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 eyes

says innocently, knowing she’s been caught and lowering the piece of cold fried chicken back down to its

side, relief washing through me like a wave. “What are you doing down here?” She looks up at me

“The doctor told you to stay in bed – “I didn’t go

go down stairs.” She holds up a corrective finger at me. “He told me not to go up stairs. And I slid down on my butt to be extra careful! It was

“Ella,” I whisper between my

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

She shakes her gently

I ask, my anger fading but still not erased, “would you have gotten back upstairs? After your…” “I stare around at the rather 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 morning, when you got up, and could lift me in your big strong

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

smile and reaching for an Oreo, popping it

out for myself, sitting next to her. She hasn’t won – not yet but…well, I can’t really resist the sight of my pregnant mate happy, healthy,

absolutely all over the place – fried chicken, pasta

know what I wanted. Turns out, I wanted it all.” I grimace as she takes a bite of the licorice, ripping it off with her teeth as she turns a curious gaze to me. “Any chance we could move the nest down here? It’d be terribly convenient,

cut her off with a laugh, shaking my head. “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 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

too tired for real ideas. I sigh, running a hand down my face

she insists, shaking her head and studying my tired face. “I was right – you needed the sleep – you

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