Ch. 291..300

Chapter 291

Slowly, I breathe through my contractions, taking deep breaths in through my nose and huffing them out of my mouth. The pain is…well, I suppose I can’t say like anything I’ve felt before, can I? Not after all I’ve been through in the past five months. But it’s incredible, the way it radiates through my body, making me grit my teeth against it.

I can feel my body moving, changing along with the contractions. The pain in my pelvis, particularly, is insane, as the bones shift to make room for the baby to pass through. My eyes flash open during one particularly difficult contraction and I hear myself cry out against the pain. God, I would have thought that being a wolf made this easier – wolves seem to have a whole litter of pups without much trouble, by themselves out in the woods.

Passingly, I consider shifting into my wolf form to ease this

But then, suddenly, Sinclair bursts into my room, dashing for me.

“What,” he gasps, almost skidding to the side, looking me all over for what is wrong. “What is it, Ella – I heard you scream –”

“No,” I say, gasping a little as the contraction starts to come to its end. “No, it’s just the contraction – god, Dominic, these suck – ”

He shakes his head, still panicked, trying to put it all together as he kneels by the side of the bed and takes my hand. “Cora is coming, she’s close,” he murmurs. “She’ll be allowed in.”

“And Hank?” I ask, looking at my mate. “And Roger?”

“Roger?” Sinclair asks, confused.

“Yes, Dominic! Roger! I want him here as well!”

“Why?” Sinclair’s eyes are wide with wonder now.

“Because!” I smack his shoulder, frowning at him. “He’s the child’s uncle! And his godfather! He should be here! I can’t believe you didn’t call him!”

“Ella,” Sinclair sighs, reaching for the cell phone in his back pocket as I lean back on into the pillows, taking deep breaths. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about propriety while you’re giving birth with insurgents outside

“This is going to be as perfect as I can make it for Rafe!” I snap, determined. “And if I have to give birth in a war zone with no epidural, then Roger can damn well get out of bed and come over here to greet his nephew!”

“Oookay…” Sinclair says softly, giving in without any further questions. I hear him tapping on his phone and then he shifts. I watch him stand, leaning over me. Frowning, he leans over and grabs one of the pillows from the other side of the bed, quickly taking the pillowcase between his two hands and ripping off a long strip,

“You know you don’t need to do the linens thing and boil water that’s just in the movies. I’m sure Cora will bring something else to sterilize any instruments she brings-”

“It’s not for that,” he murmurs, leaning down and wiping the sweat from my brow with the little square of pillowcase folded in his hand. “How are you, love? How do you feel?”

I relax back as much as I can against the pillows, the next contraction not starting yet. “I feel… determined,” I say, gazing up at him. “Rafe is ready. He told me so. We’re both ready.”

“That’s my girl,” Sinclair says softly, taking my chin between the fingers of his big hand and gazing at me. “So strong.”

I nod at him, willing myself to believe it too – that I’m strong even though I’m scared and in pain. I am strong. For him, and for Rafe, and yes – for myself – I can be strong.

“Ooooh,” I say, pressing my eyes shut again, my hands

Sinclair gets on his knees by my side again, steady and tense. Then, as I start to breathe in that special way Cora made me practice, he breathes along with me. He’s there with me, every step.

Time passes quickly this way, with long stretches of pain followed up by a few minutes of respite. Unfortunately, those minutes are coming closer and closer together. I’m moving through this birth process fast, and I don’t have any control over it. If I could wait, just hold him in while we wait for Cora to get here…

But no, it seems like Rafe and my body have other plans.

Sinclair talks softly to me throughout the process, helping me get ready in the moments between contractions. He helps me change into a cotton nightgown instead of the travel clothes I was wearing on the way here. He brings me two cool cups of water, one for drinking, the other for dipping more strips of pillowcase in to lay across my hot forehead. Throughout it all, my mate is all attention and support.

But beneath that, I can see on his face the worry and guilt that he’s done something horrible in not getting me to the hospital. I hold his gaze steadily whenever I can, letting him know, silently, that we’re all going to be all right. We’re going to make it.

I don’t know how much time has passed when the door bursts open. Cora flies into the room, panting, a medical bag slung over her shoulder. I almost spill the glass of tap water Sinclair just handed me all

over myself as I give a little shriek of surprise when she bursts in.

“Ella,” she gasps, dashing over to me, almost bowling Sinclair over in her singular focus to be at my side, to look me over and assess my condition.

