Ann couldn't stop thinking about everything that she had seen within those files, and the unease followed her down the corridor. It felt as though every page had burned itself into her mind and the fact that every path they'd followed came back to Bartholomew had devastated her.
It just didn't sit right with her. Not only had he always been like the elderly grandfather who took both her and Lexi under his wing, he had also stood beside them when they worked to clear the corruption out of the Enclave. Had he really been acting as a double agent the entire time? He had never been careless when it came to his duties before now, yet the picture now said otherwise.
The guards outside the council lounge snapped to attention as she passed them and inside, she found Bartholomew sat alone. The fire had burned low and the tea on the table looked as though it hadn't been touched. He held a book closed in his lap, though it looked like it hadn't been opened in hours.
He looked up when she closed the door, his eyes softening.
"Ah, My Queen. You look like a woman who hasn't slept."
"I haven't," Ann said, setting her notes down on the table between them.
His frown deepened, then eased into something almost paternal.
"Is it the pups? Alpha multiples rarely let their mothers rest. There are remedies and old drafts, herbs too, and breathing patterns that midwives once swore by to help. I can have the Enclave's midwives brought if you like."
Ann blinked in surprise, thrown by the sudden gentleness.
"I'll manage," she said as she pulled a chair out and sat opposite him. "But that isn't why I'm here."
Bartholomew leaned forward, his hands folding over the book.
"Then how can I be of service?" He asked, smiling gently.
Ann's fingers brushed the edge of her notes as she spoke, reminding herself of why she had come here, despite Adam warning her not to.
"How many approvals for support have you signed over the years?"
He tilted his head. "Dozens. Hundreds, perhaps. Why?"
"And restricted projects?"
Bartholomew frowned.
"Occasionally. As a prominent Elder in the Enclave my duties require it. Ann, what are you circling at?"
"Did you ever ask where any of the people involved ended up?"
He straightened, brow furrowing.
"I was told they were volunteers engaging in projects that would strengthen us. As far as I was aware supervision was in place. I trusted that the relevant policies were being followed and my part was done."
"So you believed what you were told..without question…" Ann said flatly.
Bartholomew's voice sharpened.
"I trusted the council's process as I always have. One man cannot investigate every single request for support that crosses their desk. You know this as well as I do." He studied her more closely now. "Why all of these questions all of a sudden? What exactly are you implying?"
Ann didn't answer. She let the silence press down between them.
The door opened behind her. Adam stepped in, his presence instantly filling the space. His gaze flicked from Ann's face to Bartholomew's, the tension in the room clear enough without words.
"What's happening here?" Adam asked, "I thought I told you that you weren't to be alone anywhere.".
Ann sighed as Maeve chuckled.
"Busted, Queenie."
Bartholomew exhaled.
"I'd like to know whats going on as well actually."
Ann slid the notes across the table towards Bartholomew, trying her best not to let her disgust bleed through onto her facial expression..
"Your name is everywhere in here Bartholomew. On approvals, sponsorships, blocked audits, The Alder Project and the Hemlock project too. Not once. Not twice. Repeatedly."
Bartholomew stared down at the pages as. is face drained of color. He looked up at her, genuine horror etched deep in the lines of his face
"Goddess above… you really think I was part of that?"
Ann's voice was steady.
"The files don't lie, Bartholomew."
Bartholomew rose to his feet so quickly the chair scraped back. His hand shook against the table.
"My Queen, no. I signed what was put before me because I was told it was defense. Medical and healing research that would contribute towards stability. I believed the safeguards that were already in place within the Enclave. If a project was …wrong, then it should never have gotten past the planning and approval stage.I never…" His voice cracked. "I never would have allowed what you're describing…what these files show."
Adam's eyes glowed faintly, his fury rising.
"That seems like a convenient denial."
Bartholomew's voice broke with anguish.
"Convenient? You believe I would feed our own into those horrors? That I would let children be torn apart in the name of progress? That I could live with that?" His chest heaved. "I have carried heavy burdens, but never that. Never that."
Ann's heart stuttered. The devastation in his voice wasn't performance. He looked like a man gutted, betrayed that she could even imagine it.
"Then what burden are you carrying?" she asked quietly.
Bartholomew pressed his hands against the back of the chair as if to steady himself. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, rough.
"For fifty years… we hid families. Lycan bloodlines the Lycan King had marked for death. Entire lineages would have been erased. The Enclave swore secrecy to protect them. That is the truth that you came close to finding with me…but not Alder…not Hemlock…"
Ann's breath caught in her chest.
"So, more hidden families. Not just Greyson's mother then."
"At least they are alive," Bartholomew said. "They were never stolen or coerced, they came willingly and were saved. If we had stood by and done nothing, they would be corpses rotting in the ground under the King's feet."
Adam slammed his fist onto the table, the sound sharp.
