3rd Person Sinclair watched Ella like a hawk as his words landed. A riot of emotions flashed across her beautiful features, first relief, then happiness and finally worry and confusion. “We didn’t even sleep together.” He continued soberly. “She tried, but apparently I wasn’t interested – even drug
At last Lydia thought her problems were solved when Sinclair found that little whore to be his surrogate, but for some reason she hadn’t been able to waltz back into his life as if nothing had changed. He’d seemed genuinely angry about her departure, even though it’s what any rational woman would ha
Ella Once it became clear that Lydia wasn’t going to be the solution to our problems, I decided it was time to call in some backup. I trust Sinclair to take finding a new Luna seriously, but I also know he doesn’t have the time. Between running the pack, the campaign, and taking care of me, there’s
“There now,” Henry murmurs, patting my hair, “why don’t you tell me what all this is about.” Little by little the story pours out of me, in between hiccups and sobs – with small assists from Roger along the way. “There, you see?” I moan when it’s all over. “It’s all been a lie.” Of course, Henry i
Ella Sinclair calls soon after the news about the Princess breaks, explaining that he’ll probably be stuck at the office until late this evening as a result. He was relieved to hear that Henry and Roger were at the house with me, and made me promise to call him if I need anything. The three of us
“I wouldn’t put anything past him, Goddess knows he’s beaten her bloody more than a few times over the years… but I don’t know. It feels awfully cunning for his miniscule brains.” Sinclair assesses. “I agree.” Roger confirms. “So far I haven’t seen him come up with anything more creative than hirin
Trigger warning - mention of sexual abuse (not explicit) Ella I peek up at Sinclair from beneath my lashes, trying to gauge his frustration level. It’s obvious he’s displeased that I defied him, but I can tell he’s also glad to be home after what was certainly a very long day. Moreover, I think my
I watch him retreat into the bathroom, feeling strangely dismayed. Apparently flirting and kisses can’t get me out of trouble, but acting like a wounded butterfly can. That’s a good thing, right? It means we got away with it. Despite the statement, the little voice in the back of my mind doesn’t so