“Steady,” Sinclair murmurs, a little frustrated, as he puts out a hand to balance himself so that he doesn’t go sprawling on the floor. Cora ignores him.

enture

“Ella, love,” she murmurs, her eyes sweeping over me. “Tell me what’s going on

I need to know.” She puts a hand on my stomach, feeling for the baby. “He’s low…” she murmurs as I fill her in on the timing of my contractions – three minutes apart now – and the aches and pains.

survey of my

“Everything sounds normal, Ella,” she says calmly, looking at me in the eye so that I can see her faith. I hear Sinclair give a great sigh of relief, but I keep my eyes on my sister. She breaks my gaze, though, and starts peeling back the sheets. “I need to take a look. Can you lay back all the way?”

I do as she says, clearing the pillows so that I can lay flat on the bed and allowing my sister to examine me. As she does, I look up at Sinclair, who takes my hand.

“Well,” Cora says quietly after a few minutes. “I don’t have all of the tools I would like to make a full assessment, but,” she sits up and looks me in the eyes, giving me a big grin. “Ella, you’ve moved through this remarkably fast. From what I see, you’re ten inches dilated and ready to start pushing.”

Her grin broadens. “Are you ready to have this baby, sis?” Cora asks, reaching forward to take my other hand.

“Really?” I gasp, my eyes going wide. I look between my sister and my mate. “No way – it’s too soon

“It’s time,” she says, “believe it or not, but it’s time.”

“But,” I struggle to sit up and Sinclair offers a helping hand. “Hank isn’t here yet – neither is Roger

“Roger,” Cora snaps, frowning at me a little. “Why is he coming?”

“What is with you two,” I ask, baffled, looking between my mate and my sister. “Why is everyone so shocked that I want the baby’s uncle to be here when he’s born?”

“We just didn’t think of it, love,” Sinclair responds, brushing the damp hair away from my forehead. “Our concentration is on you.”

I open my mouth to respond but a sudden surge of pain hits me and I groan, turning my attention back to my belly, my core, where I can feel my child pressed low against me. Ooohhhh,” I say, hunching my shoulders forward. “Oh, it’s a big one.”

“They’re all going to be big now,” Cora says, perhaps a little too cheerfully. “Come on, Ella. It’s time to push.”

 

Chapter 292

I'm gripping my sister’s hand, gritting my teeth and groaning through the first of my pushes, when the door bangs open again.I don’t open my eyes — can't look - Quite frankly, at this particular moment I don’t care who the hell it is - if it's Hank, or Roger, or insurgents coming to kill us — all I care about is the horrible, tearing pain within me as I work to bring my baby into the world.I moan, throwing my head back against the pillows as I pant, feeling the pain subside a little bit.

"How is she?"

I hear Hank ask, and I open my eyes to see him there next to me.I try to give him a little smile, failing a bit.

"Hello, Ella," he says softly, his voice warmer than I'm used to.

"You look like you're doing great." mI murmur my thanks to him as he turns his attention back to Cora, getting a full report, and I shift my gaze to Roger, who stands awkwardly across the room.

"Roger," I say, putting my hand out to him, inviting him closer.

"Hello, Ella!" he calls, awkward.

"Happy...happy birth. Or whatever."

Sinclair starts to laugh quietly.

"Come over, Roger," he demands and Roger sighs, hanging his head and deliberately choosing not to look at me as he comes to stand with his brother.

"What," Sinclair asks him as he arrives at his side.

"More of a cigars in the waiting room kind of guy?"

"Yeah," Roger agrees, giving his brother a little glare.

"I'd say that’s much more my vibe."

"I wanted you here," I say to him, giving him a tired little smile.

"I want you to meet the baby."

"Of course I want to meet the baby, Ella," Roger says, his voice kinder now as he meets my gaze.

"Just...when you've cleaned it up a bit. Gotten some of the goop off." I laugh, a little, but groan when I feel the pain start to return.

Cora climbs up onto the bed for this one, cursing a little at the lack of stirrups and the soft surface of the mattress that makes it harder for her to see what's really going on.

Roger tries to muffle his groan as he turns away, which perversely makes me want to laugh in one of the more painful and trying moments of my life.

Hank quickly takes Cora’s space at my side, Sinclair solid a solid force next to my head.

"You've moved quite quickly through this, Ella,"

Hank informs me as the contraction ends and I pant, working to catch my breath.

