Darkness, terror, pain—my wolf being torn away. Blinding light, loss… emptiness.
I’ve woken screaming for six days straight. It’s been a week since Leon uncovered the memory of my wolf being bound, and each night has followed the same exhausting pattern. I stay awake as long as possible, until my eyes can no longer stay open. Then, there’s no time to call my mate. The demons descend the moment I relax my defenses, and I’m helpless to stop them.
Philippe rushes in, his familiar worry etched on his face. His eyes go straight to me, bypassing a scan of the room for threats. He’s learned the greatest threats reside in my head. “Are you okay?” he asks, frowning.
I nod, sitting up and pushing the blankets away. “It’s just more of the same.”
My phone rings. I take a deep breath before answering Sinclair’s call. “Good morning, mate.”
“Good morning, trouble,” he rumbles warmly. “You missed another dream date.”
“I know,” I say regretfully. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so exhausted that I fall asleep before I can even think about dreams.” The nightmares claim me before I can hear his calls, but I’m damned if I’ll admit that to the overprotective Alpha.
Philippe scowls disapprovingly, crossing his arms in obvious admonition for my lie. I shoot him a warning glare to keep quiet, and he offers one final glower before retreating so we can finish our call in private.
“Turn on your camera, baby,” Sinclair instructs. “I want to see you.”
I comply, hoping I don’t have dark circles under my eyes. “Where are you?” I ask, leaning back against my pillows.
His handsome face appears on the screen, his deep green eyes drinking me in. Sinclair is still in bed, and I can see a hint of his bare chest at the bottom of the feed, his muscles flexing as he settles. “White Claw territory,” he answers, sounding drowsy. “This Alpha is tricky—cunning, difficult to read, and unpredictable. I’m not sure how best to approach him.”
“His past politics offer no clues?” I ask, feeling more awake than he seems. “His voting record?”
“It’s all over the board,” Sinclair explains. “He’s not one for deals or alliances. He votes based on what’s best for his pack, but his priorities are unclear.”
“You can always play the ‘Damon will set his sights on Vanara once he conquers the continent’ card, or point out the resource strain of accepting so many refugees,” I suggest, rubbing my belly. Rafe had been startled and upset by my nightmares, but hearing his father’s voice always works wonders—it calms both of us.
“Both good ideas,” Sinclair murmurs. “But I don’t really want to talk strategy right now, baby.”
“Oh? What do you want to talk about?” I inquire slyly. “Summit plans? The refugee camp? What color dress I should get for the ball?”
Sinclair chuckles. “Imp. How about we discuss why on earth you’re wearing clothes in my bed?”
“Hey, this is my nest,” I correct him saucily. “And besides, you’re not here. Just because you want me naked all the time…”
“I’d certainly like to see you naked now,” Sinclair interjects, his voice low and husky. His arm moves just out of frame, and the hungry glint in his eye tells me he’s touching himself.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” I tease, fiddling with my nightdress strap. “I seem to remember a certain bossy wolf telling me that my pleasure belongs to him, forbidding me from touching myself because it’s his responsibility as my mate.” I pull down the fabric to expose a breast, cupping it in my hand as I admire my mate. “I think if I were naked and had the sight of such a gorgeous, virile Alpha in front of me… I would be very tempted to misbehave.”
“Is that so?” Sinclair inquires darkly, his wolf eyes flashing.
I bite my lip and nod. “I can’t help myself,” I confess, revealing my other breast and shimmying out of my nightgown. I lift the phone so he can see my fingers trailing down my belly and between my legs. “It’s been so long since I felt your touch, Dominic.” My wolf has been going crazy without affection from her mate, and I wasn’t far from taking matters into my own hands. I gently circle my clitoris with my fingertips, my eyes falling closed with delight.
Sinclair growls, sending a shiver down my spine. “Naughty mate,” he croons. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to earn yourself a spanking. But I’ll forgive this much because I’m away, just as long as you don’t go any further.”
