Chapter 425 – The Mark Ella

“Well, that’s weird,” I murmured, checking my phone as my mate sat shirtless beside me, finishing his paperwork before bed.

“What’s weird?” he asked, though I could tell he was only half-paying attention. I frowned, looking at Cora’s message. “Cora says she’s going away with Roger for a few days.”

“What?” he asked, his head snapping to me, his voice instantly sharper. He snatched his phone from the bedside table. “That can’t be right,” he said, scrolling through his messages. “Roger didn’t say anything to me.”

“Well, whatever,” I said, shrugging. “They can take some time for themselves.”

“Ella,” Sinclair sighed, and I looked at him in surprise. “We’re planning a coronation and trying to run a country. I’m depending on him to be here!”

I frowned and shook my head. “Don’t be so unromantic, Dominic,” I scolded. “They’re in love, they’re having a baby. Plus, Cora looked amazing in the wedding dress today—I think I can convince her to have the wedding. If they do that for us, why wouldn’t we let them have a few days away?”

“Did she say she was going to do it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Nope!” I said, smiling as I typed a reply. “She said to forget about it.”

“What!?”

“Don’t stress,” I said, laughing and glancing at him. “I know her! I think she’ll say yes. We should move forward with the plans.”

Sinclair groaned and shook his head, typing a message, probably to his brother. I concentrated on my own:

“That’s fine, Cora! Take whatever time you need. Don’t worry about the camps; Isabel, Hank, and I can handle it. Will fill you in when you get back. xoxo”

That done, I quickly checked on the baby—he was still sleeping. Smiling, I curled up next to my mate, resting my head on his chest and kissing him as he finished his message to Roger and pressed send.

“Did you yell at him?” I asked.

“Yup,” he replied, tossing his phone aside and wrapping his arm around me. “Okay, well don’t yell at Cora,” I murmured, feeling sleepy. “That’s my job.”

“You got it,” he replied.

We were silent for a moment before Sinclair cleared his throat. I opened my eyes, surprised, and looked up at him. “What is it?” I asked. I knew him—I knew he was exhausted, and that we both needed sleep. If he was clearing his throat, it meant one last thing before bed. Something was up.

“Ella…” he said, hesitating. “I want you to trust me when I tell you what I have to say.” I sat up, frowning.

“Tell me,” I demanded, anxious. “Right now.”

“Come back down here,” he said, pulling at my shoulder. I shook my head, my anxiety growing.

“Not until you tell me.”

“Ella,” he said, his voice low and warning.

“Dominic!”

He glared at me for a moment before realizing I wouldn’t give in. He closed his eyes, steeling himself. “Ella, we got word from the Atalaxians today. They… they want to send a delegation to the coronation.”

“What!?” I gasped, appalled.

“All the other neighboring nations are coming,” he said quickly, “sending delegations if not their royals themselves. It would be an incredible insult not to invite the Atalaxians as well.”

“Wait,” I said, raising a hand. “Am I hearing you right? Not only are they coming, but you invited those bigots!? Into our HOME!?”

“Ella,” he growled, snapping his eyes open and swiping my hand away. “We had to extend the invitation—it would have been an obvious act of aggression if we hadn’t—”

I scoffed, thinking perhaps the Atalaxians needed a little aggression, and started to move away, kicking off the blankets. Before I could get far, I heard him snarl and felt his arm around my waist, pulling me back hard.

I yelped as Sinclair rolled over me, quickly pinning my wrists above my head with one hand and using his body to hold me to the mattress.

“What!” I gasped, frowning angrily. “What are you doing!? Get off of me, Dominic!”

“Not a chance, little queen,” he murmured, a little darkness in his eyes. “I’m starting to think you need a reminder of who’s Alpha in this relationship, and the King in this nation,” he said firmly.

I glared up at him, wriggling, but he held firm. “I’m allowed to have my opinions!” I snapped, getting angry. “I don’t have to agree with everything you say and do!”

“You don’t have to agree with it,” he growled, bringing his face close to mine. “But you do have to support it, little mate. We need to present a united front.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a look. Bitterly, I closed my mouth.

“There,” he said slowly, satisfied. “I listen to you, Ella,” he continued softly. “I appreciate your input, but this is serious. I can’t have you second-guessing my decisions. I’m doing what I know is right for both of us—for our family. And you need to trust me.”

I clenched my jaw, then something in me gave. I turned my attention to my wolf, sensing her submission even as a low growl rumbled in her chest—she didn’t like it, but she respected his dominance. And she trusted him. She trusted that he would fight for us, care for us, and never make a decision that would jeopardize us.

Seeing her submit, I knew it was right. I lifted my chin, meeting my mate’s eyes, letting him feel my submission through the bond even as my face showed my displeasure.

The corner of Sinclair’s mouth curved into a tiny smile as he lowered his face and kissed me briefly. Then, he used his free hand to run down my side, gripping my buttock.

“See? When you do as I say…there are rewards.”

My eyes fluttered shut as he squeezed my buttock, taking control. My head fell back, baring my neck. Sinclair took advantage, pressing his mouth to my pulse, licking my skin, his teeth lightly grazing my flesh. I moaned as he pressed closer, letting me feel his weight pinning me down.

He growled at my moan, hungry for it, loving it. And I loved it too—as stubborn as I could be, there was something primal about submitting to my Alpha that made me want to cede him complete control.

“Say it,” he growled, moving his hand up my body, over my breast and across my neck, taking my face in his hand and turning it toward him.

“I submit,” I groaned, pleasure shuddering through me as I felt him straining against his underwear, pressing hard and insistent against my entrance. “I trust you, Dominic—I—I know you’re doing this for us. For all of us.”

He growled his assent before slipping his free hand down his body, lowering his boxer briefs to free himself. When I was panting for him, he entered me, filling me completely, a moan escaping my throat as he moved against me.

“Good girl,” he murmured before kissing me, claiming me—all of me—before we lost ourselves to each other. And I gave myself willingly, trusting him completely, as I knew he did me. My Alpha, my mate.