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 –

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

knowing she’s been caught and lowering the piece of cold fried chicken back

a wave. “What are you doing down here?” She looks up at me with her eyes still wide and then gestures at

“The doctor told you to stay in

up a corrective finger at me. “He told me not to go up stairs. And I slid

eyes shut. “Ella,” I whisper between my

she protests. I snap my gaze back to her, glaring. “I could have gotten you food! Anything you wanted! I

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

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 morning, when you got up, and could lift me in your big

murmur, relenting and raising a hand to play with the ends of her lovely rose–gold hair. I’m starting to calm now,

she quips, giving me a big smile and reaching for an Oreo,

at this and pull a chair out for myself, sitting next to her. She hasn’t won –

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

out, I wanted it all.” I grimace as she takes a bite of the licorice, ripping it off with her teeth

make sure you have a better selection upstairs. Maybe we can hire someone…” I drift off into my thoughts, trying to think through solutions as she continues to pick through the contents of the table, grazing happily on whatever

come up with much though. I’m too tired for real ideas. I sigh, running a hand down my face and rubbing my eyes with my thumb and my forefinger, thinking longingly of my pillow and our

a soft little “oh,” putting her hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes and look at her worried face. “See?” she insists, shaking her head and studying my tired face. “I was right – you needed the sleep – you shouldn’t be up,

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