Once Sinclair returned and I was released from bed rest, I finally had the opportunity to visit Hugo's widow, Aileen. I thought I would, but I was turned away at her door, told in no uncertain terms that she wasn't accepting visitors. I've returned every day since, but this morning was the first time she allowed me inside.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked gently, knowing better than to offer empty apologies or condolences. "Anything at all?"

"You already are," she answered wryly, looking up from her bed. "You know you, Dominic, and Henry are the only ones who have come to see me? Not just to tell me how amazing Hugo was or to say how much they pity me, but to find out how I'm doing because you truly care. And of the three of you, you're the only one who hasn't gotten the message to leave me alone."

I shrugged, feeling not the least bit sorry. "Sometimes we want to be left alone precisely when we shouldn't be." I frowned, thinking about the other wolves in the palace—our fellow countrymen. "And don't take the others' absence personally. Everyone is caught up in their own worries with the war, and no one likes to be reminded of how quickly it can all be taken away… your grief makes it impossible to avoid."

Aileen snorted. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"Would you rather I did? That I diminish the gravity of your loss for the sake of politeness?" I asked, hoping I wasn't miscalculating. I prayed that a bit of reverse psychology would help Aileen regain herself for the sake of her pup, who had been spending a great deal of time in the nursery since his mother disappeared into her grief.

"I still have my boy," Aileen answered firmly, reminding herself of the very fact I had come to emphasize. "And how is Davey doing?" I inquired pointedly, though I already knew the answer. Sinclair and Henry had been spending any time they could with the poor pup—not that this amounted to much. The horrible reality was that none of us had the bandwidth to give the bereaved the attention they deserved, but the same was true of all the refugees. Doing our jobs as leaders meant neglecting them in the present so that we could ensure they had a future.

Aileen's gaze dropped to her lap, an expression of profound shame overtaking her features. "He's devastated, of course—he thought his father hung the moon. He's the only thing keeping me going… if he weren't here, I think…"

"Is he here?" I asked gently, looking around the empty room.

"I sent him away," she confessed, tears welling in her eyes. "I kept our bond open, but only just. I didn't want him to see me like this."

"Maybe he needs to see you like this," I suggested, reaching for her hands and clasping them tightly. "Maybe he needs to see that you're hurting just as badly as he is. Hugo isn't the only one who hung the moon for him, Aileen. But right now, he's going it alone."

"But the other pups…" Aileen argued, "and the Alpha. Surely they'll…"

"They aren't his mother. It's not the same," I insisted, rising to my feet. "Come with me to visit the nursery, come see Davey. Or let me bring him to you."

She hesitated, glancing towards a mirror on the far wall. She certainly looked worse for wear, with dark circles under her eyes and dirty, lank hair. "I promise you, he doesn't care how you look—only that you're there," I stated before she could object.

Aileen nodded hesitantly, and together we walked down to the nursery. Isabel and Henry were waiting for us—another scheme I concocted hoping Aileen might take comfort from people who had been through this and knew how she felt. Of course, we hadn't even set foot in the room when a small voice cried, "Mommy!!!"

Davey's dark head raced towards us, crashing into his mother's arms with tears streaming down his cheeks. "Mommy, where have you been?!" he cried, his words muffled against her breast.

Aileen's arms wrapped around him reflexively, but it took a moment for her to break. When it did, she shattered before our very eyes, crashing to her knees and dragging the pup into her lap. "I'm sorry," she moaned, rocking him back and forth. "I'm so sorry, angel, I've just been so sad."

"But I've b-been sad too!" Davey complained, sniffling. "I k-kept trying to c-come see you but th-they told me I couldn't."

Aileen continued sobbing apologies to her son, and then Isabel and Henry came forward to lend their support.

Sinclair appeared beside me, a pained expression on his face as he took in the scene. "You finally got through to her?"

"Not me," I corrected, running my hands over my baby bump and thanking the stars for my unborn son. "This was all Davey."

We couldn't stay much longer, as our first video call with a human government was due to begin in five minutes. Still, I wished we could stay longer—I wished we could do more for all our people. As my mate led me away, I leaned into his warmth. "Please tell me you have good news? It's beginning to feel like all we have around here is heartbreak."

"As a matter of fact, I do," Sinclair revealed, kissing my hair. "Roger caught the spy."

"Really?" I gasped, stopping in my tracks. "That's wonderful!"

Sinclair nodded, tucking me under his arm and encouraging me to keep walking. "The bastard is dead, but he told Damon the assassination was successful before he died."

"Surely that will be an advantage to us?" I inquired, my wolf howling with vengeful joy to know our enemy was gone.

"I hope so, but I have to admit I'm relieved that you'll be leaving Vanara soon," Sinclair declared, surprising me. "Damon knows you're here and believes I'm out of the way. I'm sure he views you and Rafe as the last threats standing between him and world domination."

Understanding clicked. "So we may be more at risk?" I mused aloud, probing our bond for signs of alarm. "And you're still going to let me go?"

"Don't make me think about it too hard, trouble," Sinclair teased, his voice barely more than a growl. "But yes, I believe we made the right decision—though I'm going to arrange more security for you on the journey."

I smothered a groan. I really didn't want to travel with an entire army, but I'd be damned if I was going to complain when I knew how hard it was for my mate to agree to this plan. No doubt sensing my reluctance, Sinclair chuckled, kissing me again. "Thank you for understanding, little wolf. I promise I'm not going to go overboard."

"Sure," I teased. "Just like when you promised not to get carried away last night?"

He offered me a wolfish grin, and I wondered if it was a mistake to remind him of our marathon lovemaking. After all, we still had a few minutes to spare, and his wolf was even more insatiable than usual amidst all this stress. "That was different, you know I can't resist the taste of your sweet—" Sinclair abruptly cut himself off as the King rounded the corner.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Like I can't guess where that sentence was going? I swear, you two are determined to scandalize my entire palace."

"He's just jealous," Sinclair whispered in my ear, making me giggle. "He wishes he had a mate to love him senseless every night."

The King crossed his arms. "Are you quite finished? There is a war on, you know?"

"We know. And we're sorry," I professed earnestly.

"I'm not," Sinclair muttered unhelpfully. I swatted his arm, and he pinched my bottom, making me squeak in surprise.

"We're ready," I assured Gabriel, though in truth I was feeling rather breathless.

No less exasperated than before, the King pushed open the doors to his largest conference room, revealing the assembled Vanaran delegations and a large television screen mounted on the far wall. We took our seats at the head of the table, and then Gabriel opened the call interface.

None of us really knew what to expect, and I could only hope that the wolves around me had enough sense and diplomatic skill not to insult the humans with whom we were about to speak. We'd done our best to ensure everyone was on the same page about how important a human alliance was—as it was the only thing that might keep the whole of the shifter world from descending on Vanara while the countries they left behind collapsed.

Of course, the very last thing I expected to see when the screen came to life was the woman I once considered to be the leader of my own city. Sinclair's hands tightened on mine when he saw the familiar face of the Moon Valley mayor fill the call window. As far as I knew, the last time they had seen each other was after the rogue attack in Old Town, and she certainly hadn't been friendly then. On the contrary, she was Damon's ally.