Ella
My mind goes blank at first. Sinclair is too close to the truth, to figuring out that I’m not as immune to him as either of us would like to believe. The voice in my head is panicking, but I try to keep it together. Praying for calm, I take a deep breath, and as I exhale I recall the ability to speak.
“Because we’re supposed to be in this together, and you played me.” I murmur, speaking the truth – but not the whole truth. I can’t admit to him that I feel utterly rejected by his ploy, that I feel unwanted on a visceral level and it’s tearing me up inside for reasons I don’t yet understand. “You played me like I’m one of those reporters, or the Prince.”
Sinclair’s face twists into a grimace, and the next thing I know he’s reaching for me, “Please, come here Ella.”
“No.” I insist stubbornly, preparing to move away if he tries to approach me.
“I’m sorry.” He expresses, looking truly remorseful. “I didn’t mean to do that. I care about you, I don’t want to hurt you that way.”
“Well you did.” I reply petulantly. I don’t know where this comes from. With anyone else I would have accepted the apology and moved on, whether I actually felt better or not. I’ve always chosen peace over my own feelings – but I find it very hard to pretend with Sinclair. I think he would know that I don’t actually feel better, so why should I fake it?
“I know.” He nods grimly. “I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
“I don’t need some sort of reparation.” I insist, “Just… do better, Dominic.”
“I will.” Sinclair vows soberly, “You have my word.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, but Sinclair is surveying me closely. I can tell he wants to metaphorically kiss and make up, but as I suspected, he senses my upset is not wholly resolved. “What else?” He prompts.
“Nothing important.” I shrug, not feeling brave enough to ask the questions I’m most curious about.
“Ella,” He says my name as an admonition, scolding me for not being honest with nothing but those two familiar syllables. “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind.”
I gnaw on my lower lip, hating that he can read me so easily, but also relieved that I might get my answers. “Alright, what was all that about discipline? Those things the Prince said about my insolence? It didn’t just sound like Alpha stuff… I mean it’s one thing to be insubordinate to a leader, but the way you two were talking… it made it seem like all men expect to be in charge of their mates.”
Sinclair’s lips quirk at the edges, and the energy in the limo abruptly shifts. The air around us goes taut, feeling suddenly tense and electric despite the fact that nothing has actually changed. Neither one of us have moved a muscle. Still I know Sinclair feels it too – it’s all too obvious in his reply. “Such a clever little human.”
“You mean it’s true?” I gape. “Why, because of the dominance thing? But that’s so backwards! You just said that strength and all that doesn’t have true value.”
Sinclair emits a low rumble. “I said it comes down to power dynamics, and that dominance isn’t a virtue – but it is a reality in relationships.”
“So what, because men are physically stronger they get to boss around their mates?” I demand hotly.
Sinclair chuckles, flashing his fangs and clearly enjoying my indignation. “You have to remember that shifters are very primal beings. Whatever instincts humans once possessed have been socialized out of you. You’ve been completely detached from your inner animal. But for us? Our inner animal controls everything, our instincts drive everything.”
“And everyone else has to submit?” I guess, feeling a shiver run down my spine. “Even to their lovers?”
“Especially to their lovers.” Sinclair smirks. “For she-wolves, the best mate possible is the one who can best protect and provide for them. Their instincts drive them to test potential partners in order to figure out who is the strongest. They need to feel their mate’s dominance to know they’re safe, to satisfy their own inner animal. Only then will they submit.” Sinclair shares. “That’s part of why I think you’d make such a good wolf. I think you have some of those same instincts. You may not realize it, but you often test your limits with me, the same way she-wolves test their mates to ensure they have the strongest partner.”
“So all that talk about discipline… that was serious? Literal?” I squeak nervously.
Sinclair is up now, crossing the limo to sit beside me, invading my space with his big body. “Yes.” He rumbles deeply. “It was. Does that scare you?” I don’t know why, but for some reason, his ominous manner makes me think he wants me to say yes, he wants me to be scared. Oh Goddess, what do I do now?
______________________
Sinclair
Ella’s eyes are adorably wide, and she’s squirming in her seat. However she doesn’t look afraid, she looks intrigued – curious. I can see her thighs clenching reflexively, and I can smell the beginnings of her arousal. My wolf howls in triumph. The gendered nature of shifter power dynamics might outrage Ella’s human values, but she clearly craves a strong mate just like any she-wolf – whether she realizes it or not. Her body has always responded to my dominance even when her saucy little mouth argues against it.
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