Chapter 360 – Conference

Ella

When Sinclair and I come into the conference room hand-in-hand, the baby wrapped up and held in my other arm, my eyes go wide to see everyone waiting there. I want, immediately, to ask if this is a confrontation again – like the last time, when they all gathered first to decide how to tell me that I have an evil uncle who is trying to steal my kid.

But as Sinclair closes the door behind us, Henry sees the anxiety on my face. “It is just chance, Ella,” Henry tells me evenly, “that you are last here. I promise you that. Blame the baby – you need more time in the mornings than the rest of us.”

I exhale quickly in relief and then mockingly glare down at the baby, earning a few laughs from the assembled company. I smile around at everyone and realize that it looks like the entire team has been assembled. I’m particularly pleased to see that a few of the men I healed yesterday are here. It makes my heart soar to think that they’re well enough to join in, rather than being restricted their beds.

Before I can say anything, though, Sinclair tugs at my hand, leading me around to the empty chair next to Cora who gives me a bright smile and leans over to say good morning to Rafe – before he moves to his own spot at the center of the table, next to his father and his brother.

“Thank you,” Henry says when Sinclair nods to him to let him know that he’s ready. Then, he looks around at our assembled group, who all look to him with curious eyes.

“There have been some developments,” Henry begins, “both internally and externally. To begin, Ella and Cora have found a way to speed the healing of our men who were injured during our first mission.” He nods to us here, and I’m curious about his

language. Henry came to see me work yesterday, and was as impressed as the rest of us. But I note that his language is vague enough now to suggest that the healing is moving faster, but not how.

Obviously some of the men in the room know how I did it – they were there – but it appears as if Henry is keeping the news of my gift as secret as he can, even amongst our own people. I don’t know how I feel about that – but there’s no time to truly consider it as he moves on.

“This is lucky news,” Henry continues, “as it means that we may be able to launch another assault faster than we thought possible, with our men again fully able. And unfortunately, it seems as if this must be necessary.”

I feel the anxiety rise in me at this news and I look sideways at Cora to see that her expression is the same as mine – a little pale, worried. Neither of us want. our mates out there again anytime soon not after we saw that one single priest could do.

I turn my attention back to the men and see Sinclair looking steadily at his father, nodding to him, encouraging him to explain his analysis.

“We have more evidence now than we did before,” Henry continues, “that Xander, brother to the dead king Xavier, is indeed the main force behind the kidnapping attempts on my grandson. This comes especially from our discovery that the doctor whom Ella had been seeing for fertility treatments previous to her switch to Cora’s sperm bank, was, indeed, connected to Xander. Ella’s previous physician is in fact the child of the man who had long served Xander and Xavier’s family as personal physician.”

“Oh,” I can’t help myself from saying, and then I raise my hand to my lips, sorry to have interrupted. But I’m surprised – I mean, I knew that that doctor had pointed me in the wrong direction but to hear that I had an uncle who set it all up…

I shake my head, considering that this betrayal has been in the works for such a long time.

Beside me, my sister reaches out to take my hand, giving me a little squeeze of support. I turn to her and smile a little, grateful for her, before turning to look down at my little baby. I mean, no one wanted him to be born as much as me, but to think that my uncle had been planning it for so long…

“Yes,” Henry says, watching me from his spot down the table. “I apologize, Ella, if the news comes as a shock. But the connection is too stark for it to be a coincidence. My advice, now that we know and now that we are closer to having a full force of men – is to move as swiftly as we can, while we can still have some advantage in the situation. To the best of our intel, Xander does not yet know that we know he was involved – that he is the “master” to which this priest referred. It would be to our benefit to attack while we still have this advantage.”

Apparently finished, Henry sits back in his seat. Debate breaks out here, but I only turn half an ear to it, spending my time instead staring down at my little boy. I hear Roger ask some important questions like where Xander is now, and how well defended.

Sinclair counters Henry’s plan by suggesting that we may be better of waiting until Xander knows that we know it is him – rattling him, as Xander has never been a notoriously brave character,

especially considering that he’s played all of his cards from the safety of his own home rather than boldly going out to take control of the situation himself.

“So much depends on you, little baby,” I murmur to Rafe as the conversation continues. And I sigh a little anxious sigh as I watch my baby look around the busy room, his eyes – I know – not really understanding anything, but alert and interested anyway. I clench my teeth then, hating it. Hating that this man I’ve never met is putting such pressure on my little child.

Rafe is just a baby – a perfect, innocent little soul. And yet he is already being figured as a figurehead behind which my uncle can hide, as a political pawn that someone else can use to gain power. It horrifies me to consider that Rafe was created as a reaction, in some ways, to my mate’s powerful ascension to the throne: as a way to combine royal blood with powerful blood, to create a ruler to whom no one could reasonably object.

But really, really?

This is my child, created by me, carried by me, loved by me. And it fills me with a very real rage that there are people in this world who view him as a bargaining chip rather than the wonderful, loved miracle he is.

That rage is burning deep within me as I raise my head and realize that the room has gone silent and everyone has turned to me. I don’t have it in me to apologize for not listening, though. Instead, I just look at Sinclair, knowing that he will understand.

“It is your uncle, Ella,” Sinclair says quietly. “Your blood. We will take him out fast tonight, if we can. We think 1 it is best. But we won’t do it without your assent.”

It barely takes a moment – a single blink for me to decide.

“Do it,” I say, my voice cold. “Tear his throat out. But before you do, tell him that I wanted him dead. That I ordered it done. Please.” And then I stand up and look down to Cora. “We have work to do, yes?”

Cora grins at me, proud and a little vicious herself, as she stands up and takes my hand.

I then look towards Sinclair, who gives me a deep nod, agreeing. And then, as one, Cora and I leave the room, heading towards our makeshift little medical suite to continue healing the men, to get them ready for the fight which I know is coming soon.

As the door begins to close behind us, I hear Henry’s words.

“All right. Let’s get started on a plan of attack.”

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