Where is Sinclair? I nervously scanned the room. He promised he wouldn't leave my side. Why did I ever let myself get separated from him? The crowd bombarded me with questions, and though I tried to maintain a composed front, I felt overwhelmed. My pulse raced, and my ears rang. I wasn't ready for this. I'd only had two days to prepare; surely they would see through my act.

I grew increasingly lightheaded, and my stomach churned. I felt nauseous, unsure if it was morning sickness or nerves. While excited about the baby's presence, this was the last place I wanted to be sick.

I turned, searching for a restroom. I couldn't ask the aristocrats around me; mentioning such a private matter would be incredibly inappropriate. Before I could plan an escape, I saw Sinclair striding through the crowd, his brow furrowed as he watched me.

The people around me parted as he reached me, and my nausea and nervousness subsided as I breathed in his scent and felt his warmth. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern, brushing my hair from my face.

Though I felt better, I was still overwhelmed. My lip trembled, and I wondered if my stress might bring tears, or if it was just pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to show weakness to Sinclair; I didn't want him to think I couldn't handle this role. I had to prove myself not only to these strangers but to the father of my child. I plastered on a wide smile. "I'm fine."

He narrowed his eyes, moving closer and leaning down. "Are you being honest, sweet Ella?" I bristled. Who was he to demand honesty about my feelings? If I didn't want to discuss them, that was my choice. I was about to tell him this when his low growl vibrated through me, and the words spilled out unwillingly. "It's just a bit of morning sickness," I whispered. "I think the crowd overheated me."

"And?" he pressed, sensing there was more.

I disliked how easily he read me. This either meant I was failing my act, or his connection to our baby gave him an unfair advantage in sensing my emotions. I wasn't sure which possibility frightened me more. Still, I couldn't stop myself from speaking, though I avoided his eyes. "I got nervous," I admitted, flushing. "You promised you wouldn't leave my side," I added petulantly, glaring up at him.

Sinclair's demanding growl softened to a purr. He pulled me to his chest, stroking my spine. "Poor little mate," he murmured, likely for the benefit of those around us. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you."

I heard the crowd oohing and aahing at the display of an Alpha caring for his mate. Was that why he was doing this? Did he actually care, or was he just putting on a show? It must be the latter; otherwise, he wouldn't call me his mate.

"How sweet," I recognized the voice immediately. It was the man who had questioned me earlier. "Breeding women can be so needy, can't they, Alpha Dominic?"

A growl rose in my defense, but surprisingly, it came from me! I don't think I've ever growled before. Was it the baby's influence? Sinclair probably thought it was part of my act, but I hadn't intended it.

The crowd chuckled, though I didn't understand why. I felt completely serious, but I heard murmurs about my cuteness. The other man blinked, looking to Sinclair as if expecting him to chastise me. "My apologies, Your Highness," Sinclair said simply. "She's a fierce little thing, even at her best." The words sounded like an excuse, but his tone was full of praise, and his arms tightened affectionately around me.

Too late, his address registered: Your Highness. This was the prince, Sinclair's main opponent in the election. No wonder I found him imposing, or why he resembled the King so much.

"Well, what more could we want in a Luna?" the prince remarked, sounding insincere. "In fact, your loving display has inspired me! How about a game to celebrate your new family?"

"What kind of game?" Sinclair's muscles tensed, but his reply suggested refusal wasn't an option. The evening's purpose was to present our relationship to the Alpha council. They needed to believe we were madly in love and overjoyed about our family. We were being tested, and backing down would be a mistake.

"My own version of the newlywed game," the prince grinned slyly. "To test the mating bond."

I panicked. We didn't have a mating bond; how could they test it? We were sure to fail, immediately! I looked to Sinclair for guidance, but he smiled at the prince, calling his bluff. "As you wish."

The prince guided us to the dais before the king and queen, placing me on one side and Sinclair on the other. "The object is simple," the prince announced, raising his voice. "Ella and Dominic will communicate through their bond, then write down what the other expressed without speaking. If their responses match, we'll know they're a strong couple."

The implications were clear: if our responses didn't match, we'd appear weak and disconnected—not the united Alpha and Luna we should be. Oh god, we're going to fail! Sinclair's bond with the baby was strong, but their mental link depended on him touching me. I could hear Sinclair's voice when I was unconscious in his arms, and he could hear the baby's cravings when his hand was on my belly. Otherwise, it hadn't happened.

I looked to Sinclair, but he seemed unconcerned. He was good at hiding his emotions. His face was a mask, and as our eyes met, I tried to listen, praying his bond with the baby would spark, even at this distance.

After a moment, I realized it was useless. I had no idea what he was communicating, so I did the only thing I could think of. I crossed the dais and threw myself into his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

Sinclair purred, securing me with one arm and cupping the back of my head with the other, deepening the kiss. I initiated it, but he took charge, eliciting whimpers as his tongue teased my lips and then explored my mouth. Fireworks exploded behind my eyes, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.