#Chapter 174— Ella Apologizes

Ella

After my snack, I meet with the chefs to talk about menus for the summit, then ask to have dinner sent up to my rooms.I’m feeling too pensive and tired to be social tonight.

I’m still reeling from discovering how badly I handled my troubles with Sinclair, and I’m both dreading and eager to make amends.I know I won’t feel better until I do, but the prospect is more than a little daunting.I’m too much of a chicken to call him on the phone, and I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing right now anyway.So I decide to wait for our dreams, where I’ll be able to feel his touch and let my wolf take over if things get too hard.I know Sinclair probably won't be asleep for hours, but it was a long, emotionally draining day.

So as much as I want to put off our meeting I take a quick shower and climb into my nest.

It smells like Sinclair, and that blessed comfort is enough to whisk me off into my dreams.

When I arrive in the dream forest I have nothing but time to kill, and I spend it thinking about what I want to say to Sinclair when he appears.

Of course, the more I think about my mistakes, the worse I feel, and soon I’m fighting the urge to cry.

When my mate finally takes shape in the distant trees, I feel a deep pang in my chest.I can’t bring myself to look at him.I kneel at the foot of the bed, my hands resting on either side of my belly as I stare at my lap.I can perfectly picture his handsome face, rugged lines and bronze skin practically glowing in the light of the moon, his blazing wolf eyes piercing me through the darkness.

"Hello trouble."

Sinclair’s deep voice wraps around me like a warm embrace, and I can see his black-clad legs just in front of me.

Strong fingers catch my chin, and then he’s tilting my face up to his.He searches my features with lethal intensity, and his voice is husky when he speaks.

"What, no smile?" He asks, running his thumb over my lower lip, his longer fingers splayed across my cheek and delving into my hair.

"If I didn’t know any better I'd think you weren’t happy to see me."

I can feel his wolf prodding at our bond, trying to tempt my own inner animal to rise to the surface.

"What is it, little wolf? Talk to me."

"I owe you an apology." I admit, wide eyed and trying to stop my voice from quavering.

"Already?" He inquires, the corner of his lip twitching upward.

"I’ve only been gone a day, how much mischief could you possibly have made? Other than skipping lunch of course."My jaw drops, and in my surprise and outrage, I forget some of my shyness.

"He actually told you?! That rat!" Sinclair chuckles, stroking my hair back from my face.

"You missed our bedtime call, so I checked with Roger. He explained that you’d had along day and probably went to bed early."

A new stab of guilt assails me.

"I forgot."

in my hands, "I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.I just didn’t get a chance to

my hands away from my face, his brow furrowed with

"Baby, it’s okay."

I insist, furious with

me and every time

growl, and I know Sinclair is warning me

thick, "I’ve been such a horrible

the whole world on your plate and you were still thinking of me every step of the way — figuring out how

hard time for being stressed

storm, watching me with the bearing

didn’t like what you were saying.I wasted our time together and whined and complained — and even now I can tell you’re pissed that I'm being hard on myself and you’re getting ready

breeding or new

my emotions swirling out of control.I’m prepared for the worst, and I even welcome

over his chest, his expression dark

to me, but then he rumbles, "Get on the bed,

taken aback

"Why?"

which has me scampering onto the

don’t need to tap into our bond to feel his

is in charge

the pure dominance

alpha power flow out of him freely, and maybe for the first time, I feel the full

reason why all the other wolves on

known he was strong and fierce, I’ve always understood that he’s clever and kind, but before now I

realize how much control he must employ every second of every day in order to keep it in check, to stop

moment ago I might have challenged him, but now

I

showing

decides how I feel? Who gets to choose whether or not

squirming with the desperation to cease the onslaught of

with her tail between her legs, but still

to tell me how to

technically your wo—- no

yet another wall of power, disproving my

"That's right, little wolf."

affirms, finally uncrossing his arms so

"On all counts."

I

through those feelings.But you do not get to tell me how to

"I'm sorry." I sniffle.

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