Ella
When we arrive at the edge of the forest where the ceremony is set to begin, I’m wearing a shimmering
pearl-colored dress, which looks as if it’s been spun from pure moonlight. Its straps are so thin it
doesn’t seem like they should be strong enough to hold up the flowing fabric, which plunges between
my breasts, hugs my waist and then cascades out into a wide skirt with a graceful train. It’s completely
inappropriate for the cold weather, but a cape of plush black furs billows down my back and Sinclair’s
cozy heat is warming my left side. My shoulders are heavy with the weight of his arm, and I feel
thankful the rough forest terrain made wearing high heels impossible.
We move through the crowds of reporters and admirers, pausing for photos and handshakes but not
answering any questions. The press coverage from the moon bathing ritual was truly phenomenal,
almost fawning in its analysis, and the crowds are getting bigger every day. Everyone seems to want to
glimpse us for themselves, and I’m beginning to feel more like a museum attraction than a person.
It’s hard to keep myself grounded when everyone around me is staring, jumping up and down yelling
my name. This is business as usual for Sinclair, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. I also don’t know
if I want my child subjected to all this attention. “It won’t always be like this, right?” I ask, cradling my
tiny baby bump as we move past the crowds. “Surely it’s just the festival and how new our relationship
is.”
“Things will calm down.” Sinclair agrees, his keen eyes not missing the way I try to shield our pup with
my hands. “They’ll be excited about the baby too, but they’ll keep their distance. They know how
protective new parents are, and as invasive as we can be about adult relationships, children are
considered off limits.”
“Good.” I breathe, still frowning. “I don’t like it, but I’ll endure it as long as they leave the baby alone.”
“After the campaign is over we can pull you out of the spotlight.” Sinclair offers, “you’ll be a new mother,
it would be perfectly reasonable for your public presence to be diminished.” Just then the wind shifts,
and Sinclair scents the air, his muscles suddenly going very tense.
Right on cue, a snide voice sounds on our left, and a figure in white emerges from behind a tree. “What
kind of Luna looks for excuses to get out of doing her job?” I don’t need to look to recognize the
speaker – her tone is completely altered from when she helped me in the bathroom, but there’s no
mistaking the nasal timbre of Lydia’s voice.
Before I can even begin to process her words or get a good look at her, Sinclair pushes my body
behind his, taking up a defensive stance between me and his ex-wife. “Are you really so desperate to
force yourself in where you’re not wanted, that you’ve been reduced to skulking around like a fox,
Lydia?” A murmur moves through the gathered shifters, and I suspect calling a wolf a fox is something
of an insult. Though I, as someone who has always liked foxes, can’t help but feel a bit offended on
their behalf.
“It certainly took you long enough to sense me.” She complains, sounding more than a little bitter. “Are
you really so preoccupied with your little pet that your wolf can’t keep track of his surroundings?”
I’m trying to move back around in front of Sinclair, but he holds me fast, his arm reaching behind his
body to lock me against him in an iron grip. I feel a little growl bubble up in my chest, only to be
reduced to a trembling mess when he growls back, leaving no room for argument. “I guess that goes to
show how little you mean to my wolf these days.” Sinclair counters smoothly. “He doesn’t even notice
you when you’re right in front of him.”
I’m trying to peek around Sinclair’s burly arm, but I can only catch a flash of Lydia’s outraged
expression before her venomous tongue is back at it, “Well you might not want me here, Sinclair, but as
the only she-wolf who bears your mark, it’s my right to begin the hunt with you.”
My slow brain scrambles to catch up, and I gradually understand that she’s trying to take my place in
the ceremony. She thinks that I don’t have the right to participate because Sinclair and I haven’t fully
been mated, and suddenly I feel outraged myself. How dare she try to take our place? How dare she
try to take Sinclair from us? The little voice in my head is in a full on rage, and any logic I might have
used to calm it – like the fact that Sinclair isn’t ours in the first place, so it’s impossible for him to be
taken – goes completely by the wayside.
