Ella’s face hardened as she saw her uncle, Xander, step forward. He’d been invited as part of the Atalaxian delegation, but after their stern message about his unwelcome presence, she was surprised he’d even attended.

She glanced at Sinclair, following his gaze to his security team. They nodded, assuring him they’d thoroughly vetted Xander, confirming he possessed no weapons.

Considering her mate was a formidable warrior capable of dispatching Xander effortlessly, she supposed there was little to fear. Still, she tightened her arms around her child, sensing Sinclair tense behind her. Her wolf, inwardly, bared its teeth, eager to attack.

Ella didn't bother calming her wolf; its rage was justified.

Perhaps sensing their hostility, Xander smiled smugly and took a step forward, bowing deeply.

“Your Highnesses,” he said, his voice precise. “I offer my congratulations on your ascension and the naming of your heir. It is quite an accomplishment.”

“Not without its obstacles,” Sinclair retorted, his voice tight. “But yes, it is a wonderful day—darkened only by your presence. Leave, Xander. You’re not welcome here, despite Atalaxian government protection. Refuse, and I’ll have you removed.”

“I’ll go,” Xander said, straightening. His eyes fell on Rafe. “I merely wanted to see the child I arranged to bring into the world. He is as handsome as I hoped.”

“But no desire to see me, or acknowledge my presence?” Ella snapped, angered despite herself. “Your own blood? Your brother’s child?”

“My brother’s daughter,” Xander corrected, his gaze still fixed on Rafe. “My focus rests on the male line.”

Slowly, Ella passed Rafe to Sinclair, then stepped between Xander and her son, forcing Xander to look at her. When he tried to look around her, she shifted her weight, blocking his view.

“No,” she snapped, her voice icy. “You will look at me, Xander. I am your Queen.”

“You are not my queen,” he hissed, his eyes finally meeting hers, hard and dark. “I am Atalaxian now.”

“It matters not,” she said dismissively. Then, without conscious thought, she activated her gift. She didn't close her eyes, letting the lavender calmness radiate outward. She saw the lavender tint in the air, though she wasn't sure if others could.

“What—” Xander breathed, hissing as her gift touched him, beginning to work.

Ella didn't heal him; she merely sought. And she saw it all—inside him.

“You will die,” she said calmly. “No matter your queen, or country. I see it—the cancer spreading. Even if you’d taken Rafe, you wouldn’t have lived long enough to enjoy your throne.”

“Lies!” Xander hissed, taking a frightened step back. “You’re a witch—like all women—”

“Enjoy your short life, Xander,” Ella sighed, returning to Sinclair’s side, taking Rafe back. “We needn’t kill you. You’ll be dead soon.”

“You’ve cursed me—”

“I didn’t need to,” she interrupted, bored. “Go. We have celebrations. I’ll tell Sarah and Jessica you said hello.”

Xander stiffened, his eyes flashing between Sinclair and Ella. “My property—” he growled. “You will return them immediately—”

“People aren’t property, you horrible old fool.” Ella sighed and nodded to Sinclair’s guards. They immediately grabbed Xander, dragging him away. He protested, attracting some attention, but was removed quickly enough to avoid major disruption.

Ella slumped against Sinclair, resting her head on his chest.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, stroking her back.

“I am,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry—did I… I don’t want to cause an international incident. I hope I did right.”

A small smile touched his lips. “You did perfectly, Queen,” he said, stroking her cheek. “Need a moment?”

“Would you mind?” she asked, gesturing toward a nearby balcony. “Just to…collect myself.”

“Not at all,” he said, reaching for the baby.

“I want him with me,” she said, grimacing slightly.

“Of course,” Sinclair murmured, kissing her lips and urging her gently. “I’d come with you, but—”

“No,” she smiled. “The people need their King. We won’t keep them waiting.”

He nodded, proud, and she whispered she’d only take a moment before heading to the balcony. She heard footsteps and smiled, seeing Sinclair had sent Conner to watch over them.

Conner nodded, and feeling more peaceful, Ella stepped onto the balcony. The quiet was immediate, and she breathed deeply, closing her eyes briefly. Rafe gurgled happily, and she laughed, looking down at him.

“Do you like the peace and quiet, baby Prince?” she asked softly. He grinned and waved.

She laughed again, kissing him before leaning against the railing, relaxing. Her mind turned to her uncle and his hateful words—none of which were surprising. Henry had warned her.

But hearing them from Xander? It was still a blow.

She scowled, considering she shouldn't have mentioned Sarah and Jessica—a slip due to anger. But she didn't get far before a shadow detached itself from the wall, clearing its throat awkwardly.

Ella jumped, giving a small shriek as the shadow stepped forward.