The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Chapter 167

Chapter 167 – Going to Bed Angry

Ella

After dinner with Cora, I visit the Palace library, searching for any excuse to avoid Sinclair as I continue to work through my feelings. My sister’s troubles with Roger offered some distraction, but I’m not sure a distraction is what I needed. My anger and frustration with my mate hasn’t lessened at all, and I haven’t had the chance to think about our conversation in any depth.

I browse the bookshelves absentmindedly, more caught up in my head than actually paying attention to the available selection. Eventually I spy a Vanaran history book on the top shelf, and my curiosity is piqued. I’d love to learn more about this mysterious territory, but it’s very high up and there’s not a ladder anywhere in sight. If my mate were here he wouldn’t have any problem reaching it for me, but he’s not here.

And he’s not going to be. My wolf pouts, He’s leaving, and we’re going to have to get used to doing things on our own again.

Part of me is ashamed I’ve become so reliant on a man when I spent my whole life taking care of myself and others, and suddenly it feels ridiculous that I should seek out another to solve this problem. Licking my lips, I take a quick visual measurement of the shelves, and look around the room for a chair to stand on.

Finding a plush armchair, I pull it over to the bookshelf and clamber up onto my knees on the cushioned seat. Making sure I’m steady, I slowly get my feet under me, but unfortunately this doesn’t make me tall enough to reach the top shelf. Testing one foot on the arm of the chair, I determine that it won’t topple under my weight. Stretching as far as I can, my fingertips only graze the spine of the book, and I huff in frustration.

Keeping one foot on the arm of the chair, I balance the other on one of the shelves, pushing myself up to grasp the book. Just before my fingers close around the old leatherback, a thundering voice shatters the silence.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Dominic demands, his disapproval slamming into me full force.

fingers slip, and I use my free arm to cradle my belly as I fall. I see a whir of motion out of the corner of my

beneath the weight of his scalding temper. “Is that really what you want to say to me right now?” He inquires

have been fine if you hadn’t snuck up on me!” I argue, trying to wriggle out of his arms. However as soon as I begin trying

especially not when you’re alone. That chair could have toppled or you could have simply lost

trying to sense his mood. I feel pulses of uncertainty, but not due to any harm I’ve inflicted. He’s simply responding to my guilt and

wordlessly, a clear note of suspicion in his growl. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you weren’t trying to

suggestion preposterous, even though

was your way of proving it – making me think you’ll get up to too much mischief without

him sulkily, “And not everything is about you, Dominic.” I add spitefully,

and guilt from the knowledge Sinclair is displeased with my behavior. Is there a worse feeling than when one’s

question through our bond until Sinclair’s wolf replies. How do you think I feel? His arms tighten reflexively on my body. But there is

suddenly tears are burning in my eyes. I feel so overwhelmed and I’m not sure how to put my feelings into words. I also don’t want snatches of chaotic emotion to reach

him. Still, he doesn’t complain and when we finally reach our rooms he asks. “If it wasn’t about me then

I sniffle, wallowing in

his lap. “We’re

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