"You kept this secret?! If the Lycan King had ever discovered it, every wolf in this Kingdom would have been dragged into war decades ago."
"That was the risk," Bartholomew said, meeting his fury head-on. "The alternative was extinction of bloodlines."
"That was not your choice to make," Adam snarled, pacing, "Not alone and without discussion!"
His fingers flexed like he was restraining himself from tearing the room apart.
Bartholomew's eyes hardened as his attention fell on Adam.
"It was my burden to carry and I carried it with the others. We swore silence so that the crown itself would not be implicated to try and mitigate the risk of any retribution if the Lycan King ever found out. In return, those families pledged one Lycan per birthed generation to the armies stationed at the Enclave and around the country. Their service paid their debt. That was the bargain."
Ann pressed a hand to her temple. Generations of service, bound by oath, and hidden under layers of secrecy. If any of the population knew the extent of this, it could go terribly wrong.
Greyson had been a rarity that was accepted, but if they knew that Lycans had been living among them for years, secretly, and decided that this in itself was to blame for the Lycan King's current campaign against their kingdom, most of the werewolf population would more that likely point the blame squarely at their feet.
After a pause, Bartholomew continued with a heavy sigh.
"It wasn't only Lycans. Certain magickal families were sheltered the same way, especially after the war with the Daemon realms. Everyone feared them and were quite happy to hunt them down and enact what we called 'Vigilante Justice' against people who had nothing to do with the vile brand of magck that the Daemons wielded back then. The Enclave gave them safety and in return, they too pledged one child each generation. The same bargain."
Adam swore, pacing harder.
"Do you even fucking understand what you risked? If anyone had sniffed this out, wolves, witches, every ally tied to those lines, we'd have been obliterated before you were even finished hiding the first family. And the people, Bartholomew…you could have caused a full scale rebellion!"
Bartholomew's voice steadied again, quiet but firm.
"And yet we did not. They lived and generations survived. That was worth the risk in my opinion."
Ann's thoughts raced. Hidden Lycans. Hidden magickal bloodlines. Service pledged for survival. If the secrecy broke now, those families might not stay bound to the Enclave. They might choose differently.
"They might choose you," Maeve whispered, secretly pleased. "The Alpha Queen with claws and covens at her back. Imagine having an entire army of Lexi's. Doesn't it sound glorious?"
Ann swallowed. "And what of the orphans that are listed in some of these programmes?"
Bartholomew froze.
"You know something," Ann pressed.
He hung his head with another deep sigh.
"Most of them were mixed-blood children. The ones who showed unusual strength and unique talents in the orphanages, they were… given offers. A guaranteed job, a comfortable life, a place to lie and to belong. Narcissa oversaw it back then as well as the private instruction for the youngest. Even I was kept at a distance."
Adam's glare sharpened and she sorted derisively.
"Instruction or indoctrination? I think we all know where those poor children ended up."
Bartholomew's silence stretched too long and Ann's stomach turned. A private program with Narcissa's fingerprints all over it and if she was involved, then the truth would be uglier than they could ever possibly imagine.
"We'll dig into that," Ann said, her voice flat.
Bartholomew nodded once, weariness etched in every line of his face. "Then hopefully you'll see what I could not."
Adam rounded on him, his fury barely contained.
"You risked everything. You gambled with all our lives. And you left us ignorant while you played keeper of secrets."
Bartholomew's gaze lifted, pained but unwavering.
"I preserved lives. I live with the weight of those choices every day. Do you think I slept easily? Every night I feared discovery. But I will not call it a mistake when children grew into adults instead of corpses."
Ann stepped into the gap, her voice cutting sharp.
"Enough. We can't undo what's been done. What matters now is how we keep this from tearing us apart before the war even begins."
Adam turned to her, fury burning.
"You'd keep him at this table?"
"For now," Ann said. "If we rip this open without control, it will break us faster than the King ever could."
Bartholomew's voice was hoarse.
"Then you understand."
Ann's eyes were cold.
"I understand both sides in regards to you. Don't mistake that for trust. As for the rest of the Elders…" she let the sentence hang unfinished because she couldn't find the words to satisfactorily describe what she hoped would befall them when all of their lies and secrets were exposed.
"Enjoy your seat while you have it." Adam snarled furiously, "The day will come when even Ann won't be able to save you from me. As much as we trusted you once, this is the second betrayal that we have discovered that you did not come to us with at the beginning. If we had known we could have prepared for it."
He turned and stormed out without another word, the door slamming behind him.
Bartholomew sagged, looking every one of his years.
"He'll never forgive me."
Ann gathered her notes. Her voice was steady, but low.
"You never acted as though you needed forgiveness."
He looked at her, his grief stricken expression pulling at her as she tried to ignore it.
"I need you to understand."
But she didn't answer. She turned and left him in the lounge, along, with the cracks between the Elder's and younger wider than they had ever been.