Ella
“Ella, Ella wake up.” Sinclair’s urgent voice invades my dreams, just as the ground begins to tremble beneath my feet. As I’m wrenched awake, I realize the ground wasn’t trembling at all, instead my sleeping body was being shaken by my mate. Sinclair’s handsome face hovers above my own, his eyes glowing as his hand rests on my shoulder. “Come on baby, we’ve got to go.”
“I– what? What do you mean?” I mumble groggily.
“We’re under attack, we have to go, sweetheart.” Sinclair explains, pulling me up. “There’s no time to take anything with us, just get dressed.”
“But I don’t understand, under attack from who?” I ask, feeling as though my mind is dragging. When we went to bed tonight we’d been overjoyed with our victory at the press conference, thinking we were out of the woods at lon
