Ella Sinclair’s face immediately closed off. “Baby, we talked about this,” he rumbled, sounding unhappy but not angry.

“We started to,” I agreed, remembering that last painful conversation. “And then the bomb went off, and everything went crazy.”

“Ella, I know how badly you want to meet her. And I would love nothing more than for us to be free to go searching right this minute—but it’s not the time. There’s too much going on,” Sinclair proclaimed, repeating much of what he’d said when we first discussed this.

“But this isn’t just about finding her because I want to meet her,” I corrected. “You told me yourself that after Xavier died, Queen Reina left Moon Valley and became a devotee of the Goddess. That can’t be a coincidence,” I insisted, silently begging him not to dismiss this possibility without hearing me out. “My mother met the Goddess; she spoke to her. Whatever they discussed had to have been far more substantive than the fairytale version the Goddess told me as a child. Even if that’s all she knows, she still has answers we don’t.”

Sinclair didn’t reply, but I could see the gears working in his head, his thoughts racing. Taking advantage of his contemplative mood, I forged ahead. “But what if that’s not all? What if she’s been serving the Goddess these last five years, learning the secrets of my blood so she’ll be ready when I come? What if she knows how to get in direct contact with the Goddess and can help me do the same? It’s obvious that the Goddess’s priests and devotees have powers and knowledge we don’t—far more than any elder council. If anyone can help us, surely it’s her.”

Suddenly, I felt a violent burst of defiance from Sinclair’s wolf, the beast lashing out against the man. It exploded through our bond in a vicious haze of passion and protectiveness, rage and refusal, determination and fear. Sinclair clamped his eyes shut, struggling to control the animal, and his fingers dug into my hips with unexpected force. Understanding dawned as he slowly dropped his head back against the sofa, emitting a very soft, drawn-out, “fuuuckk.”

My heart leaped. “I’m right, aren’t I?” I exclaimed excitedly, bouncing a little in his lap. “I’m right?”

Sinclair snarled, and perhaps for the first time in our relationship, he pushed me away. One moment I was straddling his thighs, my swollen belly pressed against his abs; the next, I was alone on the couch while my mate paced, overflowing with feral energy. I watched him warily, feeling torn. I was desperate to find my mother, but the last thing I wanted was to be away from my mate, especially as the war escalated and my due date neared. I was sure he felt the same.

“Dominic?” I asked softly, unsure what to do.

“Yes, you’re right!” he snapped, though I hadn’t planned to repeat my question. “I swear, I could strangle the Goddess for doing this to us. If she wanted to create a mortal child, she should have stayed with you and raised you, been a real fucking parent. She never should have torn you from Reina and Xavier, sacrificed you to be abused by the humans!” His thundering growls escalated into a roar, his power spilling out—ferocious and indomitable. “What kind of god abandons their most precious miracle? What kind of mother leaves her children helpless?”

I wanted to go to him, but I could tell he needed space—especially if I wanted him to agree to this. Even so, I felt compelled to defend my celestial mother. “In my memory, she said I had to go through all that so I could know what it was to be human,” I reminded him.

Sinclair whirled around. “That’s bullshit. You could have been raised by Damon himself and still turned out the sweetest creature to ever walk the earth!”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I countered gently. “That’s not how people work.”

“I don’t care!” he grumbled viciously. “I will never, never forgive her for what she put you through!”

I stood and closed the distance, placing my hands on either side of his jaw, forcing him to look at me—though he clearly didn’t want to. He grimaced, looking away, but eventually conceded, his green eyes shining. I tilted my head, letting him feel my love through our bond. “You do know that if she hadn’t done all that, you and I would never have met.”

Sinclair softened slightly, his gaze searching my face. His arms wrapped around me, and he lowered his forehead to mine. Turmoil still swirled through his consciousness, and the stubborn man didn't want to give in. “If the cost of giving you the life you deserve was living without you, I would have gladly done it.”

“Then I’m glad it wasn’t up to you, because I wouldn’t,” I said fervently. “I wouldn’t trade you and Rafe for anything in the whole world, and it frankly infuriates me that you would even suggest such a thing,” I continued, scowling. “I am the woman I am today because of everything I survived and overcame. I’m not saying I liked it, or that I wouldn’t spare myself the pain if I could. But if it hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t have the love and joy of our family, and more importantly, our people would pay the price.”

“I don’t care,” he said again, with an expression suspiciously close to a pout. “You’re more important.” I realized I was talking to his wolf, not the logical man who prioritized duty. “You don’t really believe that,” I responded with a sad smile. “This was all set in motion so that the God of Darkness’s schemes wouldn’t result in the destruction of shifters and humans alike. You, more than anyone, believe the future of our world is worth any price.”

“Not you,” he insisted, clutching me, his voice hoarse. “Never you.”

“Exactly, and if it wasn’t for this war, I never would have been born,” I stated simply. The gravity of this fact staggered me. I hadn’t considered this before, and though my brain wanted to freak out, I knew I had to stay strong for my mate. “Don’t you prefer having me in the world, a bit scarred, than not having me at all?”

“That isn’t fair,” he snapped petulantly, glaring even as his hands tightened.

“Maybe not, but it’s true,” I answered wryly, stroking his cheeks. “It will be okay, Dominic,” I crooned, hugging him.

“I can’t let you go, Ella,” he mumbled against my neck. I felt his angry tears, and I knew the decision was made, despite his denial. “I won’t. It’s not safe; I’ll go mad if I let you out of my sight.”

“We got through one separation,” I murmured, kissing his hair. “We can get through another.”

He shook his head. “It’s not the same. I knew I’d be back before things got too serious, before the baby got too big.” Sinclair’s hands slid to my middle. “There’s no telling how long it might take you to find Reina—how far you might have to go, or how much time you’d have to spend with her to learn whatever she has to teach you.” His wolf’s despair brought tears to my eyes, but before I could reply, he continued. “And it was different when I knew you were safe here. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d go mad; my wolf will lose his mind if we don’t know where you are or whether you’re safe.”

“We’ll get through it, because we have to,” I promised, feeling my own sobs begin. “The last thing I want to do is be away from you, Dominic. But we don’t have a choice. I have to do this if we’re going to win this war.”

I felt another violent wave of anger and resistance from his wolf, before something shifted inside him. “Not before the summit concludes. Not before I’ve had at least another week with you two,” Sinclair stipulated, his authority clear.

“After the summit,” I agreed, feeling both our hearts break. “Not a moment before.”