Chapter 42
Chapter 42
Chapter 42 – Late Night Snack
Sinclair
I can hear Ella’s heart racing at a mile a minute, and the baby is starting to become stressed in accordance to his mother. I’m worried too, Ella is small even for a human, and I’m big even for a werewolf, but I don’t believe the Goddess would have chosen her to carry my heir if she couldn’t handle the toll. I need to calm her down quickly.
I begin to purr, petting her sides in long, soothing strokes. “Easy, little one. It will be alright.”
I can feel her nerves begin to settle, but it seems Ella’s mind is still in full revolt. “Stop that!” She whimpers, “I don’t want you to just soothe this away, I’m right to be afraid!”
“Of course you are.” I croon, not letting up on the purrs. “Childbirth is always scary, and it always seems impossible – that’s why it’s a miracle. You’re going to have the best doctors in the country, Ella. I promise you’ll get through it in flying colors.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” She grumbles. “You don’t have to push a watermelon out of your privates in five months! Oh g od, what have you put inside me?”
“Well technically, I didn’t put it there.” I remind her, trying to lighten the mood.
“Sinclair, I’m serious!” She snaps, “I don’t think I can do this!”
“Ella look at me,” I instruct gently. She shakes her head, refusing point blank, so I stop caressing her long enough to catch her chin and turn her beautiful face up to mine. “I’m going to take care of you.” I promise. “If that means we have to induce the baby to come a couple of weeks early or do a cesarean, we will. We’re not going to put your body through anything it can’t handle.”
Ella is gradually submitting to my purrs, though I can tell she still wants to fight. I can see that keeping my little human calm and relaxed through this pregnancy is going to be even more difficult than I anticipated, but I’m not the least bit disappointed if that means we have to spend more time snuggling and talking this way. I like taking care of Ella – It’s in my nature as an Alpha to care for others, and I need to give this comfort every bit as much as Ella needs to receive it – whether she realizes it or not.
Ella sniffs sullenly, nestling into my warmth. “It really isn’t fair that you can influence my emotions this way.”
“I know.” I commiserate, glad she can’t see my smile. The stubborn little thing clearly isn’t used to having help solving her problems, and I’m sure she doesn’t feel comfortable giving anyone else that power. I don’t tell her how much influence she has over my own feelings, however. The more time that passes, the more I realize how much my own mood depends on whether Ella is content – something I haven’t experienced with anyone but my mate.
With Lydia it was very different, my wolf was never settled unless hers was – and she fully expected me to manage her emotions for her, making every complaint in her life loudly and dramatically known. Ella is a very different creature, hiding her upsets most of the time and never expecting or even want me to fix them for her, but my wolf seems even more unhappy when she’s unsettled, than he was with Lydia.
My mind swirls with the implications of this, and I reason that it must be the baby once more. I’m so attuned and concerned about Ella because she’s carrying my heir, it makes perfect sense that my wolf is in this heightened state given our situation. I’m sure this connection is also why Ella seems only to be soothed by my purrs, and no one else’s. The instructor has gone silent – clearly an old hat at talking couples through the trials of childbirth and expecting panic attacks like Ella’s.
My sweet human is not the only first time mother in the room insisting the task ahead of them is impossible, and I’m not the only mate purring. Still, when I stop for a moment to test whether the other
men’s purrs soothe Ella, her heart rate begins to increase again, and I know she only responds to mine.
It’s the pup.” I tell my wolf, who’s strutting around with masculine pride in my head. “It has to be the pup.”
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That night I wake alone in bed.
At first I’m not sure what woke me, it’s not until I realize my arms are empty and I reach for Ella that I understand she’s missing. I sit up, instantly alert. She’s not in the room, and the bathroom is dark and empty. I surge out of bed, scenting the air. I don’t smell an intruder or sense anything off – not that I would. If anyone got close enough to sna tch her from my arms they certainly wouldn’t have left me alive.
