Chapter 171-180

Chapter 171
When Sinclair left, all my wolf wanted to do was climb up to the highest tower of the Prince’s palace and howl into the sky, to cry out for our mate until our combined voices went hoarse. Instead I allowed myself a single hour of wallowing – I climbed into a bubble bath, turned on the saddest song I could find and cried until my tears ran dry. Afterwards I pulled myself together and got dressed, even though I could feel Sinclair slipping further and further away with every minute that passed.

We’ve never been this far apart since my wolf woke, and I’m amazed by how keenly I can feel his absence. As he drove away, Sinclair’s beloved voice continued to sound in my mind, I love you, Ella. I love you, Rafe. But it faded in perfect synchrony with the widening gulf between our hearts, and eventually it went completely silent. Now the only way we’ll be able to communicate through our bond is in dreams, otherwise we’re stuck with the technologies I knew as a human: cell phones and emails.

I know the best thing for my agitated wolf is to keep busy, so I start my day by meeting Cora and Gabriel in the King’s study, to begin planning the political summit Sinclair suggested. My sister is still half-asleep and sulking about the fact that Sinclair left Roger behind as added protection for us, but she offers me a sympathetic squeeze all the same. “How are you doing?” She murmurs, her arms locked around my back.

“Well I mate it out of bed and I’m not crying anymore… so better than expected.” I confess, burying my face in her neck.

“Tsk, poor thing.” Cora replies, rubbing my back. A note of humor enters her voice then, “My intrepid wolf sister, brought to her knees by a boy. I never thought I’d see the day.” She teases, even though this isn’t truly a fair assessment.

Sometimes I think my big sister is blinded by the relationship we had as children, because though she’s remarkably perceptive about my personality in many ways, there are other facets that go over her head completely. She sees the protector, the martyr who suffered without complaint and then shut out all the pain for so many years. She doesn’t see the love-starved girl so desperate for affection that she settled for scraps from a scoundrel. No, in fact if there’s one of us who avoids attachments at all costs- it’s her. Even as I think it, two new scents enter the room, as if they heard my inner musings and appeared to prove me right.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let Dominic hear you call him a ‘boy’.” Roger’s husky voice has Cora pulling abruptly away from me, a scowl on her pretty face. He and Henry are framed in the doorway, though my sister doesn’t seem to notice my father-in-law at all. Her full focus is on Roger.