Ella
“I’m very worried about this, Ella.” The doctor pronounces grimly. He’s just taken my blood pressure,
and it’s the same high reading we recorded this morning with the home kit. “I know you’re in the middle
of a campaign and you’re going through a lot, but you’ve got to find a way to de-stress. If you don’t,
we’ll have to put you on bed rest.”
“Bed rest?” I repeat anxiously. “For how long?”
The doctor’s grave face speaks volume, “the duration of your pregnancy.”
Sinclair stiffens beside me, moving the hand at my nape to massage my tense shoulder muscles.
“What can we do, other than avoiding high pressure situations?”
“I’m going to prescribe you some medicine that will be safe for you and the baby. Be sure to take it
every day, and otherwise just keep up the things we’ve already talked about – healthy eating, regular
exercise, activities you find calming or relaxing.” The doctor continues, listing off suggestions. “You can
try meditation or breathing exercises, pregnancy yoga is getting very popular. Sticking to a daily routine
can really help when things are uncertain and you’re going through all these changes. And Alpha, help
her however you can.”
“The instructor at our parenting class advised us not to coddle our mates– is that still good advice given
Ella’s risk level?” Sinclair inquires.
“Yes.” The doctor agrees, smashing the small surge of hope I’d felt to pieces. “Human or wolf, your
mate needs to feel like you’re in control, especially in cases like this where so much is out of your
hands. She needs you to ground her if she starts to spiral – to show her she can rely on you no matter
what.”
I can’t see the logic underpinning his words, but I still don’t like it. What’s so wrong with a bit of
coddling? I’ve never been coddled in my entire life. As if he can read my thoughts, Sinclair’s warm
breath flutters over my neck, “Just remember how much you hated it when I kept you out of the loop,
trying to protect you.”
Oh. I guess I have been coddled after all. I’m about to acknowledge this, but when I look up at Sinclair,
he’s smiling at me so affectionately that my heart stops beating.“Besides,” He continues indulgently.
“Just because I don’t coddle you, doesn’t mean I can’t pamper you the way you deserve.”
I find myself giggling like a schoolgirl, and the doctor steps out, clearly feeling as though he’s intruding
on something even though we’re only talking. When we get home, Sinclair tucks me in for a nap and
returns to work, making me promise to call on the servants if I need anything and vowing to be home
as early as he can.
I sleep fitfully. Even exhausted as I am, I find it very difficult to sleep without Sinclair. I swear he’s
becoming like my security blanket – my body won’t relax fully unless he’s with me and my nightmares
always surge in his absence. I’m getting too attached to him. I think sadly, climbing out of bed after half
an hour of tossing and turning.
So? The little voice in my head challenges. He’s the baby’s father – he’s going to be in your life forever.
Why not get attached?
Because he won’t always be in my life in this way. He’s not going to be sleeping with me when he finds
his second chance mate – and I have to be able to survive on my own. I can’t become so codependent
that I need him to take care of me. I answer ruefully.
Maybe he won’t find his mate at all. The voice suggests, sounding much too hopeful for my liking.
I scoff at my own naivete, get it together, Ella! You can’t start thinking that way – it’s just asking for
heartbreak.
I’ve only just opened the door to go downstairs and find an afternoon snack when one of the guards
appears at the top of the stairwell. “Luna, there’s a visitor for you.”
“Really?” I stop in my tracks. “Who is it? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“She says you used to work for her.” He shrugs. “I tried to get her name but she wouldn’t tell me.
Should I make her leave?”
I pause, knowing Sinclair wouldn’t like the idea of an unidentified woman entering his home. I don’t like
the idea myself – especially after Roger’s warning. “What does she look like?”
“Tall, dark hair, tan skin – maybe 40?” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “She’s human.”
My stomach sinks, it does sound like a former employer and if she’s human then it’s probably true. In
fact, she sounds like the heartless woman who fired me so callously after I tried to beg Sinclair for
Cora’s job. “No, let her in. I’ll speak to her.”
Be nice, I instruct myself sternly. Maybe she came to apologize, don’t be rude just because you’re
feelings were hurt.
