Sinclair
I think my wolf is broken. Legitimately. I can’t figure out what on earth is going on with him. Last night the threat against Ella made my heart practically leap out of my chest, but that’s to be expected. What was not to be expected was how upset my wolf became when he realized that Ella had washed my scent off. Despite what I told her, it had nothing to do with protecting our cover, and everything to do with him throwing a tantrum that she was no longer scent marked.
Being naked with her was both a blessing and a curse. I could happily admire her beautiful body all day long, but the intimate physical contact got me more than a little excited. My balls were so blue by the time my wolf was satisfied that the only way I could calm down was by listening to the baby’s heartbeat. It was an important reminder to be gentle with Ella, and gave me more joy than I can express.
My mental link with the pup is a fleeting thing, and most of the time all I can hear are blips of emotion. The baby is happy when it hears Ella’s voice or smells me, it likes it best when we’re together, and more often than not it simply sleeps. Still, merely being near it has given me new appreciation for my own father. I never knew it was possible to love someone I’ve yet to even meet so much, and the power of the bond astonishes me. Moreover, I want Dad to meet Ella – he’s had a rough few years, and I can’t think of anything that would make him happier than meeting the woman carrying his first grandchild.
Ella looks nervous as the car moves along through the heavy mid-day traffic. I haven’t told her who I’m taking her to meet yet and I’m getting the impression she doesn’t like surprises. She’s a fascinating puzzle, this little human. Clearly accustomed to great hardship and yet obviously used to getting her own way. I suppose after such a turbulent life, control is a crutch for her, so much so that she panics when it slips out of her fingers. Is it terrible that I enjoy throwing her off balance so much, knowing what I do about her past? She’s just so cute when she gets all riled up – I can’t help myself.
When the car finally pulls to a stop, Ella blinks up at me hopefully. “Will you tell me now?”
“Come on, trouble.” I chuckle, sliding out of the car and extending my hand to help her do the same, “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Ella grumbles mutinously under her breath as she sets off down the street, and I catch her waist, pulling her under my arm. “Would you like to say that a bit louder?” I intone ominously.
“No.” She responds tartly. “I would not.”
“You know I have supernatural hearing, right?” I question, watching her eyes widen anxiously.
She processes this for a moment, then narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Could you really hear me?”
“Not this time.” I admit, “you did a good job mumbling.”
“Then I’ll do a good job in the future too.” Ella decides, nodding in approval of her decision.
I’m reluctant to laugh and encourage her defiance, but I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from quirking up. I steer her into the house, pushing through the heavy door without pausing to knock. As we stride inside the familiar space, I’m transported back to my childhood, remembering walking these same halls as a young boy. It’s not as luxurious as my current estate, but it’s undeniably the place I consider home.
“Whose house is this?” Ella asked, surveying the comfortable rooms curiously.
“Actually, this is the house where I grew up.” I finally share, nodding towards the photos on the wall.
Ella is so preoccupied studying the images that she doesn’t seem to notice my father wheeling into the hall, seated comfortably but permanently in a high-tech wheelchair. Either Ella really is interested in the images before her, or human hearing is even worse than I realize, because she doesn’t turn around until I speak.
“Dad this is Ella.” I nudge her forward so they can meet, “Ella, this is my father.”
Ella blinks, seeming unable to find the words to reply. This was clearly the last thing she expected. My father was once a terrifying man – every bit as tall and imposing as I am myself. Now however, he’s a shadow of the man he used to be. He was paralyzed from the waist down more than five years ago now, and even though the injury stole his title, vitality and mobility, he’s never let it dampen his spirit. In intelligence and will he’s as strong as he’s always been, and I still learn from him every time we talk.
“I hoped he would bring you to meet me soon.” Dad tells Ella. “I’m so thrilled that you found each other. I’ve been waiting for a grandchild for some time now.”
“It’s an honor to meet you.” Ella replies, “I’m happy too, I think we’ve all been waiting.”
“You can say that again.” I chime in.
“Please, come in, I want to hear everything about my new daughter-in-law.” Dad encourages, wheeling into the living room. Ella, however, is frozen in place. At first I thought his allusion to our fake union might have blindsided her, but the more I watch, the more I suspect she’s more daunted by the prospect of sharing her story with him. Even though I know all the major moments in her life from my investigators, I realize Ella has never spoken about them herself. The more I think about it, the more I appreciate how little she speaks about her past at all.
I’m almost disappointed in my own powers of observation. She’s so charming and affectionate it’s easy to mistake her genial qualities for openness – but she isn’t open, not really.
Ella actually sighs with relief when her phone begins to ring, though she looks up to me for permission before actually answering it. “It’s okay, go ahead.” I permit, “I need to have a word with my Dad anyway.”
She nods appreciatively and raises the device to her ear, “Cora?”
I can hear the other woman’s voice on the other end of the line, and stride after my father to avoid eavesdropping. I really did want to introduce Ella to Dad – to connect these new members of my family with the man who raised me – but I also need to speak to my father after what happened last night.
“Ella’s taking a call from her sister.” I explain when I enter the room alone, taking a seat across from him. “And as eager as I am to catch up with you, I need to speak about something and I don’t want her to overhear.”
My father was Alpha for almost 20 years before the attack, and he understands the need for discretion and secrecy better than anyone. No one understands the drive to protect your loved ones from unseen threats better than a pack leader. “Go ahead.”
“We went to a campaign event last night at the King’s palace – it was Ella’s public debut.” I recount, “But when we came home there was a strange wolf in her room. They were gone by the time I reached her and I said it was just her imagination, but I’m afraid whoever was there wanted to hurt her.”
“She has no idea?” My father clarifies.
“I didn’t want to frighten her more than she already was. The baby is still so little – she doesn’t need the stress.” I share, even as a stab of guilt assails me. “Do you think the King or the Prince might have been behind it?”
“You know as well as I do that the King will go to any lengths necessary to hold onto his power.” My father rumbles, nodding to his mangled legs.
We’ve never been able to prove it, but the timing of my father’s injury was always beyond suspicious. Rogues beset him after an event during his own campaign to be king five years ago, after the last king died without ever producing an heir. His primary competitor became king, and probably expected to rule for far longer than he actually has. I consider it karma, if you have to sabotage your competition to seize power, it shouldn’t be any surprise when the alpha council loses faith in you afterwards.
“The King and Prince never paid any attention to me before though,” I remind him, “do you think my perceived sterility really kept them at bay? Is having a pup on the way really all it took for them to finally see me as a threat?”
“You know the history as well as I do,” My father murmurs, “They never believed the Alpha council would elect another ruler without heirs, even if you were the most qualified candidate for the job. Ella changes everything. Your pup changes everything.”
“Then why not attack me?” I growl, hating the idea that finally getting a family of my own could also bring about the end of my career. “Why target Ella?”
My father rolls his eyes then. “Come on, Dominic. Whether they admit it or not, you’re the strongest Alpha to enter the field of competition in half a century – stronger even than me.” He concedes with a smile. “Going after you would be suicidal – but a breeding she-wolf? She’s the perfect target.” He shakes his head. “And if you don’t have heirs, you might as well give up the throne now.”
“That isn’t fair.” I snarl. “Ella is innocent in all this – and the pup…” I trail off, unable to comprehend the idea of anyone hurting an unborn child.
“I know.” My father sighs, “But this cannot be ignored. If we’re right, Ella and the pup are in grave danger.”
