Ella “Parenting classes? Already?” I ask in surprise. “I’m only a few weeks along.” “Yes, but we only have five months to prepare, and you don’t know anything about shifter children.” Sinclair replies easily. I’m sitting up in bed with a breakfast tray in my lap, while Sinclair sits in a bedside armchair watching me like a hawk. It’s the morning after the attack and I haven’t been allowed to move a muscle, not even to vomit on my own. I attempted to free my body from Sinclair’s strong arms when we woke so that I could make a mad dash to the bathroom, but he ended up carrying me instead – holding my hair up and rubbing my back until I was finished. In fact he’s been so attentive that he took the day off of work to stay with me, and now he’s talking about going to our first birthing and