Sinclair stared at his father, not comprehending his words. "What do you mean she left?"

"Well, you took off, and your brother came along and started whispering in her ear about Lydia and picking arguments with me," Dad explained pointedly. "I wasn't surprised when Ella walked away—the poor thing clearly doesn't like conflict. I thought maybe she'd just gone back to the restroom, but she hasn't come back, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of her since."

"Damn it," Sinclair swore, dragging a hand through his hair and looking around. He didn't see the guards he'd specially assigned to her, and he could only hope they were with her—not searching for her.

"What were you thinking, running off like that?" his father scolded.

"I had to make sure Lydia wasn't a threat to her or the pup," Sinclair gritted out, wondering just how much damage his impulsivity had done. Between leaving Ella alone, publicly arguing with Lydia, and now preparing to leave before the feast had truly begun, it was entirely possible he'd hurt his campaign—not to mention the mother of his pup.

"I understand that, but you must know how that looked to Ella," his father sighed. "And Roger didn't help."

"What did he say to her?" Sinclair demanded, more harshly than he intended.

"About what you'd expect," Dad grimaced. "That Lydia came back to try to mend bridges and that you would dump Ella in a heartbeat to get back together with your fated mate."

A low growl tore through Sinclair's chest, and he half considered tracking down his treacherous brother and making him eat his words. However, his wolf wouldn't allow it. He was demanding they see to Ella first—her welfare was more important than punishing Roger.

Sinclair made his excuses to the King and Queen, using Ella's illness as an excuse. No one could fault him for caring for his breeding mate rather than furthering his campaign, and he and Dad returned to the limousine without much objection. The driver confirmed he'd taken Ella home a little while ago, but Sinclair wouldn't relax until he could talk with her.

When he got home, his rooms were empty, and he knew it was a bad sign if Ella was sleeping in her own bed. She only ever did this if she was unhappy with him or—Goddess forbid—needed privacy to relieve their sexual tension. Still, after the night they'd had, he doubted there was much danger of the latter, so he made his way to her rooms without hesitation.

He entered without knocking, finding Ella curled beneath her covers but wide awake. She sat up when he entered, her golden eyes wide. "You're home already?"

"You didn't think I'd stay after you left, did you?" Sinclair inquired, coming to sit on the edge of her mattress.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I wasn't sure you'd notice I was gone." She winced almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that—I sound like a spoiled child."

"Don't apologize," Sinclair admonished. "Not for sharing your feelings."

"But they're so petty," she whispered, flushing bright red.

"You're allowed to be petty every now and then," he teased, brushing the hair back from her face. "It's the least I can offer when you're giving me a baby. What you're not allowed to do is run off without telling anyone where you're going." He continued sternly.

Ella peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. It was amazing how different she and Lydia could seem, even when wearing the same expression. Lydia had adopted this look to try and manipulate him, but Ella's shyness was entirely genuine. "You asked me if I wanted to leave, but then you disappeared before I could answer."

"Uh-huh," Sinclair hummed, sliding his hand around to her nape. He closed his hand around the back of her neck, massaging her tense muscles with his thumb. "You don't really think I'm going to let you get away with that, do you?"

"I took the guards with me!" Ella protested, clearly knowing she was in the wrong but attempting to push her luck. "I didn't break any rules!"

"But you didn't tell anyone where you went," Sinclair replied. "My father was really worried about you, and so was I."

"Oh," she frowned, looking truly guilt-stricken. "I'm sorry, that's not what I wanted."

"What did you want?" Sinclair pressed, encouraging her to lean her weight against him.

"I just wanted to get out of there," Ella murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Is that really all? You weren't angry at me? Trying to punish me for leaving you alone?" Sinclair suggested, trailing his hand up and down the curve of her spine.

"Not consciously," Ella reasoned. "I just felt overwhelmed. You were gone, and Roger and your dad were arguing. I didn't know what else to do."

"And I suppose it didn't have anything to do with the things Roger said to you about Lydia?" Sinclair inquired.

