Ella

“Dominic, this isn’t fair! I want to come!” I glared at my mate as he pulled on his shoes, my arms stubbornly crossed. I fought to hide a yawn; I was barely awake. The sun wasn't even up, but Sinclair looked as alert and energetic as ever. His adrenaline was probably already surging; he was leading the summit delegations on an excursion to the embattled continent that morning.

My wolf was furious with Sinclair for ordering us to stay behind, even though I knew I couldn't fly, being in my fifth month of pregnancy. The summit was as much my baby as my mate's, and I didn't want to miss one of the most crucial events. Not to mention, I wanted to be there for our people, those still languishing in fear and uncertainty about escaping. I wanted to help them, speak with them, learn their needs—to comfort them if possible.

Unfortunately, Sinclair didn't look the least bit sympathetic. Last night, I'd shared news of my mother's location, and he hadn't taken it well. He'd shifted and gone for a run, working through his feelings before returning and claiming me with all his ferocity. Afterward, he'd agreed to let me go, but he clearly wasn't happy about it.

“Pout all you want, trouble. I’m not taking you into a war zone,” Sinclair declared sternly. “Surely you realize how strongly I feel about this if I’m willing to let you out of my sight?”

He had a point. Ever since we'd decided finding my mother was too urgent to delay, he'd been like my giant, furry shadow. His protective instincts were in overdrive, reminding me of the early days of my pregnancy, when he'd growled and snarled at anyone who so much as looked at me.

“But I should be there! People need to see that we’re in this together!” I insisted, stomping my foot before I could think better of it.

Sinclair arched a brow and unfurled his huge body from the edge of the bed, towering over me. He stared into my wide eyes for a long moment, probing our mating bond and easily reading my wolf's stress. I wished I could hide it, but I couldn't withdraw my gaze from his piercing scrutiny. The truth was, underneath my genuine interest in the trip, a churning sea of anxiety existed over the fact that he would be going into a war zone without me. My wolf hated this more than anything, no matter how inevitable.

Seeing this, Sinclair's foreboding expression softened to something unbearably tender. “This will be good practice, little mate,” he murmured, pulling me close. “Neither of us likes it, but we’re going to be separated one way or another. You have to find your mother, and I have to fight Damon.” He sighed, kissing my temple. “The timing is terrible, but we can’t control that. We just have to get through it.”

“How?” I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice.

“By taking it one day at a time,” Sinclair replied, sounding so steady and sure that it was hard to believe this was the same wolf currently sending waves of rabid possessiveness through our bond. “If we can get through today, we’ll be together again this evening. And when it comes time for you to leave, we just have to remember that every day apart is one day closer to being reunited.”

I nodded, my throat thick and scratchy. “I knew it was going to be hard… I just didn’t realize it would be this hard. I mean, we’ve already done it once.”

“I know, baby,” he purred, clutching me tighter. “But it’s different this time… and it’s for the best. I won’t be able to focus on the refugees or the other Alphas if you’re with me; I’d be too worried about your safety to give them the attention they deserve.”

He was right. I knew he was right, but that had never been the problem.

“Okay, but if you’re even one minute late coming back, then I’m coming after you,” I threatened sulkily, my voice muffled against his chest.

“I won’t be late,” he promised, kissing my hair four times. “You have my word, Ella. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Sinclair

When this war began, I told myself that when I finally came home, it would be to defeat Damon once and for all.

It wasn’t easy to accept that I was returning to Vanara in a few hours, especially seeing the throngs of bodies clamoring to board the planes upon landing. My family was a thousand miles away, which hurt immensely, but at least I knew I was doing what was best for them, regardless of the distance. It felt different to turn my back on my people languishing there alone. How could I do what was best for them when I’d escaped and they still lived in fear?

As we disembarked, hundreds of wolves pressed around me, crying out with joy, relief, and desperation. They begged for my help, cried out questions about my war plans, beseeched me to overthrow Damon, and pledged their lives to the struggle. It was overwhelming, and I wasn’t the only one who felt it.

I saw the pain, concern, and pity on the faces of every Alpha in my company, even those who hadn’t been particularly cooperative. There might only be a plane ride between these refugees and those in Vanara, but this felt entirely different. These people weren't recovering, licking their wounds, and figuring out what to do now that they were safe. They were still in fight-or-flight mode, unsure if they’d live to see the sunrise.

The scent of their fear was crushing, and I wondered how James managed it every day—knowing he could only save a few and pray nothing happened to those he left behind. I rested a hand on his shoulder as the delegations spread through the crowds, listening to their stories with grave expressions. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” I confessed. “I want you to know how much I respect and appreciate your work. If I hadn’t been so determined to return the ‘right’ way, I would have understood sooner what you’ve been going through.”

“Alpha, that’s your guilt talking,” James replied simply. “These people are thrilled to see you, no doubt, but they know you can’t be here and plan a war at the same time.”

“He’s right,” a she-wolf chimed in. Private conversations were impossible with so many shifters around, not that I minded. “Trust me, Alpha. We don’t want you here every day.”

“What do you want?” I asked, noticing a young boy leaning against her legs. “Is there anything I can do for you while I’m here?”

“You can get us on one of those planes today,” the she-wolf requested, vulnerability crossing her face. “We’ve been waiting three weeks.”

I nodded, unable to refuse. “And you?” I asked the boy. “Would you like to fly today?”

He looked up with a confused frown. “Can my Daddy come with us?”

I glanced at his mother, who knelt beside him. “Finn, you know Daddy is fighting in the resistance. We’ve talked about this, honey.”

He looked unhappy, then at me, hoping I’d say otherwise. “I don’t wanna go without Daddy.”

“Your Daddy must be very proud of you,” I said gently. “He’d have to trust you a lot to leave his mate in your protection. It’s a very big job,” I continued solemnly. “And I’m sure he misses you as much as you miss him, but I think he’d want you to get your Mommy to safety, since he can’t be here to do it himself. She’s in your care until he returns.”

The boy’s eyes widened, his chest puffing with pride as he reached for his mother’s hand. “Come on then, Mommy. We should get you on the plane before it’s full.”

The she-wolf mouthed a tearful thank you as they left, and I felt a fleeting warmth watching them move toward the aircraft. But it was quickly replaced by guilt and helplessness as more shifters rushed forward, eager for the same privilege. I’d opened the floodgates, but I couldn’t regret helping those two. I wanted to help as many as I could, but it was hard to hear individual stories with so many voices competing.

“Please, I have pups!” one woman cried.

“My grandson is injured, we need help!” an elderly wolf countered, waving his arms.

It went on and on, breaking my heart. “What will happen if we stay?” “How much longer before the usurper comes after us?” “The humans are getting closer by the day!”

“The human armies?” I clarified, surprised, wondering why my spies hadn’t reported this.

“No, sir. I mean the human refugees. The camps started small, but the governments aren’t helping, so they’re incredibly disorganized. The more numerous they become, the closer they come to encroaching on us.”

“Are you telling me there are human refugee camps nearby?” I demanded, stunned by my incompetence in not knowing sooner.

“Yes, Alpha,” the man confirmed hesitantly, confused by my sharp tone. “There’s one only three miles from here.”

“Take me,” I commanded. “Now.”