"This is rare, even for a wolf birth. But you should be in the final parts of it now," he says, patting my knee and giving me an encouraging smile.

I smile back at him but note, interestingly, that Cora rolls her eyes at him a little bit when he says this. I have no idea what that could mean - is there trouble in paradise? - but honestly, any of my interest in

that question is immediately wiped out when the pain comes again.

This continues for a few rounds, of me huffing and pushing with all of my might during the contractions and then resting, as best I can, in the short spaces between them. I can feel my baby moving inside me, progressing along.

It’s hard, agonizing work, but my sister calls encouragement to me and my mate is by my side through every moment of it, steadily holding me together.

After what feels like an endless repetition of this pattern, Cora gives a little gasp.

"Okay, he’s almost here!" she says, and the cheer in her voice is a balm to my agonized body.

I look at her with hope in my eyes and she gives me a happy little nod.

"One big push, sis, and his head will be born, and then it’s easy after that!"

I take a deep breath, looking up excitedly at Sinclair, happy despite the pain ravaging my body.I wait for the next contraction and, when it comes and Cora tells me to, I push - absolutely as hard as I can, giving a guttural yell while I do in that I hope will help me push through, bring him home.

"Oh, his little head!"

Cora says, smiling at me, "he’s here, Ella! Just a couple more to bring forward his body next!" I nod, eager, and begin to push again. And push, and push. I gasp, laying back and panting as I feel the contraction end, and I look to Cora for instructions. Instead of a happy smile, though, I see her exchange an odd little glance with Hank.

"What," I demand, working to sit up and moaning at the pain that shoots through my back.

"What's wrong? Where's my baby?"

"Is something wrong?" Sinclair asks, suddenly tense next to me.

I can tell by his voice that he’s working, so hard, to stay still and steady, to let the doctor's do their work. Inaction and the passing of responsibility to another - no matter how much they outstrip him in their expertise - has never been his strong suit.

My mate wants to be involved.

"Um,"

Cora hesitates, "it’s okay, Ella - he’s almost born - but..."

She and Hank hesitate and exchange glances again, then looking down at the baby. I struggle to sit up, to see the child, but my sister shakes her head at me, leaning forward to press me back to the pillows.

"Please," I beg, my eyes fixed on Sinclair.

"Please, you have to tell us."

Cora sighs as she sits back and I see that her face is worried.

"Ella, he didn’t make any progress in the past few pushes. Which is sometimes a sign that..."

"There is some worry,"

Hank continues, "that because he’s such a large baby, that he could be...stuck."

"Stuck?" I gasp, suddenly horrified.

Sinclair goes rigid next to me.

"It’s common," Hank says hurriedly.

"Lots of women experience this with large babies. It’s called shoulder dystocia — we think his shoulder is trapped up behind your pelvis."

"What?" I gasp, confused, baffled, horribly worried.

"What do we -"

"It’s okay!" Cora says, though her worried voice belies her words.

"We're trained for this -"

Then, my sister moves across the bed until she’s next to my head.

She puts a steady hand under my shoulder, pulling upwards.

"Come on, Ella, you need to change your position before the next contraction comes -— I'm going to move you on your side to shift your pelvis, and then —"

"Don't tell me -"I gasp, moving with her.

"Just do it."

I look up into Sinclair's worried eyes, knowing mine are a mirror for his.I nod to him, letting him know that it’s okay, and praying - deep inside me - that it’s true.I send a little pulse of love to baby Rafe, but he doesn’t send anything back.

He is, predictably, distracted. I moan in pain as Cora shifts me onto my side and then begins to press on my stomach just above my pelvis when the next contraction starts.

"Good, Ella, keep going..."

I hear Hank murmur as I pant and push and shout at the pain of it.

And then, a few moments later, "No progress, Cora — I'm going to cut — "

"All right,"

I hear Cora say, her voice shaky, though my eyes are pressed shut. I hear a roar from Sinclair at the same moment that I feel the cold press of metal against me.

His hand rips from mine, but I don’t know where he goes, and the metal slices further down by the child, eliciting a slow and guttural scream from my throat.

But then, suddenly, there is a lack of pressure low on my body where there wasn't before and I feel my shoulders collapse and the sudden lack of need to push. I’m still wracked with agonizing pain but I blink and work to sit up as I hear the cry of a baby fill the room.

Rafe.

Rafe is here.

I gasp, looking for him, seeing a little form in Hank’s bloody hands.

