“I’m very worried about this, Ella,” the doctor said grimly. He had just taken my blood pressure, and it was the same high reading recorded that morning with the home kit. “I know you’re in the middle of a campaign and you’re going through a lot, but you’ve got to find a way to de-stress. Otherwise, we’ll have to put you on bed rest.”

“Bed rest?” I repeated anxiously. “For how long?”

The doctor’s grave face spoke volumes. “The duration of your pregnancy.”

Sinclair stiffened beside me, moving his hand from my nape to massage my tense shoulders. “What can we do, other than avoid high-pressure situations?”

“I’m going to prescribe some medication that’s safe for you and the baby. Take it every day, and otherwise, keep up what we’ve already discussed: healthy eating, regular exercise, and calming activities.” The doctor continued, listing suggestions. “Try meditation or breathing exercises; pregnancy yoga is very popular. Sticking to a daily routine can help when things are uncertain. And Alpha, help her however you can.”

“Our parenting class instructor advised against coddling our mates—is that still good advice given Ella’s risk level?” Sinclair asked.

“Yes,” the doctor agreed, shattering the small surge of hope I’d felt. “Human or wolf, your mate needs to feel like you’re in control, especially when so much is out of your hands. She needs you to ground her if she starts to spiral—to show her she can rely on you.”

I didn’t see the logic, but I still disliked it. What was so wrong with a little coddling? I’d never been coddled. As if reading my thoughts, Sinclair’s warm breath fluttered against my neck. “Just remember how much you hated it when I kept you out of the loop, trying to protect you.”

Oh. I guess I had been coddled. I was about to acknowledge this, but when I looked up at Sinclair, his affectionate smile stopped my heart. “Besides,” he continued indulgently, “just because I don’t coddle you doesn’t mean I can’t pamper you as you deserve.”

I giggled like a schoolgirl, and the doctor left, clearly feeling he was intruding. When we got home, Sinclair tucked me in for a nap and returned to work, making me promise to call the servants if I needed anything and vowing to return as soon as possible.

I slept fitfully. Even exhausted, I found it difficult to sleep without Sinclair. He was becoming my security blanket—my body wouldn’t relax unless he was with me, and nightmares surged in his absence. I was getting too attached, I thought sadly, climbing out of bed after half an hour of tossing and turning.

“So?” the little voice in my head challenged. “He’s the baby’s father—he’s going to be in your life forever. Why not get attached?”

“Because he won’t always be in my life this way. He’s not going to be sleeping with me when he finds his second chance mate—and I have to be able to survive on my own. I can’t become codependent,” I answered ruefully.

“Maybe he won’t find his mate at all,” the voice suggested, sounding too hopeful.

I scoffed at my own naiveté. “Get it together, Ella! You can’t think that way—it’s just asking for heartbreak.”

I had just opened the door to get a snack when a guard appeared at the top of the stairs. “Luna, you have a visitor.”

“Really?” I stopped. “Who is it? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“She says you used to work for her,” he shrugged. “I tried to get her name, but she wouldn’t tell me. Should I make her leave?”

I paused. Sinclair wouldn’t like an unidentified woman in his home, and neither did I—especially after Roger’s warning. “What does she look like?”

“Tall, dark hair, tan skin—maybe 40?” He whispered. “She’s human.”

My stomach sank. It did sound like a former employer, and if she was human, it was probably true. She sounded like the heartless woman who fired me after I tried to plead Sinclair’s case for Cora’s job. “No, let her in. I’ll speak to her.”

Be nice, I instructed myself sternly. Maybe she came to apologize.

Downstairs, Jake and Millie’s mother was gazing around Sinclair’s sitting room with a hungry look. She looked me up and down as I entered, her appraisal distinctly spiteful. She spoke before I could welcome her. “Well, you’ve certainly come up in the world, Ella. Lord only knows what you had to do to wiggle your way into Dominic Sinclair’s bed.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, no longer feeling any need to be nice. She had set the tone. Though tempted to kick her out, I needed to know what she wanted.

“When I saw your picture in the society section, I could scarcely believe it. I had to see if the rumors were true,” she explained simply.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The media firestorm surrounding my relationship with Sinclair clearly hadn’t stopped with the shifter news. Everyone in the human world thought Sinclair was just a handsome billionaire, and he was still a public figure due to his philanthropy. I should have realized this might happen—my social circle had been small before discovering the werewolf world, and most people from my past wouldn’t suspect my relationship with Sinclair. This woman, however, knew exactly how at odds I was with my pup’s father initially.

“Now that you’ve seen they were true, you can leave,” I suggested, knowing there was more to this.

“Oh no, I think you and I have much to discuss, Ella.” Her eyes were locked on my belly. “It’s no wonder you were begging outside his gate that day. No doubt trying to get money to take care of your little problem?”

“My baby isn’t a problem,” I insisted. “And I didn’t even know I was pregnant then. I was asking for help for my sister—she was going to lose her job over a misunderstanding.”

My ex-employer studied me, as if deciding whether to believe me. After a pause, she snorted. “So, you thought because you spread your legs for him, he’d fall at your feet?” she guessed, drawing the wrong conclusion. Shaking her head, she arched a brow. “Though I have to give you credit for not giving up when you realized he’d knocked you up. Very enterprising—for a common whore.”

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I always knew there was something off about you. It never made sense why you wanted to chase after my brats. Now I see the brilliance of your plan.” She nodded at my baby bump. “You were probably selling yourself, waiting for this sort of ‘accident.’”

“Are you suggesting…” I couldn’t say the words.

“How much did you charge him anyway?” she asked, venom dripping. “I suppose being beautiful meant you attracted clients above your station, still, it seems backwards that he should pay for a night with you. And now you’ve won the lottery by conceiving his bastard.”

I wasn’t sure what upset me more: her calling my pup names or her accusations about me charging Sinclair for sex. “You come here, insult my baby, accuse me of being a prostitute, and think I’ll just sit here and take it?” I demanded fiercely. “You’re not just cruel—you’re delusional. Get out of my house.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she hissed. “Not without a check.”

The room spun. “You expect me to pay you? Why? To keep you from spreading these lies?”

“I think the tabloids would be very interested in what I could tell them about you.” She smirked. “They’re painting you two as a fairytale romance—imagine the headlines if they realized you’re nothing but a disgraced nanny who couldn’t hold onto her job because she was too busy whoring around for wealthy men.”

I gritted my teeth, trying to process this. I didn’t care what the human papers said, and I had good references. But the problem was, if the shifter media learned I was here in Moon Valley, working as a nanny and not with the Bloodbane pack, they’d realize I’m human. If the truth came out, all our lies would be exposed, the Campaign would fail, the realm would be in danger, and my baby’s life would be forfeit.

I had to talk to Sinclair. I had to stop her.

“Give me twenty-four hours.”