“What do you mean, it was a memory?” Sinclair asked carefully. “I thought the priests came to you at the orphanage? I don’t remember anything about humans attacking you in the woods.”

I stared at my lap, cradling my belly, trying to figure out how to explain my deceit. I knew this conversation was inevitable—I even prepared for it—but these weren't the circumstances I expected. I hadn’t imagined I would be so emotionally fragile, or that Sinclair would be holding me close, purring, fresh off rescuing me from a traumatic nightmare. I thought I would be able to present my case and apologize, acknowledging my wrongdoing with confidence and strength of conviction.

Now I feared it would tumble out as a mess of excuses and tangled feelings.

“Ella?” Sinclair pressed, his voice taking on a dominant tone.

When I finally looked up at him, tears poured from my lashes. “I’ve still been doing the hypnosis,” I confessed, my lips quivering with every word. “I went behind your back and convinced the others to help me.”

Sinclair’s glowing emerald eyes bore into me as his jaw clenched tight, the muscles twitching dangerously. I opened my mind to him, showing him everything that happened through our bond, both the lead-up to the second session and the events we uncovered. I even showed him the conversation afterward, not wanting to hold anything back now that the game was up.

Slowly, carefully, Sinclair moved my body away from his, even as I tried to cling to him. “No, please don’t leave, Dominic.”

“I’m not leaving,” he assured me gruffly. “I just need to think for a minute, and I can’t do that clearly when you’re snuggled up giving me those puppy dog eyes.”

I sniffled, and I could feel his wolf’s continued agitation over my tears, even as the possessive Alpha struggled with his temper. I wrapped my arms around my knees, clamping my hand over my wrist in a death grip to stay still. I was finding it very difficult not to squirm in the face of my mate’s disapproval.

Sinclair paced back and forth, growling wordlessly as he worked through his thoughts. He didn’t let me feel his emotions, but a few slipped out, giving me flashes of anger, frustration, and heart-wrenching disappointment. I was shocked at how powerfully the last affected me. I’d heard people who grew up in happy families say that disappointment can be worse than anger, something I’d never understood until this moment. I didn’t believe anything could be more horrible than the violence and pain wrought by a person’s rage; I didn’t realize how different things are when love is involved… when a person is your entire world and you let them down. I started to cry again and hid my face in my knees so he couldn’t see my tears.

After a moment, his footsteps fell silent, and I lifted my face to find my mate looming above me, a cold expression on his face. “What am I supposed to say to this, Ella?”

“Whatever you like,” I croaked. “Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re feeling. I know I was wrong.”

“Do you?” He countered roughly. “Because it seemed to me you were so convinced you were right you were willing to betray my trust. To ask my family, friends, and guards to do the same.”

“Not wrong for doing it, wrong for lying about it, hiding it,” I amended softly. My wolf begged: Let me out. I need to make it up to him. Let me show him how sorry I am.

I cautioned her: Not yet. We need to have this out first.

“What did you think would happen?” Sinclair asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “That you’d uncover the secret to winning the war and that would excuse what you did? That you could come to me when I got home, tell me everything you learned, and be forgiven?”

I shook my head, absolutely miserable. “I just needed to know. We needed to know. But I don’t believe it excuses anything.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to agree.”

Sinclair’s voice bit, and even though he was furious, he didn’t seem able to resist touching me. He slid his powerful hand around my nape, applying gentle pressure that somehow steadied and thrilled me.

“I did,” I insisted, licking my lips. “I tried to talk to you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“You didn’t,” he corrected firmly, stroking the side of my neck with his thumb—pure dominant affection. “Not the way you talked to the others. You assumed I couldn’t be objective about you.”

A flash of defiance sparked in my chest, and I notched my chin up, trying to match his scowl. “Was I wrong?”

I could feel his wolf fighting for control, and in the next moment he was pulling me up onto my knees.

