I pace back and forth outside Gabriel's chambers, beside myself with worry over Philippe's fate. I have the worst feeling Sinclair will fire or demote the guard because of my actions, and I'm already preparing a furious speech for my mate if he does. I can't hear their conversation; the King's chambers are soundproofed—a luxury Sinclair and I should definitely invest in when we return home.

The waiting is horrible, but eventually, my faithful guard emerges, looking thoroughly dejected. I race toward him. "Did he demote you? Is he still on the call—I'll talk to him—"

"Woah," he catches me by the shoulders. "It's okay, Ella. He didn't demote me, he just yelled a lot."

"I'm so sorry," I say, wringing my hands.

"Don't be," Philippe says evenly, meeting my gaze. "You were right. Being someone's guard is a very intimate relationship. You have to trust me with your life, with all your secrets."

He sighs, shaking his head. "Most people choose their guards, but you didn't pick me; you didn't even know who I was when Dominic assigned me to you."

"So?" I protest, still indignant on his behalf.

"So it's right that I should prove myself to you," he chuckles. "Trust has to be earned."

Philippe pauses, assessing me. "But if it had gone on much longer, I don't think I could have kept it up. Part of protecting you means looking out for your health and well-being, even when you don't want me to. You weren't doing well, and I'm glad Dominic got through to you. I don't want to be in that position again."

"I respect that," I reply contritely. "And I'll try to do better." I wonder if my urge to explain myself is to help him understand or to make myself feel better. I suspect the latter, but I forge ahead as we walk down the opulent corridor.

These last few months have been a whirlwind. My entire life is different, and I'm still struggling to catch up.

"It's so strange that I matter to people now. Three and a half months ago, I was alone in the world. I had my sister and no one else. And now I'm a wolf, I'm going to be a mother, I have a mate and a pack, I'm in charge of a world I didn't know existed, I'm in the middle of a war, and I might even have parents out there somewhere." I know I'm rambling, and Goddess bless Philippe for listening without judgment. "I love it, but it's still hard. I'm still suffering major growing pains—maybe most of all when it comes to being part of a pack and not just a lone wolf anymore."

Philippe watches me closely. He leans back, pursing his lips. "Is that part of why you're so intent on continuing the hypnosis?"

"Which part?" I ask, unsure of what I just said.

"The fact that your parents might be out there," Philippe clarifies. "We all realized you'd been left with humans and that the Goddess was involved, but maybe we were so distracted by how amazing it all is that we didn't consider what it might mean for a woman who probably spent her childhood praying her parents would turn up and tell her it had all been a mistake."

My eyes widen, and I feel vulnerable. I wrap my arms around myself. "What orphan doesn't have those fantasies?" I shrug.

Cora and I used to say our parents were spies working on a top-secret government project and had to leave us in the orphanage for our safety. But they left us together so we wouldn't be alone. I smile at the bittersweet memory. "But we grew up and we realized we just weren't wanted. We weren't any more special than the other abandoned kids in that horrible place."

Philippe is still watching me, and I realize I haven't answered him. "I think it's part of it," I confess. "I've been saying I have to find out where I came from—which is true. But in my brain, finding out where I came from is the same as finding out who my parents were and why they left me." I chafe my arms, feeling cold.

"And maybe that's why I've kept Cora out of it, too because for the first time since I was eight, I feel like there's hope I might find the answers and that's not a chance she has."

He nods. "It's funny the things that can motivate us without us even realizing it," he observes. "That's why therapy is so useful."

"Oh, come on," I groan, thinking of my mate's edict. "Not you too!"

Philippe raises his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm just following my orders."

"Sure," I deride, throwing up my arms. "That's what they all say."

Two days later, I'm back in the sitting room with Leon, Henry, and my small audience of babysitters. They've agreed to leave Leon and me alone for the therapy session following today's ether trip—a fact the therapist was only too smug about—but for now, they've all piled into the room to show support.

The drug is already taking hold, but this time I don't need Leon's guidance to travel into the past. As soon as the walls come down in my mind, I'm taken farther into my memories than before.

I'm six years old, and for the first time, I have a visitor.

The headmaster didn't tell me who the strange lady is or why she's here so late at night, but she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I find it hard to take in all her features at once; I can only focus on one at a time, and when I do, I get lost in it.

She has long, gold hair, so metallic and luminous it looks like starlight. Her eyes are wide and dark, and I swear there are galaxies swirling in her irises. Her limbs are long and willowy, and with the shadows, I can't tell where they end.

Her skin is fairer than any I've ever seen, and it glows like mother-of-pearl. She wears a white dress that reminds me of clouds, and being near her gives me a surge of energy. I want to bounce off the walls, but I know grown-ups get mad when kids get hyper.

"Did you hear me, Ella?" she asks in a soft, musical voice.

"Oh," I peek up, feeling dizzy. "No, sorry. I'm distracted."

"That's okay," she assures me gently, and my muscles relax. "I came to tell you a story."

"Really?" I ask in awe. "The only stories I ever hear are from older kids, and they're usually not nice."

"Is it a nice story?"

"In some ways," she answers, tilting her head. "In others, it's sad, but it's a story you need to hear."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because one day you'll need to remember it so you can find your way back home," she informs me patiently.

"Okay," I say, unsure what's coming.

"Would you like to sit in my lap?" she offers. "I think you find it hard to look at me."

I nod shyly, wanting to be held. She lifts me into her arms. Her body is warm and cool at once, like moonlight.

This cleaned-up version addresses grammar, punctuation, and inconsistencies in capitalization and spelling. It also improves sentence structure for better flow and readability. The excessive use of exclamation points has been reduced for a more natural tone.