I reach for him but feel quite suddenly woozy and, before I can hold my child, I collapse back against my pillows.

 

Chapter 293

It’s agony for me – obviously, more for my mate, I’m sure – but watching her survive this is ripping me apart.

I struggle against Roger’s grip – he shouldn’t be stronger than me, he’s never stronger than me, I should be able to break away – but something about all of this has just taken it out of me. I am weak, now, watching my mate struggle for her life, watching my son take his first breaths, that rips the energy from me. I gasp for breath, panicked, looking between my Ella and the baby in the doctor’s hands.

“Relax,” Roger commands, his voice low behind me as he holds me back with a hand on each of my arms. “Let them work. You can’t do anything right now. They’ll call you when they need you.”

I know he’s right, but the impulse – I have to do something –

Still, I stand with my brother, letting him take control as I watch Hank and Cora moving, blessing them in my mind with every breath that pants from my lips. Ella lays back against the pillows, pale, breathing faintly, apparently half conscious and half out.

The pair of doctors move fast. Hank glances over the crying child and then quickly hands him to Cora, reaching for the medical bag that sits on the bed between them. Cora does a quick inspection of the baby and then hastily cuts the umbilical cord. Then, she meets my eyes.

“Come and take your child, Dominic,” she demands, wrapping him hastily in the scrap of a pillowcase that I tore to pieces not long ago. “He’s fine – but Ella needs both Hank and I right now.” Roger releases my arms and I move forward, my eyes half on my beautiful Ella as I take the baby from Cora’s hands. I can’t – how can I greet my son when his mother –

“The child,” Cora says, holding my gaze for a brief moment before turning back to Ella. ” Concentrate on the baby, Sinclair. We’ve got Ella for now.”

And so I do. I look down at my infant son, crying his lusty little heart out, waving his little tiny fists in the air. Something in me takes over something I’m not sure I knew was there – as I begin to shush my child, to rock him, to try to bring him to a peaceful state in this scary new world. Slowly, softly, I raise my hand to wipe at the liquid on his face, to clear it, marveling at the fact that his entire head is completely dwarfed by the size of my palm

And then, following an impulse that’s totally new to me, I lean forward and bring my face close to my sons, pressing a kiss to his head and taking a deep breath of his new baby scent, totally new and, somehow, already totally his own. “Welcome, baby,” I murmur.

From the corners of my vision I can see Cora and Hank working swiftly with their medical supplies, Hank sewing quickly while Cora crouches by Ella’s head, taking her pulse and smacking her cheeks a little.

When I hear Cora call Ella’s name, my attention snaps away from Rafe and to the sisters on the bed. “Ella,” Cora says, and I see my mate – oh, thank god – I see her blink, and focus on her sister, her face ashen and white. Unbidden, I come to Ella’s side, determined to be with her – to give her everything I can.

Cora ignores me as I take my mate’s hand, the baby curled in the curve of my other arm.

“Ella,” Cora demands, steady. “It’s time to access the gift. You need it. Ask her to heal you.”

Slowly, Ella nods her head and closes her eyes. But I don’t know if that’s because….because she’s accessing the gift? Or something else…

Something much much worse. I open my mouth, panicked, to call her name, but Cora snaps her attention to me and shakes her head.

And so I close my mouth, and squeeze my mate’s hand, and let her do her work.

Ella

It’s terribly hard to do anything right now to think, to concentrate, to communicate – let alone enter the calm meditative state I need to access my mother’s gift.

My body is wracked with pain, and I don’t know whether it’s blood loss from Hank’s medical cut, or some sort of tear within me, or…something else. But my vision fades in and out from a hazy view of the palace bedroom and utter blackness.

But still, in the brief moments when I can concentrate, I see Sinclair standing by my side, feel his hand in my own, and see our little baby wrapped up in a sheet in his arm –

Just as he was in the dream state

And I find new determination within me. So, working hard to steady my breathing, to not slip into oblivion, I close my eyes and work to access that state.

It’s harder than it’s ever been but, eventually, I get there. I watch the insides of my eyelids fade from black and red to that cool lavender, and I feel the balm of my mother’s gift begin to wash over me from the inside. Passively, I wonder what my family is seeing –

I wonder if I’m glowing, as Cora was, that day by the temple steps.

