When I arrived at the address Cora gave me, I struggled to control my temper. She hadn't explained what happened, only that she and Ella needed picking up from a nightclub. I remained calm while getting the details from her, but my anger escalated the closer I got to my disobedient daughter. After her last transgression—sneaking out to see my father—I couldn't believe she'd defied me again. However, as soon as I rounded the corner of the alley behind the club, my fury vanished.

I wasn't sure what I was seeing at first. Roger stood near the back door, naked, disheveled, and bruised. The stench of strange wolves was overpowering, and blood, along with numerous large paw prints, splattered the ground leading away from the club. Cora stood between me and Ella, her taller frame shielding my daughter from view. She looked unharmed but shaken, dressed in a tight red frock.

Roger stiffened at my sight, and Cora turned, revealing Ella. Ella's arms were wrapped around her body; she wore a glittery black minidress and heels. She stared at the ground, appearing both agitated and withdrawn. A large black-and-blue bruise marred her high cheekbone, and a cut on her lip was crusted with dried blood.

I rushed forward, but Cora intercepted me, a pleading expression on her face. "Please be gentle—she's in shock."

I immediately went around her, reaching for Ella. Roger and Cora both raised their hands. "No!" They seemed to think my touch might frighten Ella, but as soon as we made contact, the tension drained from her like a bursting dam. Instinctively, she came to me, nestling close and clinging to my shirt. Her nose pressed against my chest as she inhaled my scent.

Roger and Cora watched, confused, and I wondered if Ella had been afraid of their touch. The implications were obvious, and I held her tighter. "What happened?" I asked, glaring at Roger. If Ella hadn't needed comfort, I might have attacked him already. Seeing any man near her when she was injured was a violent trigger.

"Rogues," Roger answered simply. "I smelled them near my house and followed. They had Ella cornered. They were talking about…" He trailed off, glancing nervously at the woman in my arms. "They were sent to kill her, but they obviously wanted to have some fun with her first."

A growl tore through my chest. I wasn't sure what enraged me more: the attempt on Ella's life, her trembling at Roger's description, or his mentioning their intentions in front of her. Ella burrowed closer, and I wrapped my coat around her shivering body, buttoning it at her waist to keep us both warm. "I fought them off, and they ran," Roger continued. "But she was already hurt before I arrived… I don't know how."

Leaning close to Ella's ear, my voice was ragged. My wolf was raging; I wanted nothing more than to hunt down those men and kill them. "Did they touch you?" I demanded, stroking her hair. She shook her head against my chest; I heard a hiccup, as if she was holding back sobs. She still wouldn't look at me, and I realized she was probably afraid she was in trouble, even though she needed my comfort.

"I think one of them hit her," Cora said, referring to Ella's battered face. "But she wouldn't talk about it. She just kept saying she was fine and wanted to go home." I pictured the scene and felt a surge of warmth knowing Ella had sought me out for safety.

Cora frowned. "I don't know how they found her. We were dancing, and then… I think she got overheated and went outside. But… it was like they were waiting for her."

I nodded. "However it happened, we both owe Roger our thanks." I hated saying it; the circumstances were incredibly suspicious. Cora was right; the red flags were compounded by the fact my brother had found Ella just in time. Still, I didn't want to reveal my suspicions. If his account was true, I owed him thanks; if not, I needed to play my cards close to my chest to uncover the truth. "Brother, can you take Cora home?"

Cora was reluctant to leave Ella, but eventually departed with Roger, giving me another imploring look. I presumed she was asking me not to be harsh with her sister, but she needn't worry. I had no intention of scolding or punishing Ella—not tonight, at least.

"Come on, little one," I encouraged, unbuttoning my coat and scooping her up. She slid her arms around my neck, leaning her uninjured cheek against my shoulder. The car ride home was quiet, and when we reached the mansion, I took her straight upstairs to my bathroom.

I set her on the counter and rummaged for a first-aid kit. Ella leaned against the mirror, her face devoid of emotion. "Come here, let me look at you," I instructed, retrieving the supplies.

Catching her face in my hands, I tilted her head, studying her injuries, trying to stay calm. The bruise on her cheek was swelling rapidly, its bright red center showing how close the blow had come to breaking her skin. The cut on her lip seemed minor, but the dried blood worried me.

I wet a washcloth and began cleaning the cut. Ella hissed and winced. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," I crooned. "It has to be done." She sniffled and closed her eyes as I continued, determined to endure without complaint. However, when I switched to alcohol, she practically leaped off the counter, whimpering pitifully. "Shh, baby, I know. I'm almost done," I promised, holding her firmly.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I asked later, applying an ice pack to her cheek. She flinched but replaced my hand with hers, maintaining the cool pressure.

"They already told you," she murmured, silently submitting as I removed her dress to check for other injuries.

Relieved to find no other wounds, I pressed my hand to her belly; the baby seemed perfectly fine. Its heartbeat was steady and strong, and though I sensed earlier unease—no doubt caused by Jane's fear—it now seemed relieved to be home. "I want to hear it from you," I pressed gently. "Roger and Cora don't know what happened when you were alone with them."

Ella blinked up at me; I was surprised by the lack of emotion on her face. "It was nothing. I went outside for air. Then I heard movement in the alley, and they appeared. I tried to go back inside, but the door was locked—"

"It was locked?" I questioned, more sharply than intended.

"Yes, but it was probably an automatic door," she reasoned. "Anyway, I offered them money; I told them I was your mate and you'd kill them if they harmed me. Then one hit me… and I made the mistake of provoking him…" She trailed off. "Roger turned up soon after."

"Provoked him how?" I asked, pleased she was talking but disliking the hollow look in her eyes and emptiness in her words.

Ella stared at her lap. "It's not important. He probably planned on… raping me even before that."

Sighing, I pulled her into my arms. "I'm sure he did," I confirmed, knowing how strange a comfort this must seem. Ella clearly knew their intentions, and I'd rather she understand she hadn't caused them, than deny the danger was always present.

"You really don't have to fuss over me," Ella said after a moment. "I'm fine."

"You don't have to be fine, Ella," I said sternly.

She squirmed, and I reluctantly released her. I wasn't sure what I expected her to say, but her next question surprised me. "Why didn't you tell me about the other rogue attacks?"