Chapter 276-Ella Gets Hungry

Sinclair

1 wake, a few hours later, jumping up straight the moment I realize that Elle n’t next to me

She had drifted off to sleep hours ago after a simple dinner and a movie marathon. While she dozed next to me, I’d spent most of the late hours of the night answered the stack of emails piling up in my inbox and watching her sleep from the corner of my eye. But now, when my eyes peeked open for just a moment after maybe two hours of sleep?

Gone

I hurl the sheets off of me, getting to my feet in a flash, my head whipping around as I search the empty room for her with all of my senses. But my eyes tell me that she’s not here, and my nose

Her scent is dull, but not stale She hasn’t been gone long

A growl starts in my chest as I stalk from the room, looking through the empty hallways for my mate, desperate to find her. She was on bed rest, damn it – where the hell else would she be except bed? Unless

Unless, something had happened – but she’d have woken me –

Or she’d been kidnapped – but there’s no way I’d have slept through that.

I follow her scent quickly, my anger intensifying as I realize that it leads me down stairs. God damn it, the doctor expressly forbid her from stairs. I pound down the staircase hurrying through the hall and slamming open the kitchen door –

kitchen table in the dark, surrounded by a pile of food, her

been caught and lowering the piece of cold fried chicken back down

here?”

obvious.

deepens and I don’t let her off the hook. “The doctor told you

“I didn’t go far!”

told you not to go

not to go up stairs. And I slid down on my butt to be extra careful! It was totally

back and pressing my eyes shut. “Ella,” I whisper between

was hungry!”

her, glaring. “I could have gotten you food! Anything

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would have gotten up,” she scolds, her voice worried. “When you’d just fallen asleep, Dominic She shakes her gently at me. “You can’t be at my beck and call like this- not for something simple like a trip to the

shocking amount of food gathered on the kitchen table, “feast?” “You have like six couches, Dominic,” she replies, smiling innocently up at me like a little kid who knows they can get out of trouble if they’re cute enough. Damn it, but it works. Just a little. “I’d have napped on one of those until

planned out?” I murmur, relenting and raising a hand to play with the ends of her lovely rose–gold hair. I’m starting to calm now, realizing that my panic, while not precisely misplaced, hadn’t

and

myself, sitting next to her. She hasn’t won – not

out, frowning at her selection. It’s absolutely all over the place – fried chicken, pasta salad, cakes, wasabi–dipped peanuts, even a bowl

I couldn’t wake you to bring me food. I didn’t know what I wanted. Turns out, I wanted it all.” I grimace as she takes a bite of the licorice, ripping it off with

“No, Ella,” I insist. “You can’t move into the pantry like a mouse. We’ll just make sure you have a better selection upstairs. Maybe we can hire

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