Or if, perhaps, they can’t see anything at all – if the gift is working inside me, and they’re just holding their breaths, hoping that I’m not…I’m not slipping away…

I feel it take hold of me, though, like a mother’s welcoming arms. I feel cradled within its warmth, and can almost hear her – the Goddess, my mother whispering to me that she will make it right.

– That for all I’ve given the world, I have earned this, and that she will make it right.

The magic runs slowly through me like rainwater through grass, seeking the roots of me, wanting to refresh but taking its time getting there. But as it seeps through every inch of me, I feel slowly renewed. I feel an ease return to me.

When I open my eyes, everyone is standing around me, staring at me, their faces shocked. I take a deep breath and look around at the four of them. But I ignore them all, focusing only on the bundle of white blankets resting on my mate’s arm.

The little baby. Who is not crying.

“Rafe,” I cry, working hard to sit up, a little rill of pain shooting through me. I grimace at it – apparently, whatever the goddess‘ gift did, it didn’t fix me completely – but mostly I ignore it, reaching for my son.

“It’s all right, Ella,” Sinclair says, quickly kneeling by my side and offering my son to me. Tears slip down my cheeks and I’m surprised to find that I’m suddenly sobbing as I take my baby into my arms for the first time.

As I lay my eyes on my child’s face.

“Baby,” I whisper–cry, my chest heaving as relief floods through me to see that he is fussy and unhappy, but not sad, not hurt – just….adjusting to his new world. He flinches angrily as my tears fall onto his perfect little face, making me laugh. “Sorry, baby,” I murmur, brushing them away. Sorry about that. Mama’s not always like this.”

“It’s all right, Ella,” Sinclair whispers quietly behind me. “He’s safe – you’re safe a few tears on his face are not the worst part of his day –”

“Poor little baby,” I sob, a smile breaking out on my face even as I cry, my whole body a mix of emotions happiness, and guilt, and worry, and joy – all mixing together so that I don’t know who or how I am anymore.

Except, I know that I’m a mother. I’m his mother.

That, finally, I know is true.

“Let’s give them a minute,” Roger whispers. “Would that be all right?”

I hear Hank murmur his medical assent and look up, suddenly, to see the three of them moving away Cora climbing off the bed and beaming at me.

“We’ll be back soon,” she whispers to me. “You’re fine, Ella – the gift did its work. You just….take a minute. Say hello to your child.”

I nod, smiling back at her and wiping away my tears. And then, the three of them troop out of the room together.

And I’m left alone, with my perfect little family.

My mate, my son, and me. Complete.

 

Chapter 294

“And I am leaving immediately,” Roger adds in, making us all laugh. “Seriously,” he says, “I’m useless until the kid is old enough to throw a ball. Then, it’s all Uncle Roger.” (2

I smile at him, pleased, and take his hand to squeeze it, letting him know how glad I am that he came. His eyes soften as he looks at me, and I know he feels the same.

“All right,” I say, sighing and climbing into the bed. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Then, everyone goes to their work, Roger and Hank leaving the room and Cora sitting next to me to help me through the first steps of breastfeeding. Sinclair sits close by, clearly interested, but not interfering as Cora shows me how to help the baby latch. I feel a whole new rush of emotion as I feel him begin to suck, as I feel the milk start to flow and feed my baby.

“There,” Cora says softly, and I look at her with tears in my eyes. “See? You’re a natural.”

“Where should he sleep?” I ask, looking around, suddenly desperate. We don’t have a basinet, of course.

Cora just shrugs. “You’ll figure it out. Use your mom instincts. People were having babies for thousands of years before hospitals came to answer these questions for them about how to have their first night.” She grins a little wickedly at Sinclair and me. “I don’t think you two are going to get much sleep anyway, but…you’ll figure it out.”

I laugh a little and return my gaze to my baby, whose eyes are closed as I hold him warm against my chest. “That’s right, baby,” I whisper. “We’re going to figure it out.”

“Okay,” my sister says, standing and giving me a kiss on the forehead. “You’re a marvel, Ella,” she whispers. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll see you at the hospital tomorrow.”

I nod, but don’t look at her, instead staring at my son. My new baby, this much- and long–desired child who is finally, finally here.

I feel the weight of Sinclair’s body on the bed next to me as the door clicks shut behind Cora, but I don’t take my eyes away from Rafe as Sinclair wraps his arms around me.

“Well,” Sinclair sighs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “This is the start of a whole new era. Are you ready for it?”

