Ella I wipe the tears from my face and scan the room, Sinclair’s voice ringing in my mind. I’m still upset with him for making me share my location, but I’m determined to escape before he can endanger himself coming after me. If there’s a way out of this room, I’m going to find it. Let me help! My
Sincerely, Ella Sinclair P.S. Go fuck yourself. Dropping the pen, I pause to glance at the go-bag I took to the safehouse. I don’t want it to weigh me down, but I can’t afford to lose the herbs Adolpho gave me. I grab the tin, leaving the rest behind, and tuck it into my pocket. I quickly return
Sinclair After waking from my dream with Ella, I immediately get to work trying to find a way into the Royal Palace. I’m hopeful that Ella might be able to find a way out on her own, but I’m leaving nothing to chance. I call Adolpho and my father for insights on secret passages while Hugo and Roger
I wait until an hour before the Prince’s deadline to finally call him to set our meeting. At this point it’s been eight hours since I woke up, and I figure that if Ella hasn’t found a way out by now, she’s not going to. I use the same protocol from our first rendezvous, promising to send the locatio
Ella I gaze around at the icy mountains, squinting up at the sky. The sun is high overhead, only halfway through its daily journey from East to West. That means it’s about noon… three hours from when I found the passage, according to the bedroom clock. The Prince’s deadline isn’t until dusk, which
No! I argue immediately clutching my belly. Not unless we have no other choice. Those herbs are a last resort. I don’t like it any more than you do. She remarks sorrowfully, but this is life and death. If you don’t make it, Rafe doesn’t either. I know that! I insist ferociously. But I can’t… there
Ella My grief keeps me awake far longer than I’m sure I could have managed otherwise. I’m alone, so I don’t bother trying to quiet my keening, wailing my despair into the night air. I’m not sure how long it will take for the shift to take hold, but I pray that the violent transformation will genera
Sinclair cuts him off, “I’ll explain later, we need to get out of the woods.” He stands, cradling me in his arms, and I sob into his neck. “Th-the p-pup.” I moan. “I-I’ve k-killed him.” “Shh, little one.” Sinclair, purrs, but I can hear the grief in his own voice. “Let’s just get you someplace saf