I follow Ella’s intoxicating fragrance out the door and down the stairs, my wolf gradually calming as we near the kitchen and I piece together the puzzle in my mind. She must have woken with a craving and decided to sneak a late night snack.
I pause to listen at the door just in case, the familiar aroma of bacon filling my senses. A moment later I push inside, finding Ella stationed over the stovetop in the dim light. I flip the light on and she leaps half a foot in the air, yelping in surprise.
“It’s alright sweetheart, it’s only me.” I promise, coming forward to wrap my arm around her.
She backs away from me instinctively, clearly not realizing I only want to feel her body against mine, but I catch her hand before she can escape my reach and gather her close. “Did you get hungry?”
Ella nods, flushing, “I didn’t want to wake you.”
I offer her a stern expression. “I want you to wake me when you get up in the middle of this night.” I tell her, “whether it’s to satisfy a craving, or to feed the baby when it comes.”
Ella blinks, and I wonder if she expected us to sleep apart after she delivers. “But you can’t help me nurse. Why would you get up too?”
I roll my eyes, “because we’re in this together. If you have to wake up ten times a night, then I should have to, too.”
“You say that now,” Ella snorts, “We’ll see if you’re still singing that tune in a few months.”
“I’m serious Ella, I don’t want to miss a moment of this experience. I’ve waited for it for a very long time. Besides I might not be able to give the baby milk, but I can support you while you do.” I reason, not giving her an inch literally or metaphorically.
Ella narrows her eyes. “Are all shifter men like you? Or all Alpha’s? I guarantee you human men aren’t.” This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
I furrow my brow, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know – honestly. And I really don’t care what anyone else does. This is how we’re going to do it.”
“And what if I don’t want you to get up with me?” Ella poses, a devious glint in her eye. “What if I want to let you sleep, or to steal alone time with the baby.”
I chuckle, pleased to see she’s comfortable enough with me to indulge her mischief. “Just try it and see what happens.” I tease back. “Now,” I continue, looking over her head to the frying bacon. “What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Bacon.” She answers, not meeting my gaze.
“And?” I press, knowing her cravings are never so one note.
“Covered in chocolate.” She murmurs, flushing. I wait, sensing there’s more to the story. Ella does not disappoint. “Dipped in guacamole and hot sauce.”
I can’t withhold my chuckle, and Ella looks up at me with wide eyes. “You think I’m gross don’t you.”
Oh if only she knew how far the opposite my feelings were. “Of course not – I think you’re pregnant.” I answer, nudging her towards one of the high bar stools. “Now you sit here and relax, beautiful. I’ll take care of the food.” I’m pleased to see Ella no longer flinches when I mention her beauty. She obviously still doesn’t like it when others do, but now instead of seeming uncomfortable or annoyed, she blushes when I compliment her.
I finish preparing her snack with ease. The bacon was almost finished cooking already, and the chocolate is already melted. I pat the bacon dry and let it cool a bit, before cutting the strips in half and dipping them in the rich ganache. I lay them out on a plate and pull out a carton of guacamole from the fridge, placing a heaping spoonful at the center of the plate and drizzling it in hot sauce. I place the plate in front of Ella, who gazes at it in amazement.” I was just going to eat it out of the tub like a heathen.”
I throw my head back and laugh, “I would probably have done the same.” I watch her take the first bite, moaning with pleasure as her lashes fall shut in epicurean delight. However odd it may seem to me, it’s what the baby wants, and Ella loves it.
I get a head start on the dishes while Ella indulges, only pausing to try a bite myself. It’s not as gross as I thought it might be – but it definitely doesn’t delight me the way it does my little human. When I place the last dish in the drying rack I turn back to Ella, only to find her sniffling pitifully.
“Ella, what’s wrong?” I exclaim, shocked by her heightened emotion.
She shakes her head, “It’s nothing, I’m being silly.”
“Tell me right now, Ella.” I order.