“Oh,” I say, turning my head to grin up at my mate, eager. “I’m ready for it. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”

I’m exhausted as I push through the doors of the palace but I also feel oddly…complete. It’s more than the general happiness I feel after one of my patients safely delivers a healthy child. Of course, that’s normal, I think, considering that it’s my sister.

But still, there’s something…else in the air. More than just a job well done. I reflect, suddenly, that maybe it’s the knowledge that I have a new little nephew now, to raise and to help discover the world. There’s something wonderful in that.

I make eye contact with one of the guards standing at the bottom of the steps, wanting to make sure that it’s safe to leave, and begin to take a step when he waves me forward. However, I jump when I hear the voice behind me.

“So,” it says. And I know without turning who it belongs to. I turn, meeting Roger’s eyes. “I hear we’re going to be godparents together.”

“Oh?” I ask, watching him as he walks slowly over to me, his hands sunk deep in his pockets.” Well, that’s not much of a surprise. The two lone siblings of the father and the mother.”

“Yes,” he says, coming to stand close to me. Close enough that I can almost feel his words as breath on my cheek, as well as hear them. “But only one of us is the daughter of a deity. I think Rafe is making out better on his mother’s side.”

I can’t help the little laugh that spills out of me at that, and I look down at my feet. “Well,” I say, a little awkward. I haven’t talked to Roger in weeks, let alone this casually. “I suppose that’s up for debate, considering I’m a human amongst the wolves.”

“Cora,” Roger says, hesitating, and I see his hand reaching for mine. I flinch away.

“What?” I ask, suddenly mad. “What are you even doing here? Weren’t you so eager to get home?”

Roger hesitates and then pulls his hand back, perhaps wanting to pretend like he never reached but for mine. He gives a casual little shrug, looking out at the newly–quiet city. “The troops quelled the riots, but that doesn’t mean that everyone went home and no one’s lurking in the dark wanting to make mischief.” He looks at me then, pausing before he continues. “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“Well, I’m fine,” I snap, turning away from him and heading down the steps to where my car is parked. “Thanks for the thought, but I’m fine.”

“Cora,” he calls after me, his voice full of regret.

“What!” I snap again, turning to glare at him. “What, Roger! I don’t need you to protect me! I don’t need this!”

“You don’t need what?” he asks, challenging me. “You don’t need help getting home? Or you don’t need me?”

“God damn it, Roger,” I growl, almost through my teeth, shaking my head at him. “Seriously? Now? You want to dig into this now, after months of silence on the subject?”

“What subject, Cora?” he asks, his voice angry now. “The absolute nothing that is us?”

I open my mouth to throw his words back at him, but he’s too quick for me.

“And even if I wanted to,” Roger pushes, “how could I? You’re always with him.”

“Oh?” I ask, sarcastic, my eyes going wide. “Is that the great barrier? Have you never heard of this thing called a phone?”

“You wanted to have this conversation over a phone, Cora?” Roger asks, closing the distance between us, his voice hurt now as well as mad. “That’s all you think it deserves?”

“What conversation?” I hiss. “Like you said. It’s the nothing that is us. There’s nothing to say.” I grit my teeth and turn then, heading back down the stairs, fast and mad, wanting to get away

from him. Certainly not wanting him to see the new dampness on my lower lashes.

“You killed this, Cora,” Roger shouts after me, apparently not caring who hears. “You did this. Not me.”

Anger flares in me now, so intensely that I halt in my steps. Then, acting on rage more than logic, I spin and throw myself back up the stairs towards him, stopping when I’m so close to him that a single breath would heave my chest against his.

Then, I raise a single hand, place my splayed fingers against his chest, and push.

He stumbles back, I think more out of surprise than any real strength in me. He’s a wolf, anyway. And I’m just a human.

“F*ck you, Roger,” I whisper, knowing that he can hear me. “You did this. I was in. And you stopped calling me.” (2)

“I was busy –” he protests, “trying to fix the nation

I laugh, shaking my head and turning away from him. “Whatever excuse you want to make,” I call over my shoulder, still angry but doing a better job now, I think, of hiding it and playing it cool.” But don’t blame me just because I didn’t wait around for you after you ghosted me.”

“Cora!” Roger calls, and, well, even if there is pain in his voice I don’t care anymore. Or at least, I walk away like I don’t.

I give him a finger over my shoulder and call, more casually than I feel, “I’ll see you at the christening.”

I roll my eyes when I hear his retort.

“Werewolves don’t have christenings!”

