Dinner Party lla I enter the elaborate dining room at Sinclair’s side with Rafe tucked sleeping in my
arms. There are no doubts or hesitations on my face and I lift my chin high as I smile slightly, letting
people see me as my mate’s unbothered Queen, as someone entirely unruffled by the events of this
morning.
Sinclair, walking at my side, presents a similar image: the unflappable Alpha King, his body fully
capable of every violent rumor of which our guests have heard, but toned and refined by the mind of a
King, a true power player.
The effect we have as a pair ripples through the room with people turning to us, many eyes going wide.
Because we really do present the image of two people who should not be trifled with.
I have to admit, a little thrill goes through me at the idea of this. Because, honestly, I usually think of
myself as sweet and determined, but certainly not powerful and imposing. But tonight, at Sinclair’s
side? It comes to me easier than I thought it would.
Cora and Roger come into the room behind us, our personal guards following after them. Many eyes
turn to my human sister, considering her alongside and her fated Alpha mate. I know Roger and Cora
are baffling to many people within the wolf community who can’t understand how or why Roger would
have a human woman fated to be at his side.
But one look at my stunning sister in her lavender gown? Well. Let’s just say that even without the
information that she’s a demigoddess who can control the weather, I think it’s making a lot more sense
to a lot of our gathered guests.
Still, as Sinclair and I approach our chairs at the head of the table, I’m aware of some frowns and
whispers around the room. Even though the four of us present a strong and untied front, there are as
there always are dissenters amongst our supporters. My eyes move immediately to the group of five
ambassadors from Atalaxia, dressed in back and gathered at the far end of the table.
Sinclair sent word, of course, that my uncle was absolutely not invited to attend this smaller, more
personal dinner, and I am pleased to see that he’s not there.
But I narrow my eyes in their direction anyway, wondering what the hell else they’ve got up their sleeve.
“Dominic, Ella,” I hear Henry’s voice say, and I turn to see him wheeling towards us. My face breaks
into a grin and I lean forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek and tilting the baby so that Henry can say
hello as Sinclair greets his father as well.
“I’ve heard you’ve had a tough morning,” Henry says quietly as people around the room begin to take
their seats. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there – ” “Please,” Sinclair says, dismissing his apology with a wave. “We
handled it well.
There’s nothing you could have done.” “Still,” Henry sighs, rolling up to his place at the table on
Sinclair’s left. “I’d have liked to have seen the man for myself, been able to assess him. But I’m sure I’ll
have more opportunity for that as the weekend passes.” “Yes,” I sigh, taking my own seat as Sinclair
pulls it out for me. “I’m sure you will.” I hold my sleeping baby close to me as Cora and Roger take their
own seats to my right, and then I look up at Sinclair, who is still standing. A warm smile lights my
mate’s face as he lifts a glass of wine towards the waiting group of people and begins to welcome
everyone formally to the palace, letting them know that he hopes the weekend will be full of many
pleasurable and fruitful conversations about the future of our collected nations.
I smile up at my mate as I listen to him speak, proud of this man who can so seamlessly move between
worlds. I’ve seen him in so many different lights now father, mate, soldier, politician, and beyond – and
I’m so impressed that he is able to perform each role so admirably. Honestly, my heart tumbles a little
over itself as I watch him. I couldn’t have designed a more perfect mate if I tried.
I blush to myself a bit, looking down at my baby, thinking myself the luckiest girl in the world. And then I
glance around the table, pleased when I see everyone’s eyes focused on my mate, a variety of
expressions crossing their faces most of them warm.
But when my eyes fall on the Atalaxian prince?
I’m shocked to see him looking directly at me. Staring, even.
I blink and sit up straight a little bit, surprised. And my shock only increases when he fails to look away,
instead holding my gaze, his face expressionless as he studies me, apparently ignoring the speech and
instead trying to figure me out.
I find myself growing more and more uncomfortable under his gaze. What… why on earth would he be
so interested in me?
I stare back at him, my own eyes fixed, trying to figure out the mystery But then I jump a little when the
room breaks into applause. I bite my lip then, a little ashamed at having missed the tail end of my
mate’s speech. But – well, considering that we went over it together last night, refining all the details, I
suppose I already know what he said.
When Sinclair looks down at me and tils his glass towards me, I beam up at him, giving my full support.
His own smile deepens before he turns back to our crowd of guests, calling for a toast to international
friendship and a bright future.
Our guests call the words back to him, heartily joining in with the spirit.
I raise my own glass along with everyone else, genuinely hoping that this can be true. But as my eyes
again return to the Atalaxian delegation?
I see that while they raise their glasses in a slight show of support, their eyes are cold. And I have a
distinct feeling that they’re going to make our jobs very difficult.
The rest of the meal goes well, with general chatter and delicious food. I pass Rafe to Conner so that I
can manage a knife and fork and I do my best to participate, chatting with the guests closest to use, but
as I glance at Cora and find her eyes already on me, I know we’re untied in our thought: that the real
challenge is going to come after dinner, at the after party.
When we finish our desert and the dinner breaks up, I get to my feet feeling newly steeled for the
evening ahead.
“You all right?” Sinclair asks as he stands next to me. I can tell immediately that it’s less a question of
whether I’m handling this well, but instead if I feel prepared for what’s coming next.
“I’m perfect,” I assure him, giving him a bright smile as Conner brings me Rafe, who is awake now and
looking around the room curiously.
“All right, trouble,” Sinclair murmurs, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead.
“Let’s go get this done.”
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