I can’t recall ever feeling jealous or possessive about Mike. Heartbroken yes, but when I learned he
was cheating I didn’t feel envy for Kate, only sorrow for myself and all those wasted years. But I feel
jealous now. I feel a possessive fury unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Something raw and primal
is building up inside me, and I don’t know how to identify it or reign it in. Is this the pup too? Staking its
claim on its father? Or have I lost my mind?
“You’re out of your head, Lyd–”
I surge forward, slipping out of Sinclair’s grasp by ducking underneath his arms and rounding his big
body in a fit of righteous indignation. I can feel Sinclair reaching for me again, but I pull myself up to my
full height and shoot him a warning glare over my shoulder before giving Lydia the full force of my ire.
“The only mark you bear is of the wolf you tricked into marrying you after you ran out on this pack. If
you want to participate in the hunt, go home to him – or has he seen you for the snake you are and
kicked you out?”
Lydia’s eyes flash, and I wonder if I’ve hit too close to home. I also wonder if her new husband might
have realized the same thing she did – that Sinclair was never sterile, so their inability to conceive was
probably a problem with her. Would an Alpha reject a mate that couldn’t give him pups? Is Lydia back
here because she has nowhere else to go?
Stop empathizing! The voice in my head admonishes angrily, You can feel bad for her later, right now
there’s a battle to win!
Who are you?! I cry in return. What battle? I’m not going to publicly humiliate a woman who’s struggling
with fertility.
Struggling with fertility doesn’t mean she isn’t a conniving bitch. The voice replies. And she’s trying to
take Sinclair. He’s mine. Ours.
Before I can reply, Lydia snarls and I have to thrust a hand into Sinclair’s chest to keep him from
throwing my body behind his once more. “Better the mark of another than no mark at all. You don’t
even know what it truly means to be a mate.” She snaps.
I press my palm to my belly again, drawing her attention to my unborn pup. “What stronger claim could
there be than this miracle? I don’t need Dominic’s mark to know I belong to him – and I’m willing to wait
for it until we can do it right, in a manner befitting a King and Queen.” I declare, notching my chin up.
Lydia’s expression flickered when I mentioned the pup, and again I felt a rush of sympathy for the other
woman, but her eyes hardened and blazed when I called myself a queen. The shifters around us are
whispering and muttering among themselves, many glaring at Lydia and grinning at me. I know I’ve
done well when Sinclair presses his body flush to mine, his hands circling my waist from behind to help
me cradle our pup. A satisfied purr rumbles in his chest as his lips move against my ear, “the baby likes
it when Mommy’s fierce.” He shares, and my heart flip flops over hearing myself called Mommy for the
first time. “And so do I.” He praises.
Feeling a rush of confidence and an inexplicable knowing that I’m close to the kill, I continue, “And we
both know that there are many more ways to claim a mate than with a bite.” I say with a sultry grin,
sliding one hand up and around the back of Sinclair’s neck, encouraging his affection. I’ve never done
anything so brazen in my life, except perhaps the other night at the bonfire… or in that damned dream.
At the same time, it feels completely right that we should be fighting this battle together, and showing
off our attraction for all to see.
Lydia takes one furious step towards me, and Sinclair emits a snarl so vicious that everyone around us
cowers, Lydia included. I’m the only one able to withstand the force of his Alpha authority, which works
well for our purposes. Since no one knows I’m human, they’ll all assume I’m truly Sinclair’s equal – in
spirit if not brute strength.
Lydia shudders and whimpers before turning tail and fleeing in the opposite direction. For some reason,
I feel the strangest urge to chase after her, but Sinclair is holding me too tightly. “Not so fast feisty
pants, we have more important things to do than chase after bitter exes.” I have to crane my neck to
look up at him, but his face is full of pride and anticipation as he announces. “It’s time.”
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