#Chapter 447- Reception Ella
Cora and Roger’s reception goes late into the night, which is just fine by me because for the first time this week? Sinclair and I haven’t been the focus of the attention, and we just get to party.
I mean, that’s not completely true. We’re still the King and the Queen of our nation and we can’t ignore our duties entirely. But it’s much, much easier when Cora and Roger are the ones who work their way around the room, greeting all of their guests and thanking them for their attendance.
I smile as I sip at my soda during a break in the dancing, watching as Roger holds Cora close to his side as they chat to some people I don’t know old friends of Cora’s from med school, I think.
“He hasn’t kept his hands off her all night,” Sinclair says, laughing a little. I grin up at him. “Look who’s talking,” I say, glancing down at his own arm wrapped firmly around me.
“What can I say,” he murmurs, grinning down at me. “You’re very touchable.”
Rafe, resting sleepily against my chest, gives a little squeak that makes us laugh.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Sinclair says, lowering his head to kiss Rafe’s soft hair. “You’re very cute too, I haven’t forgotten.”
Rafe grumbles a little but relaxes, his eyes drifting closed against me.
“I don’t think he’s going to make it much longer,” I say with a sigh, considering my little baby. “Do you think the party will miss me too much if I bow out early?”
“The party will miss its most beautiful guest, surely,” Sinclair says, and I roll my eyes a little at his flattery, “but I’m sure everyone will forgive. And Cora will be jealous.”
“Nah,” I say, eyeing my sister across the room. She hasn’t stopped smiling since we walked down the aisle. “She’s having a good time – like I knew she would. Cora always thinks she doesn’t want a fuss until she gets it, and then she’s pleased.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” Sinclair says. We relax for a moment, me considering my escape, but then I feel Sinclair go stiff beside me.
“What is it?” I ask, peering up at him.
“Nothing new,” he murmurs, his eyes on the far side of the room. “Just…
Atalaxians.”
“Oh,” I say, my heart falling a bit. I saw Calvin for a moment earlier in the day when he came to say hello and to congratulate Cora, but he’s the only Atalaxian that I can even begin to say I like. The others?
Well, they’re here, as all of the delegations from foreign nations were invited to the ceremony and the reception in full. But earlier, when I saw that my uncle actually had the gall to show up? I was completely shocked.
“Is he still there?” I ask, trying to stand on my tiptoes to see, but I’m too short.
“He is indeed,” Sinclair murmurs, clearly as unhappy about it as I am. Xander hasn’t tried to talk to us tonight hasn’t even attempted to give his congratulations – which is fine by me. Still, I think both of us will be much happier when he’s gone.
Sinclair frowns a little, keeping his eyes focused on the group of foreigners across the room, and I feel a little worry twisting inside me. I glance at my mate, wondering if it’s coming from him, or if I’m intuiting it myself.
But suddenly, a great deal of shouting breaks out from that corner of the room and my stomach drops.
Sinclair is instantly in motion, grabbing my hand and striding across the room. I hurry my pace to keep up with his long strides, almost running, and Rafe wakes up against me with an upset little squeal. I send calm thoughts down the bond to him to let him know that all is well, and he quiets, but I think he can still sense my agitation because he’s awake now and fussing against me.
“What is this,” Sinclair demands, his voice loud as he steps into the middle of a large group of people. My mate keeps his hand around mine though I stand a little back from him, letting him take charge.
But I immediately see the problem, and I am not at all surprised that my uncle is at the center of it.
My eyes dart around at the people several Atalaxian men, looking chic if rigid in their tuxedos, bristle as they frown at a human woman with her twin daughters pressed tight against her side. The woman looks worriedly around at all of the foreign men.
“I – I’m sorry,” she says, her voice clearly upset and confused. “We – the girls were hoping to have more of the candy,” she says, looking up at Sinclair and trying to explain, clearly thinking herself in trouble. She gestures towards the little individually wrapped bars of peppermint bark – Cora’s favorite -that we left at each guest’s seat as part of their party favors.
“I noticed that…this table hadn’t eaten theirs,” she continues, her voice tight, “and the girls, they just asked…”
“How dare you,” my uncle growls, looking down at the woman and her children with clear disdain, “even speak to me, let alone beg of me a favor
My mouth drops open completely in my shock at this horrible man. Seriously? He views human women as so far below him that he flips out when they speak to him?
“Enough,” Sinclair cuts in, his voice a hot knife through the tension. The Atalaxians, who originally lined themselves behind Xander, note that my mate is clearly supporting our guest and then fall back a step, hesitating in the face of the opposition.
“I made it clear,” Sinclair says, focusing his eyes now on my uncle, ” that your ridiculous politics have no place in my court. I have no control over how you treat people in your new home in Atalaxia, but here? You will respect my guests, no matter their gender or their shifter status.” He takes a step forward, squeezing my hand once before dropping it to truly loom over my uncle. “Now. Is there any final confusion on that point?”
I quickly step to the woman, who I unfortunately don’t know, and slip an arm around her shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, shaking my head, hopefully letting her know with the earnestness on my face that this was a complete mistake. “Please,” I say, turning her away and smiling down at her daughters. “You did nothing wrong come with me, we’ll get you as much chocolate as you can carry -”
But before we can fully turn away, a snarl rips from my uncle, making us all turn and freeze as he hunches before Sinclair, clearly on the edge of transforming into his wolf.
“I will not be cowed,” Xander growls, ” 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 says, allowing his own ferocity rise to the surface as he steps closer to this smaller, older man this wolf he could end in a second, were it his choice. ”
I’ve taken out stronger men than you. And I won’t let you again question my choices, or my mate.”
Xander snarls up at Sinclair, clearly wanting a fight, but the wolf in him knows that he’s already been beat. Despite himself, the old man takes a step back, his shoulders hunching instinctually under the force of Sinclair’s stare.
“This is my kingdom now,” Sinclair says, his voice soft and deadly. “And you and your kind? By which I mean prejudiced old bigots? You are the ones who are not welcome.”
He takes a moment, then to stare hatefully into Xander’s eyes before lifting his gaze to the rest of the Atalaxian delegation, letting them know that the message counts for them as well if they take Xander’s side.
Only Calvin has the grace to hang his head in shame. The rest, I can tell, are still making up their minds as to their next move.
