The Mystical Attraction of Alpha
Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Chapter 88 – Sinclair takes Ella home

Ella

It was easy to be reasonable when it was just me and Cora.

When my sister’s low, steady voice was talking me through all my misguided rationalizations, I didn’tstruggle to stay calm, I didn’t have to fight a tidal wave of raging emotions too tangled and convolutedto ever sort out. I was able to listen and really interrogate my assumptions, to use logic and reasonwithout getting caught up in my emotions. However as soon as Sinclair appears, all that goes out thewindow.

Just seeing his handsome face makes me want to burst into tears, and I’m so miserable and furiousthat I don’t know what to do. A sense of utter betrayal slams into me, and for the first time I understandwhy I was so afraid of being love bombed. He might not have been manipulating me, but I think I’vebeen falling in love with Sinclair all along – no matter how hard I tried to fight it.

Sinclair’s power washes over me the moment he enters the room. He barely pauses to greet Cora, hisattention clearly elsewhere as his sharp eyes scan the room, only stopping once they land on me. Heimmediately crosses to the couch where I’m seated and kneels down in front of me. “Ella,” my name isa sigh of relief, and he unwinds my arms from my body so he can look me over, as if he’s worried I’vesomehow been injured in his absence. I try to resist his strength, but he makes a deep rumbling soundand I instinctively surrender. His hungry gaze rakes over every inch of my skin before finally rising tomeet my eyes. He takes my face in his hands. “Are you alright?”

Knowing I’m playing with fire and not giving a damn, I shoot him a sulky glare. “What do you care?” Ihate myself as soon as the words leave my lips. I sound like such a child.

His brows knit, “That’s a no.” He assesses gruffly, pursing his lips as if he’s internal cursing himself. “I’mso sorry about last night. I can explain–”

“I’m fine.” I counter sharply, not wanting him to see how badly I’m hurt. “I don’t give a damn what youdo or who you see when we’re not together.”

Sinclair arches one dark brow, leveling me with an expression so stern I want to crawl under the couchand hide. “In that case we can go home and discuss the way you snuck out last night, without yourguards, without letting anyone know where you were going.” His powerful hand slides around to mynape, and something deep and primal in my bones curls in on itself. “Not to mention crawling downtrellises in the rain, especially when you’re carrying precious cargo.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” I snap, hating to be reminded of how reckless I was with myunborn child. “I came to Cora’s because I wanted to be with my sister and I’m going to stay here.”

“Then you have a choice.” Sinclair informs me, his voice like gravel. “Because I’m not leaving you whenyou’re like this. So we can have this out here, in front of Cora, or we can go home and do it in private.”

I glance over his shoulder at Cora, who’s currently staring at me as if she’s never seen me before. Iknow I’m behaving like a complete brat, but I can’t help myself. Sinclair turns me into someone I don’trecognize in times like these, and though part of me thinks it must be the baby’s influence, I’d be lying ifI said it didn’t feel right. Pushing back against Sinclair seems like the natural thing to do, something thevoice in my head is demanding despite my better judgment.

“You need to leave.” I growl, a pitiful rumble sounding in my chest.

Sinclair’s eyes flash dangerously, and he flashes his fangs, showing me his inner wolf. “Have it yourway.” The next thing I know his shoulder is digging into my pelvis, and I’m being tipped upside. Before Iknow it I’m slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour. I yelp in surprise, feeling the blood rush to my

head. Before I can hope to orient myself, my hair spills down towards the ground, completely blockingmy vision of everything beyond Sinclair’s muscular back.

“Dominic! The baby!” I object, squirming vigorously.

“The baby is perfectly fine.” Sinclair promises, locking his arm over the back of my knees to cease myescape attempts. “You, on the other hand…”

“Put me down right now!” I order, kicking my feet into his toned abs and remembering that his body isconstructed of pure steel. The pain in my toes only enrages me more, and so I start beating myclenched fists against his firm backside. “This isn’t fair, you tyrant!” I snarl, fighting for all I’m worth.

“That’s right, you just get it all out of your system, baby.” Sinclair chuckles, patting my thighs. “But youbetter believe I’m taking note.”

He carries me out the door and into the elevator, letting me vent my rage with so little reaction I wonderif he even notices my attack. “Can you even feel this, you ogre!” I exclaim.

“Like ferocious little mosquito bites, sweetheart.” Sinclair taunts, earning himself another outragedsnarl. Of course, the big wolf only laughs. He carts me out of the building and onto the street, whereanyone can see us.

“Dominic, people will see!” I object, stilling my movements for the first time.

“Then you might want to stop making all those adorable little growling sounds. People are going to startsearching if they think there’s an angry kitten on the loose.” Sinclair informs me sagely.

“This isn’t funny!” I cry, hating him for making light of my misery. Sinclair deposits me into the back ofhis limo, and I immediately slide over the seats and try to climb out the other side. UnfortunatelySinclair’s shifter speed gets the better of me again, and I’m dragged back into the car. Furious, I move

into the seat across from him, biting down on my lower lip to stop it from quivering and betraying howclose to tears I am.

“I don’t think this is funny, Ella.” Sinclair answers, sounding so sober I wonder if this is the same manwho was teasing me a moment ago. “This is very serious to me, but I can’t help the way your defianceprovokes my wolf any more than you can help feeling provoked by me.” His glowing, emerald eyes areboring into me, piercing straight through me with so much intensity I can’t doubt his honesty. “And Iadmit, I replace you too cute to bear when you get riled up this way… but I don’t replace anything about thesituation we’re in amusing.”

I cross my arms over my chest, and suddenly I taste blood. I guess I was biting myself too hard, andnow of course Sinclair is beside me, tsking and tugging my crimson-stained lip from the prison of myteeth. I pull away from him, not wanting to be soothed and coddled when I’m still so furious. Sinclair’sjaw clenches, but he lets me go. “Ella, If you stopped fighting me for a minute I could tell you whathappened.”

“You might be able to bully me physically, but you can’t make me listen to you.” I snipe. “Whatever it isyou want to say – I don’t want to hear it.”

More like you’re afraid to hear what he needs to tell you. The little voice in my head observes.

So what if I am? I counter. It’s not like it will change anything. The writing is already on the wall. I don’tneed him to tell me how he thought he was over Lydia and didn’t realize he wasn’t until it was too late. Idon’t want to listen to his apologies or promises he can’t keep, about how this doesn’t have to changeour plan.

Maybe not, but you could at least try to be less petty about it.

She has a point. I don’t know why I get this way with him, I never suffered from immaturity beforemeeting Sinclair.

You never had the option before. My conscience reminds me. You always had to be the grown up inevery situation you were in.

Then I should be able to act like one now. I think miserably, even though I know it’s a losing battle. I’mabout to be a mother. I can’t regress just because I got my feelings hurt.

Sinclair is still watching me, and I fight the instinct to squirm under his scrutiny. I take a few deepbreaths, trying to work myself up to an apology for my behavior, but unsure how I can word it withoutalso opening us up to a discussion. Before I can come up with the right answer, Sinclair’s familiar bassbreaks through my thoughts. “What upsets you more Ella, the way I handled last night, or the fact that ithappened in the first place?”

“What?” I reply, feeling my hackles raise defensively. Surely he’s not suggesting what I think he is.

A moment later however, my pulse begins to race as Sinclair repeats his question, this time cuttingright to the heart of the matter. “I’m asking: are you angry, or are you jealous?”