“No, damn you. You weren’t,” he rumbled, dragging me into his arms and claiming my mouth in a searing kiss. I didn’t resist; I threw my arms around his neck and let myself be taken. His hands were rough on my body, and so were his lips. Sinclair nipped my lower lip with his fangs and took advantage of my gasp, sliding his tongue into my mouth. His big hand stayed locked on my nape, holding me in place for his conquest, tilting my head this way and that. He grumbled and growled, and I shuddered in reply, not caring what else happened, as long as he kept kissing me this way.

Before long, I was breathless and overwhelmed with liquid heat. When Sinclair pulled back, I tried to follow him and whimpered in disappointment when he didn’t let me. “I won’t lie to you, mate,” he remarked huskily, our breath mingling. “This has hurt us. How am I supposed to trust you again?”

I shrugged, even though this devastated me. “Isn’t that the choice you made when you left? To have me safe and hating you, rather than happy and dead?” I inquired. “I chose to lose your trust and help the war, rather than keep it and hinder our efforts.”

Sinclair sighed, stroking my spine in long, soothing lines. “Hugo was right,” he said, baffling me. “We’re two sides of the same coin, you and I.”

“Of course we are,” I answered, nudging his nose with my own. “We’re mates. If I have to deal with you being stubborn and impossible and infuriatingly self-sacrificing, it’s only fitting that you have to deal with the same from me. I’m your just desserts, Alpha.”

The corner of Sinclair’s mouth quirks upward. “Are you calling me names, little wolf? Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble as it is?”

“I figure that if I’m going to do a thing, I might as well go all in,” I replied, offering him a shy smile. “Though I do have plenty of other names in mind for you.”

“Mhmm, and what are those?” He inquired, sliding his hand over my bottom and squeezing. It was both sensual promise and threat, but all that mattered was the hungry look in his eyes, all signs of anger and distress replaced with desire.

“Bossy,” I began, pausing to nibble his jaw. “Overprotective, possessive, tyrannical, bloodthirsty, unreasonable…” I kissed or nipped a new spot with every word, moving down his neck and over his chest, delighting in the warning sounds from his wolf. Just when I sensed he was about to pounce, I looked up at him and let all my love rush through our bond. “Brave,” I offered, kissing his muscular abs, “noble…” kiss, “cunning…” nip, “powerful…” lick, “passionate…” I unbuttoned his sleek black trousers. “Gorgeous, sexy, generous to a fault.” I slid his pants down his legs. “My absolute heart and soul. The only one I ever want.”

Sinclair caught my hands before I could take his hardness in my palm, pulling me back up to eye level. He kissed me again, and my pulse raced with excitement—every bit as feverish and exhilarating as the first time. “Thank you, baby.”

I was surprised to hear his deep voice hoarse with emotion, and I realized how hard this distance had been on him as well.

“Has it been horrible, waiting for me every night and me never coming?” I asked anxiously.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Sinclair informed me, with pure authority. “As far as I’m concerned, we can deal with all that when I’m back. But right now I just want to be with my mate.” He brushed my hair back from my face with both hands, cupping my cheeks. “Are you recovered enough from your nightmare?”

I nodded, reaching again for the hard member pressing into my tummy. He stopped me again, of course, giving me a sharp look. I huffed, “Yes, Dominic. You made it all okay—you always do.”

“Good, because I have some words for you too, trouble,” Sinclair informed me darkly, laying me out on the bed in front of him. He had that wolfish look in his eye, the one that told me I was in for a long night at my mate’s mercy. The one that told me he was barely in control, and all I could do was hold on and try to survive the pleasure. “Let’s start with brilliant…” He stripped off my nightdress. “Beautiful…” He traced the line of my curves. “Courageous…” kiss, “sweet…” nibble, “fucking delectable…” lick, “…and very, very naughty.”

This cleaned-up version addresses grammar, punctuation, spelling, and formatting inconsistencies, while maintaining the original tone and style. I've also removed the unnecessary repetition of some phrases. The use of italics indicates internal dialogue or thoughts. Note that some phrasing remains suggestive, given the original text.