#Chapter 453- Press
Ella
We stayed up all night working and strategizing. A flurry of aids came into the room right away as well as several guards, who worked with Sinclair to brief him and to begin to come up with a plan about how to handle the press.
I trusted my mate to handle that, though, focusing my attention singularly on Sarah when she was wheeled into the room on a hospital gurney. Sarah was conscious, but in a great deal of pain, and Cora and I moved immediately to her side. Cora asked questions of both the attendant doctor and Sarah herself as I handed Rafe to Henry.
When Cora quickly briefed me that the wounds, as far as she could tell, were nothing that I hadn’t handled before, I nodded to her and quickly took Sarah’s hand. “I’d like to heal you, Sarah, if you’ll let me,” I said quietly, looking her in the eye.
She laughed a little, shaking her head at me. “Go ahead,” she said with an attempt at a grin that immediately fell away as she winced, favoring her side where Xander kicked her.
I exhaled sharply, hating that he put her in pain again, and that I was the cause of it. But, eager to be the solution as much as I could, I closed my eyes and concentrated, accessing my gift and healing my friend.
The work was done quickly and barely twenty minutes later I opened my eyes to see Sarah staring at me in awe. ”
That’s…incredible,” she said. “I mean, I watched you work on Jessica, but feeling it?”
“Better?” I asked, and she had just laughed, marveling a little.
Things moved quickly then, with Sinclair glancing over at me meaningfully, indicating that he had things he wanted to run my way. I nodded to him but turned first to Sarah and Jessica to ensure that they got settled. When they hesitated about going back to their rooms tonight Xander had, after all, kidnapped them from that space I insisted they take one of the personal rooms in the back of Sinclair and my personal quarters one of the rooms that we hope to one day fill with our children.
They had smiled at this idea, wanting to be close, and Cora took Jessica by the hand as Sarah lifted herself from the gurney and walked away, completely free of pain.
“Wow,” the attendant doctor had said, his eyes wide. “What did you…”
“Another time,” I had sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We should talk but…another time?”
He smiled at me, still a little shocked and awed, but he agreed and quietly left the room. I sighed then, and took the baby back from Henry before moving to Sinclair’s side, ready to face whatever was next.
We were up until about…three in the morning I guess, preparing press releases and dealing with all the details. By the end I had tucked Rafe away into his little crib and fallen into bed exhausted. I had always thought it was an exaggeration when people say they fell asleep before their head hit the pillow, but as I have absolutely no memory of laying my head down?
I guess they weren’t exaggerating after all.
I groan a little as I roll over in bed now and glance at the clock. My groan only deepens when I see that it’s only 7 am.
Four hours of sleep – that’s… Appalling.
“Morning, little Queen,” I hear my mate rumble beside me and I turn towards him with a frown on my face, noting the tablet on his lap.
“Dominic,” I murmur, working to sit up. “Did you sleep at all!?”
“A little,” he says, reaching out a hand to stroke over my hair. “I wish you’d slept more. What got you up?”
“Anxiety, I guess,” I say, moving myself closer to him and nodding towards the tablet. “What are they saying now?”
Last night, the news had gone pretty wild with everything, playing all kinds of footage from the event me racing across the flagstones in my wolf’s body, me negotiating with Xander while he pressed a knife to Jessica’s throat, me leaping through the air again in my wolf’s form with my teeth bared, me looking wide-eyed out into the crowd with blood all down my front
It had been…a frenzy, honestly, with no one really knowing what was going on or how to react. Sinclair had been right – a lot of people, particularly humans, were upset with what they called the “wanton violence” displayed by wolf kind. And while the words were levied at both Xander and at me…
Well, the sight of a newly crowned Queen covered in a man’s blood while his corpse laid at her feet? It wasn’t… great.
“I think,” Sinclair says, a smile on his lips, “you’re going to be…pleasantly surprised.” He passes the tablet to me.
“What?” I frown at him, confused, but he nods to the tablet and I look down at it.
