Chapter 164 – Sinclair’s Decision

Ella

Returning from the refugee camps, I was on cloud nine. My wolf practically crowed, reveling in her success supporting our mate during his darkest, most stubborn moments. Even my sister’s troubles with Roger couldn’t dampen my spirits.

I showered quickly before dinner, my mind buzzing with ideas to surprise Sinclair. He’d been carrying a heavy burden alone, and I longed to be there for him. I planned to sneak away while he worked, tasking servants with gathering romantic items: massage oils to soothe his tense muscles; chocolates and candies to indulge his sweet tooth—perhaps even spread on my body for him to enjoy; candles and rose petals to set the mood; and some sexy maternity lingerie to tempt him.

My excitement was evident as I grinned, exiting the bathroom, still drying my hair. That grin vanished when I saw him waiting at the bed's edge, watching me with a somber expression. Instantly, I knew something was wrong, a stark contrast to our wonderful day.

"Sit down, trouble," Sinclair instructed gently, patting the bed beside him.

My anxiety surged. I could count on one hand the times my mate had been in our bed without touching me. Gingerly, I crossed the room, cradling my pregnant belly, and sat beside him. He sensed my unease, but instead of comforting me, I felt only regret pulsing through our bond. "What is it?"

Sinclair gazed down at me with grim determination. "I've thought long and hard about this, Ella. I've tried to be objective, to avoid letting my desires influence me, and I've decided that when I leave on my diplomatic mission… I can't, in good conscience, take you with me."

My heart sank; my wolf whimpered pitifully in my head. "Why not? You promised you'd think about it."

"I have, baby," Sinclair insisted. "And it wasn't easy. But I'd rather trust you with the devil I know than one I don't. I know the security risks here, the guard, the contingencies, and Gabriel. I can't say the same for any of the places I'm going. I tried to find a way to bring you, but ultimately, I can't trust unknown wolves with your safety. I believe the Royal Palace is the safest place in Vanara, whether I'm here or not."

"But if I came, I wouldn't just be in the background," I argued, pulling my legs onto the bed and turning to him. "Think how much I benefited the campaign. If you need to schmooze and charm the Alphas, I can help!"

"I know," Sinclair confirmed. "I considered that, but I'm not sure the advantage you'd provide outweighs the risk."

"You mean I could help, but not enough to matter?" I asked, my heart plummeting.

"That's not what I mean," Sinclair corrected immediately. "I'd rather try my best and fail than for both of us to try and lose you or Rafe."

"But what about a third possibility?" I pressed. "Where you take me, we win them over, and no one gets hurt?"

Sinclair's mouth curved into a smile, his eyes crinkling with affection. "It's still not worth risking the second option, little one."

My lower lip quivered; I heard his wolf whine, agitated by my impending tears. "So you'd rather lose the war than let me take even a fraction of the risks you are?"

"Ella," Sinclair murmured, sliding his hand around my nape. "I believe I can build the alliances we need, whether you're with me or not—not because I don't appreciate your value, but because I'm determined to succeed no matter what. I have no intention of losing the war, and I know you don't need to be protected and spoiled, but I care too much to do otherwise. So please, let me do this."

"But we're supposed to be a team," I insisted, staring at my lap.

"We are a team," Sinclair affirmed emphatically. "But teams need players in different positions. I'm helping the team by meeting the Alphas; you'll help by assisting Gabriel with the refugees and Hugo with developments back home—planning countermoves when I'm unreachable. Not to mention raising our pup, ensuring an heir when it's time to take the throne."

My thoughts raced. Until now, Sinclair hadn't mentioned my role as his official Luna, but we'd had little opportunity to discuss it since my wolf awakened. "You mean, you'll let me help strategize? Attend policy and war-making meetings?" I asked, astonished.

Sinclair blinked incredulously. "Of course. You don't think I'd waste that brain of yours, do you?"

"But you've been so concerned with shielding me from stress," I replied, trying to understand.

"I'm learning, trouble," he chuckled. "It took a while, but I've realized keeping you out of the loop only makes you more anxious. Besides, your wolf is awake now, and though I might struggle to share my worries, I know you're capable of handling this role."

I was touched and proud of his faith in me, but a problem remained. "But being a Luna means caring for you, too," I said sadly. "I can't do that if you're thousands of miles away."

"We'll be in constant contact, Ella," Sinclair promised. "I'll call every night and morning, and we can always meet in our dreams."

For a moment, I felt reassured. Maybe he was right. Maybe dividing and conquering was smarter… but my wolf interjected; this wasn't about that. He wasn't suggesting separation to tackle different problems; he was doing it because he thought we were too weak and vulnerable to withstand the risks he'd face alone.

Her words echoing, I stood, shaking my head. "Dominic, I know I'm new to this and not as strong as you, but I'll never grow into my power if you don't let me try. If you keep me in a bubble, I'll remain weak and dependent." Cora's words from our fight echoed; though I didn't regret protecting my sister, I understood her point about constant sheltering.

"You aren't weak, Ella," Sinclair corrected sternly. "And you're the least codependent person I know."

"But I depend on others for protection," I argued. "On you and my guards—until I learn to stand on my own two feet."

"Then maybe being apart will be good for you," Sinclair countered slyly, missing the point. "You can spread your wings without me hovering."

"That's not what I mean. You might be leaving, but you're still sheltering me, shielding me, coddling me," I insisted. "You're keeping me safe, ensuring I don't have to fight or take risks." Sinclair stood, crossing his arms. "Well, Goddess forbid I should want to keep my breeding mate safe after everything we've been through," he growled sarcastically. "I promised to take care of you, to ensure you never suffer poverty, abuse, or neglect again."

"I know," I sighed, "and I love you for wanting to give me only good things… but that's not our reality anymore, Dom. We're exiles, and we're about to go to war. I can't, in good conscience, sit idly by while everyone risks their lives for me. I want to help; I want to prove myself worthy as your Luna."

"You've already proven yourself worthy a hundred times over, little wolf," Sinclair assured me, closing the distance. "And I'm sorry I can't take you, but I promise it's for the best."

My wolf grew increasingly frustrated and angry. "I may have proven myself to you, mate," I snapped, "but I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about proving it to myself! I want to do this, and I want to be there for you—and the fact is, you could take me if you chose; you're just not willing."

Sinclair clenched his jaw. "I'm not going to apologize for protecting you, Ella. And you can be mad, but I won't change my mind."

"Except for our early days, I've always felt you were in my corner, supporting my goals, whether they aligned with yours or not. This is probably the first real test, so I guess that was wishful thinking," I shrugged, fighting back tears. "And I've been wrong before, but I can't remember being so fucking disappointed." I turned and stalked from the room, leaving my mate without a backward glance.