Roger warily watched the delegations approach the refugee camp, disembarking from a convoy of identical, shiny black cars parked at the airfield entrance. Some delegates appeared more curious than others, their expressions open and interested, though somber. A few Alphas, most notably the Storm Forest and Midnight leaders, seemed determined to remain unmoved by the harrowing scenes before them.

However, the Beta, Roger, could only partially focus on their mindsets. He was preoccupied with ensuring the airfield and camp's security before the visit. His wolf's attention was further divided by Cora's proximity. He hadn't seen her yet that day, but her faint floral scent drifted through the cool morning air from the medical tents.

"Maybe we should go ahead of the group," Roger's wolf suggested, "to ensure everything's ready and conduct a final threat assessment."

"And flirt with a certain stubborn human, since we probably won't get another chance today?" Roger replied, tempted but aware that abandoning his duty would be irresponsible.

"It's a thought," the mischievous canine countered. "We haven't spoken since yesterday morning. It would be a wasted opportunity; she's clearly warming to us. The beast is whining like a pup, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. There's nothing more determined or impossible than a besotted wolf. Come on," he urged eagerly, "wagging his tail. Think how cute she'll be, trying to act grumpy even though we can hear her heart racing."

"We can't—we can't afford to be distracted. I want to see her as badly as you do, but this isn't the time."

"Hmph," his wolf grumbled, "spoilsport."

Roger glanced at the slowly moving party behind him. King Sinclair and Ella were leading the Alphas and their advisors into the camp. His brother kept his mate safely under his arm as they approached the airfield. The planes were due to arrive any moment, and Roger knew everyone was tense for this first transport without James's leadership.

Sinclair scanned the area, his sharp gaze settling on his brother. Their new bond as Alpha and Beta allowed for effortless communication at this distance. "All clear?"

"So far," Roger replied. "The entire camp has been swept, and the pilots have signaled imminent landing with no signs of trouble. I can either stay here to assist with disembarkment, or go ahead with a few soldiers as an advance team." He secretly hoped his brother would choose the latter.

"So much for not getting distracted," his wolf scoffed.

"It's a valid tactical strategy," Roger insisted, unsure if he was convincing himself or his wolf. "I'm not suggesting it for Cora. I'll only approach her if I have a good reason… otherwise, I'll just look."

"Look and touch?" his inner animal pleaded.

"No! No touching, no scent marking, and certainly no kissing… or biting… or licking… argh! This is useless!"

Sinclair's deep, amused voice cut through Roger's turmoil. "What on earth is happening? You look like you're short-circuiting. Have you had a stroke?" He didn't need to elaborate. Roger felt his left eye twitching; his hands were clenched fists, and his jaw was so tight his fangs threatened to grind to dust.

"Nothing important," Roger gritted out. "What do you want me to do?"

Sinclair smirked, watching the approaching aircraft. "I meant to tell you, Cora was visibly anxious yesterday when you were late for the welcome event. She kept asking if everyone was there and didn't calm down until I explained you were safe."

"That's not the kind of information I need right now, Dominic," Roger growled.

Sinclair chuckled. "Alright, I'm sorry. Stay here for now. Once the planes land, get eyes on all incoming refugees. Our men are well-trained, but this is James's operation, and they've never flown solo before. If everything checks out, catch up with us."

Roger nodded, moving closer to the group. Sinclair interjected, his gaze sweeping over their visitors. "See if you can get close to some of the other Betas. Gather intelligence on their packs' needs and strategies, and their Alphas' mindsets."

"Oh, so I'm a spy now?" Roger asked, unfazed.

"I thought you might enjoy that role," Sinclair replied. "And don't worry, I'll talk you up to Cora if you're not with us when we reach her section. From what I've seen, you need all the help you can get."

Roger thought wryly about his brother's information. Cora's anxiety confirmed his suspicions, and he needed to plan his next move. She was stubborn and skittish for reasons he both understood and didn't fully grasp. She was also brilliant and beautiful—stop it, Roger hissed at himself. No distractions.

