"I'm not jealous!" Ella explodes, almost as soon as the question leaves my mouth. Her heart pounds in her chest, so fast and loud I couldn't ignore it if I tried. Her cheeks are flushed crimson, and my wolf celebrates in my head.
She's jealous! She has feelings! She knows she's mine! Mine, mine, mine!
He has a point. Ella isn't a good liar, and though she usually disguises her feelings, her emotions are too turbulent now. She sounded as believable as a fox caught raiding a henhouse, insisting it only wanted to admire the tasty morsels.
I arch a skeptical brow, and seemingly realizing how defensive she sounded, Ella takes a deep breath and tries again. "I'm not jealous," she repeats, sounding more convincing, but her body betrays her. Her blush persists, and her heart still races. "I'm angry because you lied to me."
I should correct her, explain exactly what happened last night, whether she wants to hear it or not. But my inner hunter senses something; my prey drive is engaged. "Then you don't care if I sleep with other she-wolves, as long as I'm honest about it?"
Her plump, pink lip—still stained with blood—trembles, and her voice tightens. "That's right."
Liar, liar, pants on fire! my wolf chants triumphantly. He's zooming around like a puppy, but I hide my excitement. This revelation is thrilling, but she's lying. I might forgive her—she's protecting her tender heart—but forgiveness doesn't equal acceptance. "Are you being honest with me, little human?" I rumble, pinning her with a stern glower.
Ella's luminous gold eyes widen; her lips part in a startled gasp. She's about to lie again, but seems to realize the hypocrisy. "Why should I be honest when you aren't!?" she demands fiercely.
"Ella—" I growl, a warning.
"No! You've kept things from me repeatedly, supposedly to protect me, and you went back to your ex after promising nothing was between you," she accuses. "Last night probably wasn't the first time! How long have you been sneaking around with her, Dominic? Has everything since I got pregnant been a scheme to get an heir and win the campaign? Did you arrange the sperm bank switch? What are you planning once the baby comes? Are you going to steal my child and discard me?"
I reel back, shocked by her mistrust. My wolf's jubilance vanishes; he whimpers, devastated to see her so miserable, so undone by fear and betrayal. This isn't right! I need to fix it!
She can't believe those things are true, can she? Are these long-standing fears? Or is she spiraling because of the perceived lie? She's always had trust issues, and it pains me to think she's been tormented by such paranoia, but I understand how her baggage could trigger this maelstrom. I want to tell her these ideas are absurd, but that won't help.
"Ella," I say firmly, "look at me."
"I don't want to," she snaps, turning away.
"I'm not asking," I clarify severely, waiting for my voice to compel her. Slowly, she obeys, lifting her blazing, terrified eyes to mine. I press my hand to her belly, hoping my warmth will reach her. "I didn't lie to you, Ella," I state evenly. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but—"
To my amazement, flames blaze in Ella's eyes, and she slams her hands over her ears, glaring with such hurt and animosity the gesture no longer seems childish. A world of pain and betrayal swirls in her brilliant irises. She's a woman deeply scarred by her past, battling raging hormones. Exhaling heavily, I remove my palm and pull her hands from her ears. Her eyes fill with tears; she's terrified of confirmation.
"I didn't lie to you," I repeat. "When you're ready, I'll explain everything, but right now, know everything since we met has been real. I had nothing to do with the sperm bank switch; I was as shocked as you were. Sweetheart, remember how angry and unreasonable I was then?" I remind her, biting back a smile. "I couldn't fake that; no sane person would act that way to trap someone. I'm not keeping Rafe from you. He's ours, and he belongs with us. I hid some things, but I haven't deceived you about my feelings, and I haven't been sneaking around with Lydia or anyone else."
My words sink in. Her posture changes; she unwinds with each sentence. As she relaxes, she nears collapse. Soon, her tears flow freely; she looks utterly ashamed. "I'm sorry, I know I'm being crazy," she hiccups. "I don't know why I said those things. I think I'm losing it."
"Jealousy can do that to a person," I tease gently, pulling her closer, trying to draw her into my lap.
Ella stiffens with outrage and pushes my hands away. "I'm not jealous!" she repeats, her exclamation more a whimper.
"Tsk, of course not," I sympathize, scooping her up despite her struggles. I gradually trap her defiant limbs until she's in my arms. I purr softly. Though she resists, soon her tearstained face presses into my neck, her nose breathing in my scent. "Though it's too bad."
"Why?" Ella demands grumpily, sniffling as she snuggles closer. Petulant but leaning into my touch, I pet her and nuzzle her hair. Her scent fills my senses; I breathe for the first time that morning. Goddess, I needed this. When she'd been missing, I'd panicked. I feared for her safety, hated the idea of her unprotected in a city full of wolves, but also feared Lydia had irrevocably damaged our relationship.
Finding her at her sister's, furious and lashing out like a hellcat, I realized there was still hope. She wouldn't be so upset if she didn't care, but I hated seeing her unhappy. My wolf wouldn't calm until she was safe in my arms, seeking my comfort, not attacking me. This is how it's meant to be.
"Because of what it would mean if you were jealous," I murmur, finally answering her.
"That I'm a fool," she suggests bitterly.
"That you have feelings for me," I correct, letting my feelings seep into my tone—hope, desire, the passion I contain with difficulty.
"Oh, I'm sure you'd love that," she mutters mutinously. "The big bad Alpha needs all women falling at his feet. How amusing for the hopeless little human to—"
Before she can continue, I claim her mouth with my own, silencing her.