When I get downstairs, Jake and Millie’s mother is gazing around Sinclair’s sitting room, a hungry gaze
on her face. She looks me up and down as I enter, something distinctly spiteful in her open perusal.
She speaks before I can say a word of welcome. “Well, you’ve certainly come up in the world, Ella.
Lord only knows what you had to do to wiggle your way into Dominic Sinclair’s bed.”
“What are you doing here?” I inquire, no longer feeling any need to play nice. She clearly set the tone
of this conversation and though I’m sorely tempted to kick her out now, I need to find out what she
wants first.
“Well when I saw your picture plastered across the society section of the paper I could scarcely believe
it. I had to come and find out if the rumors were true.” She explains simply.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, the media firestorm my relationship with Sinclair created clearly didn’t
stop with the shifter news. Everyone in the human world thought Sinclair was just a handsome
billionaire, and he was still a public figure for all his philanthropic work. I should have realized this might
happen – my social circle had been very small before discovering the werewolf world and most of the
people from my past wouldn’t have any reason to be suspicious of my relationship with Sinclair. This
woman, however, knows exactly how at odds I was with my pup’s father in the beginning.
“Well now that you’ve seen that they were true, you can be leaving.” I suggest, knowing there must be
more to this.
“Oh no, I think you and I have much to discuss, Ella.” Her eyes are locked on the curve of my belly. “It’s
no wonder you were begging outside his gate that day. No doubt trying to get a bit of money out of him
to take care of your little problem?”
“My baby isn’t a problem.” I insist. “And I didn’t even know I was pregnant then. I was asking for help on
behalf of my sister – she was going to lose her job over a misunderstanding, ironically enough.”
My ex-employer studies me for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not she believes. After a
pregnant pause, she snorts. “So what, you thought because you spread your legs for him he would fall
at your feet?” She guesses, drawing the wrong conclusion. Shaking her head, she arches a brow.
“Though I have to give you credit for not giving up when you realized he’d knocked you up. Very
enterprising – for a common whore.”
My jaw drops, “Excuse me?”
“I always knew there was something off about you. It never made sense why you wanted to chase after
my brats all day anyway. Now I see the brilliance of your plan.” She nods at my small baby bump. “You
were probably selling yourself all over that neighborhood, just waiting for exactly this sort of ‘accident.”’
“Are you suggesting…” I can’t even say the words, unable to believe my ears.
“How much did you charge him anyway?” She questions, venom dripping from her tongue. “I suppose
being so beautiful meant you were able to attract clients far above your station, still, it seems
backwards that he should be the one to pay for a night with you. And now you’ve won the lottery by
conceiving his bastard.”
I’m not sure what upsets me more, hearing her call my pup names, or her accusations about me
charging Sinclair for sex. “You come here and insult my baby, then accuse me of being a prostitute, and
you think I’m just going to sit here and take it?” I demand fiercely. “You’re not just cruel – you’re
delusional. Get out of my house this instant.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She hisses in return. “Not without a check.”
The room is spinning around me, “You expect me to pay you? Why, to keep you from spreading these
lies?”
“I think the tabloids would be very interested in what I could tell them about you.” She smirks. “They’re
painting you two as some sort of fairytale romance – just imagine the headlines if they realized you’re
nothing but a disgraced nanny who couldn’t even hold onto her job because she was too busy whoring
around for wealthy men.”
I grit my teeth, trying to slow my racing thoughts enough to process this. I don’t particularly care what
the human papers say about me, and I have enough good references from past jobs to refute what
she’s saying. But that isn’t the problem. The real problem is that if the shifter media learns I was here in
Moon Valley, working as a nanny for a human family in Sinclair’s neighborhood and not off in the
bloodbane pack, they’ll figure out I’m human. If the truth comes out about my real identity, all our lies
will be exposed, and the Campaign will be over faster than we can blink. The Prince will win, and the
entire realm will be in danger – not to mention that my baby’s life will practically be forfeit.
I have to talk to Sinclair, I have to find a way to stop her.
“Give me twenty four hours.”
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