Dawn lit the horizon as the door creaked open, and Sinclair returned to the room. My gaze immediately found him; I was sitting up in bed, having spent far too many hours alone, gazing at my baby.

Sinclair pushed the broken door shut and sighed before meeting my eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with guilt.

"You'd damn well better be," I murmured, because honestly, I was furious.

He moved closer, and I saw he was exhausted, but my eyes searched him, looking for blood. If he'd killed Calvin, surely there would be— "I didn't kill anyone," he murmured, sinking onto the bed beside me and burying his head in his hands. "Though I wanted to, and I would have."

"He didn't do anything, Dominic," I said firmly.

"He did, Ella," Sinclair snapped, glaring at me. "I get that we're in uncharted territory with the possibility of both of us having two fated mates, but honestly? There's some precedent. If a couple are chosen mates and one meets their fated mate, there's a protocol."

I paused, shocked. "Really?" I asked, curious. "What is it?"

"Well, it's damn well not keeping it a secret from everyone and taking her on a romantic date where you touch her face—" I couldn't help a dark, angry laugh.

He glared, but I shook my head. "Dominic, if the man thinks he's my fated mate and all he does is touch my face—is that honestly a crime worthy of death?"

"Yes," he growled, completely sincere. "When it's my mate, it sure as hell is."

"Did you find him?" I asked. I had much to say, but I needed the details first.

"I did not," he murmured.

"Did you try?" I pressed.

"For about fifteen minutes, yes," he confessed. "Then I came to my senses and realized I couldn't kill an Atalaxian prince without dire consequences."

"So you realized you were overreacting—"

"I was not overreacting—"

"Fifteen minutes," I continued, ignoring him, my sharp tone conveying my feelings. "And then you stayed out all night? Left me here alone, knowing I was upset and needed you?" He paused, his shoulders slumping with guilt.

"That's why I apologized."

"Not because you hunted a prince." He snapped his gaze to me. "I don't regret that, Ella," he said, his voice low with anger. "He's very lucky I didn't find him, and if he's smart, he'll never step foot in my presence again." My eyes widened; he was dead serious.

"So what did you do all that time?" I asked softly.

"I went to Conner and…kind of ripped his door down."

"What!?"

"I could smell him on you," he growled, and I groaned—I knew that was coming.

"Was he there?" Sinclair nodded. "I…owe him an apology too. I frightened him, but I just…confirmed the details you told me."

"Did you think I was lying!?" He glared. "I just worried you missed something, Ella—I wanted another perspective. All right?" I clenched my teeth, unhappy, but nodded.

"Then what did you do with the rest of the night?"

"I…ran," he said, shaking his head. "I needed to clear my head, burn off my energy and anger. But," my mate continued, turning to me, "I do regret leaving you alone. I don't know how I could have stayed, Ella—I wasn't strong enough to stay at your side when I wanted to tear the world apart." He dropped his gaze, guilt etched on his face. My heart ached because I knew we'd get through this, and I understood he was overwhelmed by the possibility of me having another mate, of potentially losing me. But still. I was baffled and confused, and I'd needed him to hold me and talk to me—and he wasn't there.

"You have to find a way to be stronger, Dominic," I said quietly, shaking my head. "For me, for our children," I shrugged, looking down at sleeping Rafe. "Because this won't be our only challenge, and your only solution can't be to shift into your wolf and murder everyone who crosses you." He sighed and nodded; he knew I was right.

I let him have a moment, clenching my teeth against my own urge to comfort him. When I could bear it no longer, I spoke.

"So, are you done?" I asked quietly.

He looked confused. "Done what?"

"Done freaking out? Can we finally have the conversation we should have had hours ago? Because I've been sitting here, wondering, worried…" And damn it, despite trying to be tough, tears welled in my eyes, and my lip trembled.

Sinclair shifted towards me, cupping my cheek. Wanting his touch, I pressed my face into his hand. "Yes," he said quietly, climbing into bed with me. "I'm sorry, Ella. You're right. You needed me, and I left. I'm…very ashamed." I nodded, silently urging him to lie down. He obeyed as I sniffed back my tears, and we lay down on the mattress, the baby between us.

"It was very difficult," he murmured. "To hear that another man…could have some claim on you."

"And how do you think I felt?" I said quietly, looking into his eyes. "The first time I heard about Lydia? And then when she came back into your life?"

He frowned. "Lydia—that's different—she's—"

"Your fated mate, Dominic," I said, shaking my head. "So if you don't think I understand the jealousy you felt when you heard about Calvin—" He growled at the name, making me smirk. But I pressed on.

"That he even claimed to think I could be his mate?" Sinclair thought for a moment. "All right," he murmured. "Then you might have some inkling. But Ella—is he?"

I opened my eyes wide and shrugged. "Dominic, I have no idea!"

Sinclair sighed, closing his eyes. I waited quietly, studying his face, and when he opened his eyes, his expression was determined.

"All right, trouble," he said, his voice a deep purr. "Let's get some things straight." He reached for me, and I scooched closer so Rafe was warmly nestled between us. Sinclair slid an arm around me, his palm warm against my lower back, and I traced my fingers along his ribs. I nodded, ready.

"Even if he is your mate," Sinclair said, closing his eyes as if he couldn't bear to look at me, "would you leave me for him?"

"No," I said instantly, appalled. Then, angry, I smacked his ribs, making his eyes fly open. "Why would you even ask that!?"

"I just wanted it said," he growled, giving me a half-hearted glare. "So we're on the same page. It's not unheard of for someone to leave their mate when they meet their fated—"

"I'm your fated mate, Dominic," I growled, stroking his stubble. My heart broke at the thought of him considering me leaving him. "I love you, I'm in love with you, and I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

"Okay," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Then the next order of business is…figuring out if he's actually your fated mate."

"Well," I said softly, frowning. "How…would I know?"

Sinclair frowned, confused. "Ella…I mean…you would just know."