On the fourth day of the festival, we woke to headlines about Lydia’s reappearance in Moon Valley. I was just emerging from the bathroom after a bout of morning sickness when I found Sinclair standing in the doorway, glaring at the newspaper. I startled, not expecting him in my room. I’d left his bed only half an hour ago and hadn’t planned on seeing him again until breakfast. I wasn’t sure what was on the front page, but it must have been bad if it couldn’t wait.

He glanced up, frowning deeply. “I thought I asked you to tell me when you feel ill.”

“Dominic, it’s happening so often now that it would be impossible to tell you every time, and I don’t have much warning,” I argued, though this wasn’t entirely true. While his presence and gentle hands soothed me, I still found it horribly embarrassing to be sick in front of him, so I avoided telling him whenever possible.

Sinclair narrowed his eyes, but before he could call me out on bending the truth, I crossed the distance between us. “What’s going on?”

He showed me the paper, dominated by a large black-and-white photo of him and Lydia by the snow maze. The headlines, in bold black lettering above the image, read: “Trouble in Paradise? Former Luna Returns to Reclaim Her Mate.”

My eyes widened in shock, and I quickly scanned the article. While the media had been kept away from the main feast, they clearly hadn’t been barred from the rest of the fair. Worse, they seemed to have overheard most, if not all, of Sinclair’s confrontation with Lydia.

The article read: “Though Moon Valley Alpha Dominic Sinclair seems to have won the lottery with his second-chance mate, Ella Correntin, his attention wasn’t on his bride-to-be at the annual Yuletide Feast in Oldtown. Instead, the prospective King was seen chasing his ex-wife, Lydia Davis—now of the Bloodbane pack—through the fair, causing his pregnant mate to walk out in protest. Onlookers report that the two engaged in a heated conversation wherein Lydia professed her desire to mend bridges with the Alpha, claiming she still loved him and that his second-chance mate wasn’t strong enough to lead the Moon Valley Pack, let alone the Kingdom. Though Sinclair rejected her advances, Lydia fiercely declared she wasn’t going to give up on him, leaving many to wonder if the fated pair might be able to repair their relationship.”

“They’re all like this,” he said, tension lacing his words. “Every paper and tabloid is some version of this. Fucking Lydia probably planted the story herself, given how they left out the parts that might make her look bad.”

Guilt washed over me as I realized how leaving the festival must have looked to onlookers, especially given this information. “I’m so sorry I left,” I murmured. “I didn’t think; I should have stuck it out and waited for you to come back.”

Sinclair frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“It makes it look like I was angry with you and we’re on the rocks,” I explained, my pulse fluttering.

“Ella, none of this is your fault,” Sinclair promised. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me for arguing with her in public, and Lydia for turning up to cause trouble in the first place.”

“But—” I tried to object.

“I said it isn’t your fault, and I meant it,” Sinclair interrupted, placing his index finger against my lips.

“Is this going to hurt the campaign?” I asked, my words slightly muffled by his finger.

“It’s a hiccup,” Sinclair stated simply. “We’ll do some damage control at the festival tonight. I’ll invite a few trusted reporters and make a statement refuting all this, but the more important part is that we put on a good show. We’ll look so happy and in love that everyone will forget this ever happened.”

“Okay,” I nodded, trying to steady my nerves. “And it’s wassailing tonight, right? So all we have to do is drink and sing carols and enjoy the fair.”

“Right,” he confirmed.

“I wish I could really drink,” I lamented. “I could use a bit of liquid courage tonight.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Sinclair crooned. “I know it makes you nervous, but you always do beautifully at these events.”

“When I stay at them long enough to participate, you mean?” I corrected, still regretting my decision to leave yesterday.

“You’re growing the pack a prince,” Sinclair smiled, “you get a free pass when it comes to these public responsibilities. In case you’ve forgotten, I was voting for you to stay home entirely until you convinced me otherwise.”

“I should have let you coddle me after all,” I sighed. “We could have avoided all this.”

Sinclair gathered me to his chest, hugging me tightly. “I’m glad to see you’re learning that I’m always right,” he teased.

Groaning, I tried to squirm free—to no avail. “You know I regretted it the moment I said it.”

“I’m not going to let you forget it, either,” Sinclair chuckled.

I laughed, ceasing my struggles and submitting to his embrace. “Bossy wolf.”

When we arrived at the festival, the media descended almost immediately. Cameras flashed before we even exited the car. Sinclair wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders, growling softly when reporters got too close. They eventually backed off, realizing they’d be endangering more than their careers if they invaded my space.

“Alpha, do you have any comment about the reports regarding your ex-wife?” a reporter asked, thrusting a microphone forward.

“I’ll tell you what I told Lydia last night,” Sinclair began coolly. “That I’m happier with Ella than I ever was with her, and there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I would ever take back someone who walked out on their pack when they needed them most. There’s no love lost between us, but I have no respect for a Luna who abandons her responsibilities as a leader.”

The reporters murmured and exchanged glances. Suddenly, the microphone was pointed at me. “Ella, how do you feel about Lydia’s accusations that you’re not strong enough to be the Alpha’s mate?”

I leaned into Sinclair, drawing on his power for confidence. “I think Lydia is obviously the kind of woman who believes there’s only one way to lead, and one way to be strong. If she believes that compassion and kindness are signs of weakness, well—I think that says more about her than it says about me.”

Sinclair leaned down, whispering in my ear, “You’re too humble,” he rumbled affectionately, making me blush. “You ought to tell them how fearlessly you braved those bath snakes yesterday.”

I could barely contain my laughter, grinning up at him and whispering, “I can’t say that.”

Sinclair’s cheeks split into a wide smile, and he kissed the tip of my nose before turning back to the clamoring paparazzi. “Trust me, gentlemen, this one stands up to me on a daily basis. She might come in a sweet package, but she’s got nerves of steel.”

I blushed again, but the reporters were eating it up. They wore the ravenous expression of hungry jackals, and I suspected they were thrilled to be getting this on tape. I could already predict the waves this would make—when Sinclair looked at me like that, I felt like I was the center of his universe, and I knew it was all an act. To outsiders, it would be beyond convincing. “Is there anything you would tell Lydia, if you could, Ella?”

“I would tell her that if she cares about her life, she’ll stay away from my mate,” I growled, surprising myself with my own ferocity. “And that the next time she wants to get a look at me, she can introduce herself directly, rather than sneaking up on a pregnant woman while she’s suffering morning sickness.”

This last statement caused a near frenzy, and Sinclair growled again. I watched as the crowd cowered instinctively. “When did this happen?”

“Last night,” Sinclair answered darkly. “Why else do you think I went after her, or that Ella left? We’ve all seen what jealous she-wolves can do at the best of times, and I don’t take threats to my family lightly.” He raised a hand to silence the clamoring crowd. “Now, I’m going to take my beautiful mate and get lost in the snow maze,” he announced, squeezing my waist. “And don’t be surprised if she’s seeing stars when we come out again.”

Hearty chuckles rose from the audience, and though I assumed Sinclair was joking, I quickly learned otherwise. He spent the rest of the evening kissing and caressing me for all to see, and by the time we got back to the house, I was so aroused I thought I’d go crazy if I didn’t find release. Unfortunately, there was no chance of that tonight because Sinclair took me to bed almost as soon as we walked through the door. For the first time, I seriously considered throwing in the towel and simply asking him to have sex with me, even though I knew it was just my libido talking. The little voice in my head was whining with need, and I found myself hungrily watching Sinclair as he climbed into bed beside me.

Could I really do this?