“I wonder what Cora’s up to,” I sighed, rocking Rafe, who was crying and fussing in my arms. He didn’t need anything—he’d been fed, burped, changed, and everything else a baby could want. He was just crying to cry, and I sighed again, smiling at him, knowing he just needed a moment.

Sinclair, sitting on the bed with papers scattered around him, glanced up. “You haven’t had any word from her?” he asked.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “The last I heard was from the guards, who said they were separated from Cora and Roger by a flash flood. I’m…worried about her.”

“You know Roger will take care of her,” Sinclair said passively, flipping through the papers.

“I know,” I sighed, bobbing Rafe. “But even Roger can’t protect against the forces of nature. It’s so strange—they’re only three hours away, apparently caught in a hurricane, and we have sunny skies?” I turned to the window, frowning. Something like my mother’s gift pulsed within me, making my wolf turn, cocking her head curiously. Neither of us knew what to make of it, so I sighed again.

Rafe let out a wail, freeing an arm from his blanket and waving an angry fist.

“Oh, baby,” I murmured, kissing him. “What do you have to worry about? You’re safe with Mommy!”

“Maybe he’s picking up on Mommy’s anxiety,” Sinclair said, standing and coming to us, reaching for the baby. “Maybe he feels it through the bond.”

“Don’t blame me for your child’s bad attitude,” I joked, handing Rafe to his father. His size reminded me of my baby’s delicacy. “He gets that from your side. I’m no crybaby.”

Sinclair laughed, rocking the baby, who instantly quieted, his yowl softening to a murmur. “Why,” Sinclair asked, “do you always suggest his undesirable qualities come from me? I come from excellent stock.”

“Because,” I said, tiptoeing to look at my baby’s face, touching his belly, “I’m a little jealous he quiets so readily in his father’s arms, but not jealous enough to take him back if it means he’ll cry. Along with the jealousy, I love Rafe’s connection with his father; he, like me, finds comfort in the Alpha’s arms. My genetic line is that of a perfect Goddess. You can’t beat that.”

“You have a father too, you know,” Sinclair reminded me.

“Yes,” I said, grinning. “A king. I win. Again.”

Sinclair laughed, opening his mouth to retort, when we heard a knock. We turned; Rafe settled, and Sinclair’s jaw dropped to see his father, Henry, wheeling in.

“Am I interrupting?” Henry asked curiously.

“Dad,” Sinclair said, smiling and moving forward. “No—but how… how did you get up here?”

“Ella’s excellent lift system,” Henry said, as if it were obvious. He looked at me. “This chair is really state-of-the-art,” he said, gesturing to the chair I’d ordered for my bed rest. “I really have to consider one of these for myself.”

“Ella,” Sinclair said, frowning. “I thought I told you to get rid of the chairs and the lift.”

“But Henry needs them!” I said, grinning to hide my disobedience.

Sinclair groaned, realizing he’d never get his house back to normal. I patted his arm; it was the right choice. Henry should have free run of the house, and if I were ever pregnant again…

“It’s very practical,” Henry said, raising an eyebrow at his son. “But I came with information,” he said, pulling a folder from his pocket, “on the cult that Roger and Cora discovered.”

“Oh,” I said, peering over his shoulder. Sinclair stepped forward, a protective hand on Rafe. “What did you find?”

“Unfortunately, the cult is alive and well. The book Cora and Roger found was old because the Monastic Cult of the God of Darkness is secretive. As the book reports, they never write anything down, passing traditions from brother to brother. This allowed them to operate unnoticed for decades. It’s a miracle the book reported anything—we guess the scholar who wrote it was an ex-member.”

“Wow,” I said, looking between Henry and Sinclair. “They’re still…operating? In secrecy?”

“In full force, apparently,” Henry said, tapping the report. Then he looked at his son. “Your investigative team did well once they had this lead. The Cult has had to leave a trail on the dark web and other underground spaces to communicate and acquire materials for their ceremonies. But they’re more powerful than ever.”

“And these men,” Sinclair considered, rocking Rafe absentmindedly, “are responsible for switching the sperm that brought Ella and me together. They, for some reason, wanted Rafe to be born.”

“Indeed,” Henry said, raising his eyebrows. “It’s curious they sent a robed member. High-ranking members in robes are reclusive. It’s lucky the man who tricked Cora—and,” he looked at me, “who has apparently been following you both your whole lives—is a high-ranking member. If it had been a plain-clothes member, we might never have discovered who was behind this.”

“Why is that, though?” I asked, folding my arms. “Why not someone in normal clothes?”

“I don’t know,” Henry said, shrugging. “Perhaps they needed someone with a particular affinity for magic, or great strength. The Goddess’s priests were keeping an eye on you. They likely needed someone strong to evade detection.”

I nodded, looking at Sinclair. His eyes were fixed on his father.

“What is it, Dad?” Sinclair said sharply. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Surprised, I looked at Henry. His face showed no secrecy. I looked back at Sinclair, confused.

Henry sighed. “I should have known you’d see through me, Dominic,” he murmured. “You always could read me like a book.”

“Out with it, Dad,” Sinclair said, tense. I glanced at Rafe, asleep, noting he wasn’t affected by his father’s anxiety, unlike me. I pursed my lips and turned to my father-in-law.

“Our intel spoke to an escaped cult member,” Henry said. “He insists on anonymity, but divulged some practices.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said, hopeful. “That’s so helpful—”

“It is,” Henry said, his eyes still worried. “We’re grateful, but…”

“Dad,” Sinclair growled, annoyed.

“All right, Dominic,” Henry said, raising his hands. “He told us their standard method is to play the long game—placing a member within the target’s inner circle. Spending months or years becoming a confidant, a best friend, or family. Then, when the time is right, that person strikes. The victims are…almost always completely blindsided.”

“Oh my god,” I gasped. “This means…someone we know and love? Someone close to us?”

“Yes,” Henry concluded, nodding. “They’ve likely been working for years to bring about this child’s birth. We still don’t know why they wanted Rafe, and you as his parents, but we do know…”

“That if they’re working this hard,” Sinclair said, “they’ve placed someone in our inner circle seeking to betray us.”

“Oh my god,” I said, my hands flying to my mouth. I racked my mind, wondering who it could be. No one came to mind. Everyone I know and love… none of them could be involved in such a nefarious scheme to steal my baby.

Right?