Her lower lip trembled, tears streaming down her cheeks. Finally, the truth came out. "I ate all my bacon!" My heart immediately eased. My wolf hated the sound of Ella's tears, but I was relieved this was just a mood swing.

Chuckling, I pulled her into my arms. "It's okay, baby, we can get more bacon."

The next morning, I woke up bright and early, though not intentionally. Ella wriggled out of my arms and raced to the bathroom, jarring me awake. This was quickly becoming our morning ritual, and I was far less concerned about my little human's unhealthy snacking than I had been a week ago; I was simply pleased she could keep some food down.

When Ella was finally done being sick, I coaxed her back to bed and wrapped her in my arms. My wolf urged me to scent mark her, but I wanted to give her a few minutes to regain her strength before I began rubbing my body against hers. Of our daily rituals, marking Ella had quickly become my favorite. It was a unique sort of ecstasy and torment: satisfying my wolf and claiming the mother of my pup, while simultaneously denying both our lusts when they inevitably flared.

I knew how powerfully the intimate contact affected the little human, and the scent of her arousal was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. It wasn't as if I wasn't equally aroused, but I didn't have wild pregnancy hormones surging through my body. I wondered how much longer Ella would be able to hold out before asking for more. More importantly, I wondered if I would have the strength to deny her when that time came.

"You know the only good thing about this crazy six-month pregnancy?" Ella asked. "You get to be done with morning sickness faster?" I guessed.

"Mhmm." She hummed, pressing her nose to my chest and breathing deeply.

I reached down to the hem of her nightdress and deftly slipped my hand inside, resting it on the soft, warm skin of her belly. I felt a steady heartbeat and waves of contentment through our mental link. "Well, I know you're miserable, but if it helps, the baby is happy as can be."

"Of course he is," she murmured sleepily. "He's always happy when you're around."

"And what about you?" I asked. "Are you happy when I'm around?" I wasn't sure why I pressed her this way. I knew that at least some of the baby's emotions were feeding directly off Ella's, meaning she was probably content around me, at minimum. Still, I wanted to know.

"That depends," the cheeky creature replied, "on whether or not you're being all high-handed and bossing me around."

I shook my head, shifting my hands to tickle her sides. Ella giggled and squealed, trying to wriggle away, but I held her tight. Soon we were writhing around on the bed, Ella begging for mercy as I continued tickling her, and me showing no mercy whatsoever. Before long, the tickling turned into the intimate dance of scent marking, and as our bodies rubbed sensuously together, I realized an unavoidable truth: if Ella lost control and asked me to go further, there was no way in hell I'd be able to deny her.

A little while later, I headed downstairs for work, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my brother waiting in the foyer. "What are you doing here?" I asked coldly.

Roger arched a brow. "It's amazing how alike you and your little mate already sound. That's precisely how she greeted me the other day." A rush of pride surged through me. "That's because she's a very clever she-wolf."

"Or because you've turned her against me," Roger suggested.

"I don't need to manipulate Ella for her to see through you, Roger," I remarked, descending the last few steps. "And you didn't answer my question."

"I wanted to check on Ella," he answered easily. "I was worried after the other night."

"She's fine," I replied simply, feeling he didn't deserve more information. I knew he'd saved Ella, but I still found the circumstances incredibly suspicious. I'd already sent a team of investigators to look for the rogues since the night of the attack, and planned to assign another team to investigate my brother's potential involvement today. Now that he'd shown up, it would be my top priority.

"Can I see her?" Roger asked, looking uncertain.

My wolf growled in my chest, and I had to forcibly restrain myself from lashing out. "Ella was sick this morning, and besides, I need to speak with you. Walk me to work?" I suggested.

Roger frowned but agreed. "Is she alright?"

His interest in my little human's well-being made my hackles rise. It all sounded innocent and compassionate, but I wouldn't put anything past Roger. He was the king of manipulation and gaslighting, and though I didn't think he wanted to harm Ella, I didn't think his preoccupation with her was innocent either.

"Naturally, I'm investigating the rogue attack," I told him as we headed out into the snow, my bodyguards flanking us. "But I wanted to see if you picked up on any particular details that might help us track down or identify the culprits." He adopted a thoughtful expression. "You mean like distinguishing features or tattoos?"

"Sure, or anything they might have said—really any hints about their identities or who hired them," I clarified.

"The only thing I overheard was them discussing having 'fun' with her before they finished the job," he reported.

I emitted a violent snarl, and Roger flinched. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pleased to have startled him. "Sorry," I lied. "You know how it is."

"Actually, I don't—you stole my mate, remember," Roger snapped back.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it," I answered. "Only that wolves prioritize those we care about most."

"Whatever," he grumbled. "I can tell you that three of them were gray and the leader was red once they transformed. Definitely not locals. Their accents sounded like they came from somewhere in the east, but that doesn't mean the person who hired them is also foreign."

I nodded. "And remind me, how did you find her that night?"

"I told you, I didn't know Ella was their target. I simply smelled rogues and took up the hunt," Roger supplied.

"That was incredibly lucky," I told him. "If it weren't for you, who knows what might have happened."

"I was happy to help," Roger answered easily, either not picking up on or acknowledging the inherent suspicion in my remark. "Ella is family now, and your pup will be the future of this pack. I'm actually glad you suggested we walk together. I wanted to see Ella, but I also wanted to talk to you. I think it's high time we put the past behind us."

"Because of Ella and the pup?" I stated, disbelieving.

"In part," he confirmed. "It was one thing to be at odds when Lydia and the pack were still between us, but it's been five years since Dad got hurt, and almost two since Lydia left. At a certain point, it just seems petty to hold onto old grudges, especially when the future is so bright for our family. I want to be in my niece or nephew's life, and soon you'll be King. We should be united if you're going to rule. The attack made me realize that loud and clear."

"You know, Roger, the bad blood between us has never been on my end. I've never held a grudge against you, so I don't know why you're bringing this up as if our conflict is mutual. If you want to stop working against our family, then stop."

Roger's skin flushed. "How typical of you not to take any responsibility for what happened," he griped. "I come to you with an olive branch, and you foist all the blame on me."

I stopped, turning toward him. "Do you have any idea how many years I spent in therapy to stop blaming myself for Mom's death?" I demanded. "I was a child—I didn't do anything wrong, and she did what any good mother would—protect her pup. I know you've never seen it that way, but I'm done letting you make me feel guilty for taking her from you. I lost her too, you know!"

"If you hadn't—" He began, worked up into a rage. So much for putting the past behind us—he couldn't be that resolved to mend bridges if that little pushback set him off.

"No, Roger!" I snapped. "I'm done with this. If you want to move on, then move on, and the family will welcome you back—even and especially Ella, because she doesn't have a cruel bone in her body. But if you can't stop blaming a pup for things out of his control, then you better believe I'll never let you set a foot near mine."

Without another word, Roger turned and stormed away. On one hand, I was proud of myself for finally standing up for the child I once was; on the other, I wondered if I'd just made a terrible mistake. Roger had always had a volatile personality, and he was dangerous even at his best. I hoped I hadn't just put Ella in even more danger.