I sink my fingers into my wetness, gasping and moaning at the sensation, even as I wish it were his hands on my body, his hardness filling me. “Oh, you’re really in for it now,” Sinclair warns, all grumbly and foreboding. My pulse races as his own movements become more pronounced. He watches me like a starving man as he rubs his erection, making me feel beautiful and powerful. “What are you thinking about, trouble? Hmm, what’s got you so worked up that you’re willing to risk provoking my wolf this way?”
“You,” I confess. “I’m thinking about all the wicked things you’re going to do to me when you get back.”
“Tell me,” Sinclair orders seductively, shifting his phone so I can see below his waist.
Licking my lips, I find myself getting distracted by the heat building inside me, so much so that my mate has to call my attention back to him with a soft purr. “You’ll start slow,” I finally answer, my voice a whisper. “You’ll kiss me until my knees go weak… and then you’ll strip off my clothes and explore every inch of my body with your mouth and hands, discovering the ways my shape has changed and teasing me until I’m writhing underneath you… and then… and then, ohh…” My sheath clenches around my fingers, and my hips rock up into my hand.
I can’t continue, so my mate takes over. “And then I won’t be able to wait any longer,” Sinclair tells me sensually. “It’s been too long, and I’ll be nearly desperate to be inside you. After all, this is only the first time of many, so I won’t worry about pacing myself or letting you off easy for all your mischief while I’ve been away. I’ll drive myself into your tight little pussy in a single thrust and rut you so hard that you see stars.”
The phone shakes in my hand, and I’m fighting to smother my whimpers as I near the edge. “Don’t you dare drop that phone, little wolf,” Sinclair rumbles, sounding as if he’s barely hanging onto his control. “And don’t you dare come yet, because I’m not done telling you my plans.” I whine needily, and he only purrs with satisfaction. “Do you like being watched this way, Ella? Do you like touching yourself on camera for me?” I nod, barely containing a sob. “Please, Dominic. I’m so close.”
“Not yet, baby. I’m enjoying seeing what a dirty girl you are,” he declares.
I shake my head, unsure if I’m trying to deny his words or hold off the wave of rapture. Sinclair chuckles knowingly. “No? I’m wrong? You’re not loving putting on this show for me, little exhibitionist?”
“Only for you,” I gasp, biting my lip so hard I draw blood. “No one else.”
“Damned straight,” Sinclair replies, his voice like gravel. “Goddess, I can’t wait to be inside you again. I’ll make you beg, just like this. I’ll hold my power back from you until you’re finally gushing all over my cock, and then I’m going to give you everything I have. I’m going to—”
I can’t bear it any longer; I climax, crying out into the empty room. I catch a look of triumph from my mate, even as the sight of my defiant ecstasy sends Sinclair over the edge himself, and his lusty growls fill my ears as he finds his release. Afterward, he purrs, scolding and praising me in equal measure, and I belatedly realize he wanted me to lose control—just so he has an excuse to inflict more sensual torments later. I float in the heady afterglow, soaking up his sweet nothings and fighting to stay awake.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he encourages, seeing my valiant struggle.
“No, I wanted to talk to you about my next hypnosis session,” I say, forcing my eyes open. “It’s been a week. The doctor said I could try again after a week.”
“Ella, we decided the next session would have to wait until I’m back,” Sinclair reminds me, recalling our conversation from earlier this week.
“No, you decided,” I sigh. “We need answers, Dominic.”
“Answers that can wait until you have the support you need to uncover them,” he insists.
“I have Henry, and he might not be able to calm me the way you do, but you know it’s less painful for him than it is for you,” I argue.
“I’m not worried about my pain, I’m worried about your and Rafe’s well-being,” Sinclair states firmly.
“But the damage is already done,” I claim fiercely. “There can’t be anything worse than having my wolf taken from me.”
“We don’t know that,” Sinclair grimaces. “And I’d hate to find out the hard way.”
“Dominic, plea—”
“No, Ella,” he cuts me off, raw authority in his deep voice. “We do it together, or not at all. Is that clear?”
I swallow my protests and try to quell the rebellion churning in my blood. “Crystal.”