Ella, Cora, and Roger's reception lasted late into the night, which suited me perfectly. For the first time this week, Sinclair and I weren't the center of attention, and we could simply enjoy the party.
That's not entirely true, of course. We're still the King and Queen, and our duties can't be completely ignored. However, it was much easier with Cora and Roger circulating, greeting guests and expressing their gratitude.
I smiled, sipping my soda during a break in the dancing, watching Roger hold Cora close as they chatted with some people I didn't recognize—old friends of Cora's from medical school, I think.
"He hasn't taken his hands off her all night," Sinclair chuckled. I grinned up at him. "Look who's talking," I said, glancing down at his arm wrapped around me.
"What can I say?" he murmured, grinning. "You're very touchable." Rafe, nestled sleepily against my chest, squeaked, making us laugh.
"Don't worry, baby," Sinclair said, kissing Rafe's hair. "You're very cute too; I haven't forgotten." Rafe grumbled slightly but relaxed, his eyes closing.
"I don't think he'll last much longer," I sighed, looking at my baby. "Do you think the party will miss me too much if I leave early?" "The party will miss its most beautiful guest, surely," Sinclair said, and I rolled my eyes at his flattery. "But I'm sure everyone will forgive you. And Cora will be jealous." "Nah," I said, eyeing my sister across the room. She hadn't stopped smiling since we walked down the aisle. "She's having a good time—just as I knew she would. Cora always says she doesn't want a fuss, but then she's delighted when she gets one." "She's lucky to have you," Sinclair said.
We relaxed for a moment, me contemplating my escape, when Sinclair stiffened.
"What is it?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Nothing new," he murmured, eyes on the far side of the room. "Just… Atalaxians." My heart sank. I'd seen Calvin earlier; he'd congratulated Cora. He's the only Atalaxian I even like. The others? Well, they were present, as all foreign delegations had been invited to the ceremony and reception. But earlier, when I saw my uncle actually had the audacity to show up, I was shocked.
"Is he still there?" I asked, trying to tiptoe to see, but I'm too short.
"Indeed," Sinclair murmured, clearly as unhappy as I was. Xander hadn't spoken to us or offered congratulations—which was fine by me. Still, we'd both be happier when he left.
Sinclair frowned, watching the group of foreigners, and I felt a twinge of worry. I glanced at my mate, wondering if it originated with him or if I was sensing it myself.
Then, shouting erupted from that corner of the room, and my stomach dropped.
Sinclair instantly moved, taking my hand and striding across the room. I hurried to keep up, practically running, and Rafe woke with an upset squeal. I sent calming thoughts through our bond, and he quieted, though he remained awake and fidgety.
"What is this?" Sinclair demanded, his voice loud as he reached a large group. He kept his hand around mine, but I stood slightly back, letting him take charge.
Immediately, I saw the problem, and I wasn't surprised my uncle was at the center of it.
Several Atalaxian men, stiff in their tuxedos, bristled at a human woman with her twin daughters pressed close. The woman looked worried.
"I—I'm sorry," she said, upset and confused. "The girls wanted more candy," she explained, clearly thinking she was in trouble. She gestured to the individually wrapped peppermint bark (Cora's favorite) at each guest's place. "I noticed this table hadn't eaten theirs, and the girls asked…"
"How dare you," my uncle growled, looking at the woman and children with disdain. "Even speak to me, let alone beg a favor!" My jaw dropped. Seriously? He considered human women so inferior that he reacted this way when they spoke to him?
"Enough," Sinclair cut in, his voice sharp. The Atalaxians, who had been behind Xander, noticed my mate was supporting our guest and hesitated.
"I made it clear," Sinclair said, focusing on my uncle, "that your ridiculous politics have no place in my court. I can't control how you treat people in Atalaxia, but here, you will respect my guests, regardless of gender or shifter status." He stepped forward, squeezing my hand before dropping it to loom over my uncle. "Is there any confusion on that point?"
I quickly approached the woman (who I didn't know) and put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, shaking my head, hoping my earnestness conveyed that this was a mistake. "Please," I said, turning her away and smiling at her daughters. "You did nothing wrong. Come with me; we'll get you as much chocolate as you can carry—"
But before we could fully turn, a snarl ripped from my uncle, making us freeze as he hunched before Sinclair, on the verge of transforming.
"I will not be cowed," Xander growled, "by some over-eager pup who lets women and humans run his house. My line is the true power in this nation."
"Be careful, Xander," Sinclair said, his own ferocity rising as he stepped closer to the smaller, older man. "I've taken out stronger men than you. And I won't let you question my choices, or my mate." Xander snarled, clearly wanting a fight, but his wolf knew he'd already been beaten. He took a step back, his shoulders hunching under Sinclair's stare.
"This is my kingdom now," Sinclair said, his voice soft and deadly. "And you and your kind—prejudiced old bigots—you are not welcome." He stared hatefully into Xander's eyes before looking at the rest of the Atalaxian delegation, conveying the message applied to them as well if they sided with Xander.
Only Calvin hung his head in shame. The others, I could tell, were still deciding their next move.