Ella I’m so focused on Sinclair, I don’t even see the car until it’s almost upon me. I’m too stunned to move, not that there’s time to get out of the way. The only thing I can do it try to turn my body away from the vehicle, to shield my unborn child from the inevitable crash. Time itself seems t
Before I can touch him, I’m distracted by sounds of a struggle in the distance. I follow the sound with my eyes, catching our chauffeur wrestling the homicidal driver to the ground a few meters down the road. He must have tried to make a run for it when the car stalled, unable to simply plow through
Ella Sinclair finally agreed to let the EMTs administer emergency care, though it wasn’t easy. He refused to let me out of his sight, and though he’d tried to maintain physical contact too, the EMTs eventually convinced him to let them strap him onto a gurney for transfer to the hospital. I sat bes
Things reach an unfortunate crescendo when they try and take him for x-rays, because of course I can’t go with him. They need to assess the internal damage from the blunt force of the crash, and though the logical part of Sinclair realizes that, the combination of so much danger, my upset, and all t
Ella Pain. My first reaction is pain - blistering and hot, like having my body suspended over a pit of flames and slowly roasted. Sinclair won’t need me anymore. I’ll lose him. For all my resistance, I’ve become hopelessly attached to Sinclair, and my feelings for him are far stronger than I’d lik
“I know and I’m not saying she isn’t terrible, just that you need a true Luna.” I remark with a weak shrug. “And with you there to keep her in check, her worse nature wouldn’t ever get out of control.” “Who says I need a true Luna?” Sinclair grumbles, sounding every bit as petty and mutinous as I m
Sinclair When Ella collapses in my arms, I can hardly wait for the nurses to come running. I immediately assume we must have missed some injury from the accident, and I’m instantly furious with myself for letting her talk me into being prioritized by the medical staff. What was I thinking? I know
“You naughty girl.” I tease, stroking her soft cheek. “Fainting to get out of telling me your feelings?” “It wasn’t on purpose.” She pouts, looking over me with obvious concern. “Why are you out of bed? What about your x-rays?” “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” I encourage, “how are you feeling?