"He didn't tell me anything that wasn't true," Ella remarked, repeating a sentiment very close to the one she'd shared the first time Roger had sought her out. He hadn't cared for her acceptance of his warnings then, and he certainly didn't now, given everything that had happened between them.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Sinclair probed, overflowing with suspicion.

"That you two are fated and I'll never have that bond with you. He's not wrong," she answered blithely. Despite her casual tone, he could see the tension behind her eyes. Perhaps it truly didn't bother her, but she understood he was out of line, or maybe she cared more than she was letting on. Was it terrible of him to hope for the latter? To hope she was sad about this painful truth?

"We've talked about this before. He shouldn't be saying those things to you—he was trying to be hurtful," Sinclair clarified, wishing he hadn't been so thoughtless as to leave her alone and vulnerable to his interference.

"Or maybe he was just hurt," Ella suggested, using a tone he hadn't heard before.

"What do you mean?" Sinclair asked.

Ella pulled away from him, though not by much. "Look, I don't want to get in between you two, and I know you're right. He lashes out at everything and everyone but he does it the way a wounded animal does I can't help but feel sorry for him."

Sinclair's mind reeled, and he tried to keep his wolf calm. Ella sympathizing with Roger bothered him more than he'd like to admit. He loved that she had such a big heart, but she didn't know even a fraction of his misdeeds, let alone what he suspected about his recent scheming. He guaranteed she wouldn't be feeling sorry for him if she knew he might be behind her attack, or helping the Prince to keep him from winning the throne.

Ella leaned closer to him when she felt his muscles tense, and damned if it wasn't effective. It was very difficult for him to stay in a bad mood when her soft curves were pressed up against him. "He hasn't gotten what he wanted out of life, and he might be wrong to blame others for his misfortunes but I know what it's like to be denied that way," she continued, clearly feeling the need to explain herself.

At once, Sinclair understood what Ella meant. She saw something of herself in Roger, though she failed to grasp the core differences between them. Roger had let his misfortunes twist and corrupt him into a wolf without integrity or morals, whereas Ella had stayed pure of heart no matter what challenges she faced—and he guaranteed they were considerably greater than his brother's. "You did once, not anymore," he corrected fiercely, taking her chin and forcing her to hold his gaze. "From here on out, you're going to get what you want, Ella. I won't see the mother of my pup denied happiness."

Adorably, Ella placed her hands over her ears, as if she might block out the sound of his voice. "Don't! Please don't," she pleaded. "I don't want to get my hopes up; it will just hurt all the more when they fall through."

At once, he was furious with a world that had conditioned her to think this way. He wished he could go back in time and find her when she was a young girl, to take her under his wing and protect her from the cruelties she'd faced. He knew she wouldn't be the same woman today without them, but he still wished he could spare her the pain.

"Listen to me very carefully, Ella," he instructed, staring into the brilliant pools of her golden eyes. "I'm going to do whatever I can to ensure your hopes aren't ever dashed again. I can't promise you'll never be disappointed, but you have my word that if it's in my power to give you what you want, you'll have it."

"I don't trust this," Ella confessed, not meeting his gaze. "It sounds too good to be true." She slowly raised her eyes to his, taking a deep breath as she summoned her courage. "You sound too good to be true."

"Then I guess I'll just have to prove myself to you, won't I?" he grinned, grazing his knuckles over her cheek.

She shook her head. "I don't need you to be anything more than you already are; just please don't tell me to wish for the moon when I can't even reach the sky."

"That's because you've been reaching on your own all this time," he informed her gently. "It doesn't have to be that way."

"No?" Ella questioned, her eyes shuttering. "Then maybe you'd like to tell me what Lydia had to say when you found her?"

Too late, he realized he'd pushed too hard, promised too much, and Ella was calling him on it. He needed to make a decision and fast. Should he tell her the truth and make her fear for their future with their baby, or should he shield her from Lydia's intentions and protect her peace of mind?