This proved difficult once the refugees disembarked and Roger joined the delegations for their tour of the camp. He observed the Vanaran Alphas, assessing their reactions to the suffering shifters. They all seemed engaged, but Roger couldn't help thinking about the welcome feast. They faced two main hurdles: securing the Vanarans' allegiance and dealing with the fallout from the broken secrecy pact. The refugees' plight might foster alliances, but it wouldn't reveal the bigger picture.

Soon, they were in the medical tents, and Cora stood before him—even more stunning than he remembered. Not everyone shared his admiration. "You have a human administering medical care? You've given her access to Vanaran technology?" The Silver Dawn Alpha was aghast to find Ella's sister working there.

"And why not?" Cora asked before Sinclair, Ella, or Gabriel could respond. "I worked in shifter medicine back home—at the highest level. My expertise equals any continental physician's, so why shouldn't I continue practicing here?"

The Storm Forest Alpha shook his head. He'd been displeased that Gabriel allowed a human across their borders, and this was clearly too much. "Alpha, what is the meaning of this?" he asked formally, his tone sharp. "If Sinclair's Luna wants to keep a human orphan as a pet, that's one thing, but this is proprietary technology; you can't just—"

That was a mistake. Ella and Roger lunged forward, steam billowing from their ears, as Cora froze in shock. Only the combined force of two terrifying snarls prevented a fight. Sinclair and Gabriel unleashed their power, making everyone wince.

"That was out of line," Gabriel growled fiercely. "Do not forget you are a guest here, Kieran. Remember our origins—we are not alike in all ways, but the Goddess created us equal."

"If that were true, she wouldn't have made humans so weak and backward," Alpha Kieran argued. Roger smelled salt and realized Cora was close to tears.

"I have news for you," Cora's soft voice cut through, and Roger was furious to see her trembling. He moved beside her, his wolf swelling with pride as her fear lessened at his proximity. "Humans might not be as strong, fast, or advanced as shifters, but that doesn't mean we have no knowledge to contribute. You may think we're brainless and backward, but I've made scientific discoveries unknown to shifters and published groundbreaking research in top peer-reviewed shifter journals. I have the intelligence and experience to help both our kinds advance, and your prejudice—your exclusion—only holds you back. However far ahead Vanara is now, it would be even further ahead if you considered perspectives other than your own."

"Well-said," the Black Alder Alpha, Callahan, praised. "Get your head out of your ass, Kieran."

Ella tried to reach her sister, but Sinclair feared she might attack the Storm Forest leader—probably rightly so, as her beautiful features were twisted with rage, and she thrashed against him. Sinclair growled and purred, calming Ella enough for her to take deep breaths.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves," she hissed finally. "And I don't only mean you, Alpha Kieran. I know he's only saying what some of you are too cowardly to speak aloud. We called this summit to generate collective action against a dire threat. As we agreed, this war is not only Damon's, it's not only shifters', and Vanara can no longer escape the fallout by turning a blind eye as it has for centuries. Change has come, and you cannot pretend otherwise. You call yourselves Alphas, but you sound like spoiled pups who don't want to share their toys. Mark my words: if you keep up these racist, isolationist attitudes, you will destroy the way of life you love and cost the world dearly."

As she spoke, Roger noticed Ella seemed to glow—not the pregnancy glow, but a literal, radiant light shimmering around her. Her words carried an unprecedented weight—stronger even than Sinclair and Gabriel's power.

The chastised Alphas hung their heads, some as confused as Roger. They exchanged glances, but Sinclair merely kissed his mate's cheek and guided the group forward.

Roger stayed with Cora. He didn't ask Dominic's permission; not even his Alpha's order could pull him away. "You were brilliant," he murmured gently. "Are you okay?"

"No," Cora whispered, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not."