Chapter 438: Be Careful, Little Mate

Ella

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Sinclair said, looking Calvin up and down. His voice was low and dangerous.

“Not personally, no,” Calvin replied. I watched him, surprised by how quickly he’d regained his composure. He executed a sharp bow, a gesture of obeisance, the kind one royal gives another. “I am Prince Calvin of Atalaxia. And, despite my party’s uncouth behavior this morning, I hope you’ll believe me when I say I am pleased to be here and eager to build a good relationship between our nations.”

Sinclair raised an eyebrow, studying the prince for a long moment before glancing down at me. “Well,” he said carefully, “it’s good to hear you say that. After this morning’s events, we were convinced peace wasn’t a priority for you.”

Calvin sighed and glanced over his shoulder at his delegation, who were speaking quietly with a group of strangers. “Honestly, Highness,” he murmured, as if seeking not to be overheard, “for many of them, it isn’t. But I hope to convince you that you have at least one ally across this border.”

Sinclair slowly nodded, pulling me closer. “I look forward to being convinced,” my mate said evenly, still studying the prince.

Calvin bowed again to both of us. “A pleasure, Your Highnesses,” he murmured, turning to leave.

“Ella,” I called—surprised to hear my own name.

Calvin turned back, equally surprised.

“Please,” I continued, “call me Ella.”

He hesitated, glancing at Sinclair, then bowed deeply. “It will be a pleasure, Ella.” He then turned away.

I pressed closer to Sinclair, feeling unnerved.

“What the hell was that?” Sinclair asked, baffled but not angry—at least, not with me. I shook my head slowly. “I honestly don’t know,” I whispered.

But what I couldn’t deny was that it was something. Something real, something significant.

As Sinclair and I joined Roger—Cora and Rafe were already entering through the main door—I found myself watching the strange prince, wondering who he was and what he wanted from me.

Sinclair and I went to bed late that night, after hours of chatting with delegates. Honestly, even just standing around chatting felt like running a marathon.

I settled my baby in his crib, kissed him, and flopped, fully dressed, onto my own bed.

My mate laughed. “Ella,” he said, shaking his head, “come on. You can’t fall asleep like this.”

“I can do what I want,” I muttered, turning away. “I’m the Queen.”

Sinclair laughed harder, removing my shoes. I moaned with pleasure. He sat on the bed’s edge, massaging my foot.

I moaned again, louder.

“I like it when you make that noise,” he murmured, his voice low and hungry. I glanced at him. Even exhausted, when my mate spoke like that…

Heat pooled in my core.

“I like it when you make me make that noise,” I murmured back.

He growled with pleasure, crawled over me, and settled above me, supporting his weight on his elbows. I took a deep breath, turned onto my back, and pulled his tuxedo shirt from his pants, my palms on his warm skin.

His growl deepened. He inhaled my scent, then kissed my neck, shoulders, and chest, each kiss sending shivers through me.

“You were wonderful tonight,” he murmured, falling to his side and pulling me close, stomach to stomach. “The perfect Queen.”

“I wasn’t,” I laughed, pressing closer. “I didn’t even know half the nations those delegates were from—I’m a sham Queen, very ignorant.”

“No,” he murmured, looking at me intently. “You were perfectly yourself, Ella. Very charming. No one holds your lack of knowledge against you; they know your story. They love that you’re a real person who cares about her people—not some born-and-bred lady who knows how to play the part of a queen.”

“Yes,” I said, my hands faltering. “But doesn’t that make me…a bit of a crappy Queen?”

“No,” he hummed, closing his eyes as my hands unbuckled his belt. “It makes you perfect.”

“All right,” I laughed softly. “If you say so, Dominic. You know best.”

“Damn right,” he growled, and I laughed again. I began to unbutton his pants, but his hand stopped me.

“What was that,” he said, his eyes on me. “Earlier—with the Atalaxian Prince?”

I bit my lip, pulling my hands away. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, concerned.

“Because I was talking to him alone,” I said quietly, “when we’d agreed to talk to him together.”

“He cornered you, though, didn’t he? Didn’t give you a chance?”

“But that’s my fault too,” I sighed. “I should have gone with Cora; I was stupid to try crossing the room alone.”

“Ella,” Dominic murmured, taking my chin. “It’s never so dangerous that you can’t cross a room alone. Honestly, if it were, I wouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

“But…I was nice to him, when I should have been cold,” I grimaced. “He was hard to be cold to, though. He was nice, charming…he charmed me.”

“Did he?” Sinclair asked, curious.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “I was prepared to cut him off and move to your side, but—honestly, Dominic, he was really nice and easy to talk to. I felt instantly disarmed.”

Sinclair hummed, intrigued and worried. I waited, watching his eyes as he considered things. When he refocused, I knew he’d made a decision.

“He surprised me too,” Sinclair said evenly. “I didn’t expect one of them to single themselves out, to suggest divisions in their faction. If it’s a ploy, it’s a strange one. Though not unconvincing. I need to talk to my dad about it.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I murmured, returning my hands to his body.

“But Ella,” Sinclair said, his voice serious.

I looked into his eyes. “Be careful with him, all right? He’s been…curious about you. I haven’t missed the way he focuses on you. It might be a tactic. Just…be on your guard and trust your instincts.”

“All right, Dominic,” I murmured, nodding. “I promise I will.”

“Good girl,” he growled, pulling me close and beginning to unzip my dress.

“So,” I said, pouting, slipping my hand down his stomach, “I’m not in trouble?”

Sinclair’s growl deepened as I touched him. “Why, little mate,” he rumbled, his voice catching, “did you want to be?” His hand cupped my behind.

“Well,” I whispered, smiling, my mouth close to his, “maybe just a little bit…”

My mate snarled, slapping my bottom. The impact reverberated through me, and I moaned, silenced by his mouth on mine.