The baby fusses a little, passing a little pulse of need down the bond and I hesitate but Sinclair gets up, heading toward Rafe’s crib and letting me focus. So, I sigh and concentrate, frowning as I read the headline at the top of the page.
A Queen for the People, it reads. My frown deepens.
What? What is this?My eyes move down a little and I blink in surprise to see that I recognize the byline: the article is written by Tempest Bowers, the woman I met last night, whose daughters just wanted some chocolate…
My mouth falls open a little as I begin to read because…
The article, as a whole, is a rather stunning defense of my actions last night. And Tempest?
She’s done her homework.
My eyes fly over the tablet, seeing all the details of my life plainly laid out for the readers, wondering how the hell Tempest figured all this out and further how she got it all done by seven in the morning. But as I continue to read, and see the number of people that she interviewed…
I realize that Tempest? She’s probably been working on this for a long time.
“Clever lady,” I murmur, shaking my head as I read through the article. She starts by addressing the violence of last night, with all of the details about Xander’s death at my hands, not shying away from any of it. Indeed, I come away in the first paragraphs looking…well, precisely as we thought humans might see me: a cold-blooded murderer, over-reacting to a situation that deserved more diplomacy.
But then Tempest continues to spin out the story, including all the details of how Xander knew I was his niece but abandoned me to be raised in an orphanage, only to find me years later and violate my body and my privacy by having me impregnated with the sperm of his choice. She continues to focus on Xander only for a few short paragraphs, detailing his politics and his forced subjection of Sarah, and Jessica, and their mother.
But then, to my surprise, the story turns again to me. It’s a love story, really, of how Sinclair and I found each other despite Xander’s plans and fell in love, how hard we worked to rid this nation of Damon – who honestly wouldn’t have been much better than Xander himself. She even tells of Xander’s attempt to kidnap Rafe, and then all the work I did in the refugee camps to help people who really need me.
There are some guesses in there, and hints, about the magic I wield, which was never precisely a secret even if it’s not common knowledge. I smirk to see how well she’s begun to guess at what, precisely, I am able to do with my powers. She doesn’t go so far as to say I’m a magical all-healing Queen, but she does detail the incredible number of people – especially children – who walked away from the refugee camps entirely healed of dreadful injuries and diseases.
In the end, Tempest returns to the question of what I did last night, and carefully asks the reader to reconsider the situation. While it may appear at first glance as if a woman brutally murdered an old man, Tempest ends by asking: “what side, really, would have your Queen take? I, for one, might prefer a fierce Queen who doesn’t wait to let bureaucracy handle serial abusers who attempt to kidnap little girls, but who instead tears their throats out and ends the issue there. Ella Sinclair isn’t a politician, she’s a woman who fights for her people, and heals them too. At least, those who deserve it.”
“Damn,” I say, lowering the tablet to my lap and looking up at Sinclair, who smirks down at me with the baby in his arms. I reach for Rafe, knowing he needs to be fed. “I mean, are people… reading this? Do they believe her?”
“Shared on social media over a million times in the hour since it’s been published,” Sinclair says, happily handing the baby to me. I smile down at Rafe, tugging up my shirt and preparing to feed him, but Sinclair places my a soft hand beneath my chin. I look up at him.
“People are seeing you, Ella, for what you truly are,” he says quietly. “I’m glad for that, and grateful. But I knew, eventually, that they would.”
I smile up at him, my eyes shining a bit with my tears. “Do you really think so?” I ask, shaking my head, marveling a bit.
Slowly, he nods, a grin taking over his face. “Thanks to Tempest Bowers, they’re seeing it faster than I thought they might.” He stands up, running a hand through his hair. “She really helped us out here, with this article.”
I laugh a little, turning my attention back to Rafe when he gives a hungry little squeak of protest. I quickly get him started, sighing a little when I feel him latch. Then, I look back up at my mate.
“Well? What do you send the woman who has single-handedly saved your reputation?” I ask, grinning at him. ” Like, a fruit basket?”
