here, you stubborn thing."

There was a slight scuffle, with feminine snarls and the snapping of teeth, but soon enough Isabel's struggles ceased, her defiant limbs no doubt captured by the pilot's powerful arms. His steady voice continued, "If you want to honor Sophie, the best thing you can do is not let your love go to waste. Imagine if this was the other way around, and you had died with your mate, and Sophie was all alone in the world—"

"I wish I had," Isabel wept. "I wish it had been me instead of her. It should have been me."

"I know," James crooned, rocking her, kissing her hair. "But if Sophie were all alone in the world, you would want someone to love her as if she was their own."

"I didn't protect her," the she-wolf keened, and I found myself choking back my own sobs, snuggling close to the pups around me as I recalled the visceral pain of thinking I'd killed my baby. It gave me the barest bit of insight into how the other woman must be feeling, and the gravity of her grief tore me to pieces.

"But you can still protect Sadie," James proclaimed. "I promised her mother I would look after her, but I can't take her with me on evacuation runs, or wear a baby carrier into battle. So I left her with you because I knew there was no one better. I believed you would watch over her as well as her own parents. Are you going to prove me wrong, Isabel?"

She hiccuped. "You're not playing fair."

"And you need to understand that shutting off your heart is a greater disservice to your daughter's memory than anything else. As long as you hurt, as long as you miss her, your love lives on. But if you stop feeling, if you stop caring, then you let that love go to waste," James advised.

"If I adopt her, does that mean you'll finally stop visiting? Since your promise to her parents will have been fulfilled?" There was both hope and fear in Isabel's voice, as if she were trying to convince herself she didn't want him around, even though she was afraid he might actually say yes.

"Not on your life," James chuckled. "You can't get rid of me that easily, little wolf."

"Well, I'll adopt her anyway," Isabel agreed, sounding sullen. James purred, and Isabel grumbled in return, but the sound was soon replaced by a whimper, and I had a sneaking suspicion that he silenced her in the way of all bossy alphas—with his lips, and tongue, and wickedly talented hands.