Chapter 418: Vengeance—Ella

Cora's frank, curious questions about Sarah's mother allowed Sarah to answer impassively, as if giving a report to a doctor rather than breaking a painful truth to a queen who might weep. I smiled at my sister's back, grateful she was giving Sarah what I couldn't.

"He beat her," Sarah said, her words twisting my heart. "Sheshe was growing older, and couldn't do her chores as she used to. And" Sarah bit her lip, looking only at Cora, confiding what she couldn't tell the rest of us while maintaining her composure. "And he started to look at me the way he looked at my mother. She tried to keep me away from him, finding other chores for me in other parts of the house. When he realized what she was doing, he"

Sarah's voice cracked, forcing me to look away to avoid tears. Sinclair slipped a hand onto my knee, offering comfort without interrupting Sarah.

Sarah took a deep breath. "He called her an idiot and a whore for trying to protect herself from him. He said he could do whatever he wanted with all of us—take our bodies, our lives. And then," she shrugged, looking down at the tablecloth, "he took her life to show herand to show me."

I looked back at Sarah, who met Cora's gaze, then mine. I hoped she saw my burning desire for vengeance in my eyes. I would not let that man live.

"That's when," she said, nodding at me and then, more shyly, at Sinclair, "when Mother died, I decided that if he could take what I loved most, I could take what he wanted most. The baby—I could take that away from him. And so I tried."

"You succeeded," Sinclair said quietly.

"No," she vehemently shook her head, looking down at her hands. "You would have been safe anyway—you would have figured it out."

Roger leaned around Cora to address Sarah directly. "The note gave us an advantage. Without it, they might have taken Rafe. We owe you a great debt."

"No," she said instantly, flushing. "I don't want anything. I don't want you to think I did this for anything in return."

"We don't think that, Sarah," I said softly, hugging my baby close and leaning forward. "But we want to help you, as we want to help the other refugees. Though," I smiled, "I do want to help you a little more than the others. I'm so grateful. What would you like? You can have anything!" I grinned, pointing at my sister's mate. "You can even take Roger! He's the least useful—"

Cora squeaked in protest as Sinclair burst into laughter, and Roger glared at me, mouth agape. Sarah laughed, shaking her head vehemently.

Roger's shock turned to Sarah. "Wait, you don't want me either!?" he gasped. We all laughed harder as he dramatically slumped back in his chair, playing along for the sake of the mood. We needed a laugh.

I wanted Sarah to know we heard her, and I wanted to give her some of the hope Cora and I had always shared—that things can and will get better. Perhaps that started today, with a little laughter at Roger's expense. I offered him an apologetic look, but he winked understandingly. I turned back to Sarah.

"We'll talk about it, okay?" I said, holding my baby. "But we're going to be friends now, Sarah. Good friends, friends for life. And friends help each other."

Sarah's smile was slow, but when it bloomed, my heart soared. I saw the hope I'd been searching for. I intended to keep my word. Sarah would have a good life, and I would help her get it.

"Ohhhh, Sarah!" Jessica cried, running over with two kittens, worry etched on her face. "Please, can we keep them?" She looked at the orange and grey kittens, her voice frantic. "I love them so much! You have to let me keep them!"

"Oh, Jessica," Sarah sighed, hugging her sister. "We don't even have a home yet—"

"And they're too young to leave their mother," Henry added seriously. "Perhaps in a few weeks? You and your sister can talk about it again."

Jessica groaned at the thought of leaving the kittens, making me chuckle.

"Well, you can stay here until we find you a home," I said, crossing my fingers under the table, making a reckless offer without consulting Sinclair. "So you can still see them every day, when you're not at school."

"School?" she asked, wide-eyed. "I—I get to go to school?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, looking at Sarah, who smiled and nodded excitedly. "Yes, Jessica. School every day, and kittens at night. Does that sound like a good start?"

A tear rolled down Sarah's cheek as Jessica vehemently agreed, cuddling the kittens. I looked at Sinclair, hoping for his approval.

He was already nodding, making me grin. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "My sweet, good mate," he murmured through our bond. "You'll be a wonderful queen."

Warmth spread through me. If being queen meant doing things like this, I was all in.

But that warmth was tempered by anger, sadness, and rage. Even if we helped Sarah and Jessica, Xander and others like him were still out there. We had work to do. Work I was determined to pursue.