The next day, Cora and Roger arrived early. Roger and Sinclair left, their faces solemn, to consult with their aides and advisors on how to respond to the impending news. Our reconnaissance teams reported that the Atalaxian delegation had returned home last night and remained in council until dawn. This suggested an imminent declaration of war.

Sinclair, I knew, was carefully considering his public response. He and Roger were recording a message to the nation, to be released upon the declaration of war. But Cora and I?

We were simply being mothers.

"Ella," Cora sighed, holding Rafe toward me in my closet, wrinkling her nose. "I think our precious future king needs changing." I sighed, my sweater halfway on. "So? Change him." When I pulled my sweater down, I saw her grinning, Rafe still outstretched in her arms. "Nope," she said, shaking her head. "Your baby, your diaper."

"You'll regret that policy," I said, taking Rafe with raised eyebrows, "in juuuuust about three and a half months, Cora."

"And for three and a half months, I will be diaper-free!" she called after me, laughing, as I carried my smelly baby to his changing table.

Rafe grinned, looking honestly proud of himself, and I laughed as I changed him. "Little Rafe," I cooed, smiling at his perfect face and tickling his belly, "getting so big! Do you want an apple or some avocado today?" As I finished, Cora emerged from the closet, changed into a comfortable set of my clothes. She had arrived at the palace in more formal attire, but as soon as Sinclair indicated she wouldn't need to appear or speak, she immediately changed.

I smiled at her, picking up Rafe, my eyes falling to her clearly visible baby bump.

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes and laughing. "I'm getting huge."

"Oh, no you're not," I laughed, as we moved into the living area and settled onto the couch. "Trust me, you'll know you're huge when you can't see your feet." Cora looked down at her feet tucked beneath her, her hands resting on her belly. "These wolf pregnancies go so fast," she said, shaking her head. "Human moms get nine months; it's crazy that wolf mothers only get two-thirds of that time."

"Or less," I said, raising my eyebrows. "I didn't even make it to six months."

"I wonder how long mine will be," she murmured, studying her belly, smiling at her baby-to-be. "No way of knowing with this hybrid stuff."

"Surprises are always exciting," I said, resting on the couch, holding Rafe close so he could see his aunt. He giggled—the sweetest sound.

"Not when the surprise results in a pup," Cora murmured, displeased. "I'd like to know, to have a timeline."

"Timelines are just you trying to control the chaos, sis," I murmured, resting my head against Rafe's. "And with children—and this family?" I shook my head. "Maybe it's better to just lean into the unknown. There's no predicting or controlling what comes next."

"Yeah, well," Cora sighed, looking up. "With war on the horizon? And Roger looking like he'll be in the thick of it?" she shook her head. "Forgive me, Ella, if I lean into my desire for increased control a little more."

I nodded, understanding. Before I could respond, the door opened, and Roger and Sinclair entered, shockingly empty-handed—no tablets, phones, or paperwork, the usual accoutrements of running a nation.

"What," I frowned, looking up at my mate. "All done for the day?"

"Nothing more we can do," he murmured. "Budge over, I want to sit." I grinned, scooting over to make room. Cora wordlessly made space, sitting on Roger's lap, her legs over the arm of his chair. I leaned against my mate, pleased when he put an arm around me.

My smile widened as Roger kissed Cora's jaw, then her mating mark.

"So?" I said, turning to Sinclair. "Is it done?"

"It is," he replied, sighing. He grabbed the remote, turning on the television. The news channel displayed the words: WAR DECLARED.

Not wanting to hear the details, Sinclair muted the television and hugged me tighter. I sighed, pressing against him, then kissed Rafe's hair.

"We tried so hard to avoid it," I murmured.

"They know they have the upper hand," Sinclair replied, shaking his head. "It's a gamble—but if they win, the rewards will be worth it. Moon Valley is incredibly valuable, in land and intellectual resources."

"Which means they'll fight hard to take it," Roger sighed. "It's going to be a long war."

"How long?" I murmured, looking down at Rafe, glad he was oblivious.

"Long enough," Sinclair said quietly, "that it's unlikely he'll grow up knowing peace, Ella. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said instantly—it wasn't his fault. I bolstered myself, knowing Sinclair was as worried as I was, and that he needed me to be strong. I forced a smile, clinging to the hope I knew I had, even though my heart ached.

"At least," I said, looking at Sinclair, "Rafe has a big, strong papa to protect him."

"Oh, he doesn't need me," Sinclair replied, laughing, and playfully jabbing Rafe's tiny hands, making it look like he was punching. I laughed. "Our boy's a fighter, Ella. Born that way."

I bit my lip. I wanted Rafe to choose his own future—fighter, artist, or both. But we all grow up in worlds that shape us, and if our hearts are true, they lead us to what's meant for us.

"He's going to have a beautiful life," I murmured, stroking his hair. "No matter what Atalaxia throws at us. We're going to give him that."

"That's right," Sinclair said, kissing my head. I kissed him back.

"Don't forget about our baby," Roger called, frowning. I grinned at my sister and her mate. "His life is going to be even better."

"Really, Roger?" Sinclair said dryly. "We have to get competitive about this too?"

"Damn right we do," Cora said, grinning. "Our kid is going to be even happier than yours."

"Challenge accepted," I said, pretending to glare. "Whoever's kid has the better life wins." We all laughed, knowing both boys were winners with a family like ours.

"Whatever happens," Sinclair said, looking around, "we have each other. And that's all that matters."

"Precisely," Cora said, hand on her stomach. "Whatever this world throws at us, we can face it." I held my baby tight, leaned against my mate, and smiled at my family, knowing they were right. I had big plans for our future—plans I hadn't shared yet—but I was grateful for my strong family.