Two hours later, Sinclair and I welcomed our friends back to our house for a casual breakfast and coffee, or mimosas, depending on preference, to celebrate Rafe's moonlit baptism. I could tell our guests were tired—they'd been up all night—but their spirits were high.

"Wow," I said, leaning back against Sinclair's chest with a croissant in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Rafe, thankfully, was asleep in his reclining stroller. Usually, I'd put him to bed in his crib, but I wanted people to be able to say goodbye if they needed to leave. "I can't believe everyone's still up," I said, peering around at our friends and family. "I mean, I know we're on 'baby time,' so normal hours mean nothing anymore, but still…"

"It's a special occasion," Sinclair murmured, lowering his face to my hair and inhaling my scent. "We're used to it. In wolf shifter culture, children are rarer than we'd like, so we take the time to celebrate them when they're born."

"That's so nice…" I said, sniffing and my eyes filling with tears.

"What?" Sinclair asked, pulling away, shocked. "Are you—why are you crying?"

I swatted at him, laughing. "Hormones! I'm tired! Leave me be!" Then I brushed away the tears, smiling despite them. I was just overwhelmed and grateful for all the love our family had shown our baby. "It really is a beautiful tradition," I murmured, and Sinclair kissed my cheek before moving away to talk to some of the Alphas who had come to see their new prince.

As Sinclair moved away, Isabel quickly took his place. "Hi, Mama," she said, smiling warmly as she wrapped an arm around my waist. "How are you doing?"

"Forget about me!" I cried, hugging her. "How are you? How are James and Sadie?"

"They're good," she said, but the way she smiled at her mate across the room told me her words were an understatement. James raised a hand to me; little Sadie was slumped against his shoulder, fast asleep.

"Do you want to put her upstairs in one of the guest rooms?" I asked Isabel, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You can stay as long as you like—"

"No," she said, smiling. "I'm so glad we could be here and meet the baby—but we both want to get home. We have…a lot of work to do." Her face changed, and my stomach twisted.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, anxious, tugging her hand. She nodded toward a small loveseat in the corner, and I followed her there, Rafe's stroller in tow, to gain some privacy.

"Ella," Isabel said softly, her voice a little sad, "I know you've been distracted—and there's nothing wrong with that. You've had such a hard pregnancy, and I know the birth wasn't easy—you really shouldn't have been paying attention to anything besides your body, Rafe, and Sinclair—"

"Please, Isabel," I said, staring at her and tightening my grip on her hand, "please just tell me—" My stomach churned with guilt at the thought of neglecting something I could have helped.

"It's just…I don't think Sinclair has told you everything," she said, "about how bad the refugee problem is now, after the war's final days, when you were away on the boat. It's nothing he's done wrong—Sinclair has made so many strides—but we have more children than ever in our centers, and there are even mothers missing their children."

My face went pale, and I glanced at my sleeping baby. The thought of being separated from him by war—not knowing where he was or if he was safe—wrenched my heart. Isabel noticed my paling face and tear-filled eyes.

"Please, Ella," she said softly, anxiously looking toward Sinclair. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have told you—"

"No," I said, shaking my head and looking at her with new determination. "I need to know, Isabel. I'm getting stronger; I need to do this kind of work. If Sinclair intends to lead these people, I don't intend to stay home and be a happy little housewife while others suffer. I want to help."

She nodded, understanding. "I knew you'd feel that way. That's why I told you—not because…well, Ella, if you're still healing, you need to focus on yourself first. You're so selfless; you always put others ahead of yourself."

My heart softened, and I took a deep breath, still worried but touched by my friend's concern. She knew me so well. "Thank you, love," I said, smiling slightly. "I'll take care of myself and my family. But I'm going to help, too. Can you tell me? Who is worst hit? Where should I begin?"

"Well," she said, lowering her voice and looking around the room. "It's…complicated."

I frowned, not understanding, but giving her space to gather her thoughts.

"Ella," she said, more urgently, "we both know the right side won this war. Damon would have disenfranchised the humans completely, enslaving them if he could. Sinclair, we know, wants equal rights and peace—but there are people, even on Sinclair's side, who still have…complicated ideas about hierarchies between shifters and humans."

I nodded, remembering the war councils when even some of Sinclair's allies looked askance at the humans, at Cora, my sister. I frowned, seeing some of those men in the room. Sighing, I turned back to Isabel.

"I understand. It's something Sinclair is working on, but…old prejudices die hard. But, Isabel, what does that have to do with the refugees?" I asked, confused.

She shrugged. "It just means that since the humans were less prepared for the war—it came as a surprise—they don't have the resources the wolves have to help their people afterward. And some shifters are eager to divert all resources toward shifters first, meaning…"

I exhaled, understanding. "That the humans are getting the short end of the stick." Isabel nodded slowly.

"In all areas," she said slowly. "And Ella," she bit her lip, looking me in the eye, "it means…resentment is building. Humans feel lied to, and now that they know the truth, it seems like Sinclair offered them peace but isn't giving them the resources to survive their new reality."

My eyebrows shot up, and I instinctively defended my mate. "Sinclair is doing everything he—"

"I know, Ella," Isabel said softly, putting a reassuring hand on my knee. "I'm just saying, from the humans' perspective…the trust isn't there. They need help, and they need a reason to believe in Sinclair."

I nodded, staring into space, trying to figure out what I could do.

"Maybe," Isabel suggested softly, "his mate, who was raised human for most of her life, and thought she was human until she conceived a wolf child, and who has a human sister…"

I turned back to Isabel, nodding slowly. "Perhaps I'm the link we need."

"Yes," she said, her eyes shining with hope. "Ella, we need your help. You could do so much good here, on my team."

I gave my friend a warm smile, a plan beginning to form between us. "Please stay," I whispered, shaking my head. "I need you here."

She sighed and looked toward James, considering. "I'll talk to him," she said, smiling at her mate and daughter. "We'll decide, together, what's best."