Chapter 203 – Mother

Ella

After shopping with Cora and napping with the pups in the nursery, I went to Henry’s rooms. The guards said he’d just returned from the refugee camp, but he greeted me with a smile. I hugged and kissed him, and he invited me in. "You wouldn't happen to be in the mood for an afternoon snack, would you?" he asked knowingly. "Because I'm starving."

I suspected this was a ploy to ensure I ate properly, but my stomach growled as I sat on the couch. Still, I tried to sound demure. "I could eat," I shrugged.

Henry laughed and called the kitchens, ordering a small feast. While we ate, he told me about his day at the refugee camp, and I shared my frustration with my sudden celebrity and Cora's news about Roger. He shook his head. "That boy has made some bad choices, but I've been very proud of him these last few months. I never thought I'd see the day my sons would repair their relationship. You know that's down to you, don't you?" he asked warmly, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, don't say that. I'm so tired of getting credit for things that just happened to occur in my vicinity," I complained, slumping back and rubbing my full belly. "Not that I don't appreciate the compliments… I just… perfection is an impossible standard… and I'm so far from perfect it's laughable. I don't want to end up with a reputation I can't live up to—I'm only human after all." A moment later, I corrected myself. "I mean, not literally human, but I'm just a person like everyone else."

"No one said you were perfect, Ella," Henry pointed out. "I said you brought Dominic and Roger back together—which is true. If you read more into that, you're projecting at best, and giving yourself too much credit at worst."

I laughed. "Fair enough. I suppose no one has said I'm perfect… I just… I see the hope and expectation in their eyes. The refugees, the servants, random people on the street… even my guards. Everyone looks at me as if I'm the solution to this war, the ruined secrecy pact… but I'm the same person I was yesterday. I don't have the answers." Sensing my distress, Henry remained silent as a tear slipped down my cheek. "I'm terrified I'm going to fail them all, Henry."

He moved around the coffee table, littered with the remains of our feast, and took my hand. "Dearheart, that's part of being a pack leader. Every Alpha and Luna has felt that fear. It feels overwhelming, but it's also your strength. Duty to your people, the desire to do right by them, will keep you centered; it will guide you. Now, I know your problems are bigger than most Luna's face, but you aren't alone in feeling this way. That's why the responsibility is so grave."

His words resonated, especially considering Sinclair. I knew my mate struggled with the weight of caring for his people, but it still felt different for me.

"But most Alphas and Lunas have some idea what they're doing," I argued weakly. "They know this world; they've learned and prepared their whole lives. They know the history, the society, and its challenges. I'm not even a decent ambassador to human society because my experiences were incredibly niche."

Henry smiled tenderly. "I'll give you some advice for both parenting and being a pack leader. There will be countless days when you feel uncertain, overwhelmed, and exhausted, and all you can do is pray you're not irreparably harming your child or your people."

"Is this supposed to be comforting?" I squeaked, cradling my belly protectively. I wished I could keep my son safe in my womb until the war ended.

Henry chuckled. "The advice is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. If you step back and think about everything at once, the weight will crush you. Just take it one day at a time, and you'll realize you had what it takes all along. It won't be easy—but nothing is more rewarding."

"Thank you," I said tearfully, hugging him. "That wasn't even what I came to talk about, but I needed to get it out."

"Exactly," he purred, patting my back. "Poor little mother, I'm sorry you're dealing with all this alone."

"But I'm not alone," I corrected, smiling through my tears. "I have a family for the first time—and I don't mean the one who gave me up." I wiped my eyes. "I'm so grateful. It's been a hell of a learning curve to talk about my feelings, but Dominic was right—it helps." I glanced at my father-in-law. "Don't tell him I said he was right."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Henry promised, wiping his lips. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh," I said, my face falling. I was tempted to postpone the conversation. We'd ended on a lovely note, and I didn't want to ruin it. But Henry's expectant look told me he wouldn't let me get away with it. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Dominic told me who my parents are."

Henry nodded. "It must have been quite a shock… Are you disappointed you won't meet your father?"

I shook my head fiercely, squeezing his hand. "I already have the only father I need," I declared, tears welling in both our eyes. "But I'm horrified to think that Xavier might have ripped your family apart. That he stole your mate—Dominic and Roger's mother. I don't want to belong to his bloodline."

Henry brushed my hair back. "None of us can change where we come from, Ella," he said softly. "But your upbringing taught you a lesson most don't learn until later: the family you choose can be a thousand times better than the one you were born into. Blood may be thicker than water—but so are a lot of things… mayonnaise, frosting, gravy…"

I giggled, and Henry smiled. "Your father doesn't define you—you have more power to decide that than most," he continued, tilting my chin up. "I knew your parents, and I don't see any of Xavier in you—I never have."

"And my mother?" I asked shakily.

"Your mother was one of the kindest women I've ever met," Henry said. "She was unlucky in her mate, but like you, she loved her pack and dreamed of children. It can't have been easy for her to give you up."

"Do you think he knew—Xavier? The Goddess said he wanted an heir… would he have cared about a girl? Would she have told him the child died and kept the secret?"

"Xavier was much like Aimon," Henry revealed, referring to Damon's father. "He was a ruthless king, but he wasn't without a conscience. He wasn't mad. If he knew the Goddess ordained your hiding, he wouldn't have disobeyed her. It would have given him pride."

I nodded, processing the new information. "Dominic also said… my mother is alive."

"She devoted herself to the Goddess after Xavier died," Henry confirmed. "That makes sense now. I'm not sure where she went, but the Goddess's temples are in remote, sacred places."

"Do I look like her?" I asked, feeling vulnerable.

Henry pursed his lips. "I have a feeling you take after the parent you've already met."

It took me a moment to realize he meant the Goddess. I wanted to disagree—my hair wasn't starlight, my eyes weren't cosmos. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw similarities—my pale skin, golden hair and eyes, my slender build…

Still, the Goddess didn't want me. She might have needed me, like Xavier needed a son. But my mother, the one who carried and birthed me… she's the one who wanted me.

"I want to find her," I told Henry. "Can we find the temple where my mother became a devotee?"

He looked at me with understanding. "We can try. And we'll keep trying until we succeed."