“Whatever!” I respond, pulling open the driver’s door to my car and sitting down heavily in my seat. I don’t look in my rearview mirror as I drive away.

I don’t want to know if he watches me leave. Don’t want to see the expression on his face.

Because if I see that he’s as devastated by this conversation as I am, then…

And I am determined. Determined not to go back.

 

Chapter 295

I groan when I wake up, but I don’t open my eyes. Not yet. I feel like I just closed them ten minutes ago anyway – my poor eyeballs need more rest.

Instead, I take a moment to feel my body from the inside out, to check in with myself and see what hurts, what feels good. I’m surprised to find that I can feel remnants of my mother’s gift running through me – what feels like little sparkling tendrils of sunlight, working through my limbs, perhaps healing me. I smile to think of it, smile to think of my mother giving me something that lasts after so many years of her absence.

She is a mother goddess, after all the mother to us all, not just me. But still, as my actual mother, it feels nice to finally have…a piece of her.

I hear my little baby give a little cry and my eyes fly open, searching for him. I sit up in bed, a hand going to my head, and look blearily around..My eyes are drawn instantly – unsurprisingly – to the huge werewolf standing across the room, bouncing a little bundle of blankets in his arm. I smile at my mate’s turned back and quickly climb out of bed, moving towards him.

Sinclair hears me coming and quietly turns, our little boy still fussing a little in his arms.

“Has he been like this long?” I ask, yawning, reaching for my child. Sinclair transfers him into my arms and I feel a quick rushing thrill at the feel of my baby returned to me.

“No,” Sinclair replies with a smile. “He’s been sleeping well – he just started crying now. Do you think he’s hungry?”

I shrug and look up at him. “Probably. I know I am.”

Together we carry Rafe back to the bed and I climb in, rearranging my top so that Rafe can try to eat. Sinclair quietly watches as I work and I let out a little sigh of relief when Rafe quickly latches and

begins to suck. I watch him for a moment, instinctually doing a little check on our bond and receiving a little push of happiness and satisfaction back from him.

Suddenly, I begin to wonder something.

“Do you still have a bond with him?” I ask Sinclair, my eyes going wide.

He nods easily, his eyes still on the child.

“Do you still have one with your father?” I press further, curious. This brings his eyes up to me, frowning.

“Thave….a bond with my father, certainly,” Sinclair responds. “But no – as you grow, the bond between parents and their children fades a bit. Once a child is able to speak and communicate their needs on their own, it’s not necessary anymore.”

My heart breaks a little bit at this news and Sinclair clicks his tongue and reaches out a hand to cup my cheek when he sees tears fill my eyes.

“I don’t want to lose my bond with my child,” I say, my voice trembling. “I can’t bear the thought of that

“You won’t” my mate assures me, shaking his head. “It just…changes. You and Rafe will always be tied, just in different ways. Besides, when he grows up and meets his own mate, do you really want to be feeling what he’s feeling?” Sinclair raises his eyebrow at me and gives me a smirk.

I narrow my eyes at Sinclair and then down at my little baby. “No mates for you, Rafe,” I scold. You’re mama’s boy, forever. I’m keeping you.‘

Sinclair laughs. “You’ll feel differently when he’s a big hulking teenage wolf stinking up your house.”

“No,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss my baby’s head. “I’m going to raise him to be a nice clean nerd, so no one likes him, and I get to keep him. No one will be good enough for him anyway.” “All right,” Sinclair murmurs, shifting his position on the bed and coming to lay next to me, closing his eyes. “Whatever you say, trouble.” I smile at him, watching him drift off to sleep as the sunlight starts to brighten at the edges of the curtains. I suspect that he stayed up all night, rocking the baby in his arms, in order to let me sleep. So it’s the least I can do now to let him have his own rest.

–

Rafe falls asleep again soon after he finishes, and my baby pressed warm against my chest – I begin to drift off into a little half–daze as well. About an hour later, though, a little knock comes at the door, waking me. I hesitate and stand, not knowing what to expect, but as I move towards the door I see it creak open a little crack, someone peeking in.

“Oh, Dr. Hank!” I whisper, cheerful, stopping in the middle of the room and waving him forward. Come in!”

He does, giving me a warm smile, and glancing at Sinclair asleep in the bed. “How are you, Ella?” he asks, curious. He comes and looks down at the baby, reaching out a finger to stroke his cheek.

“We’re doing well, I think.” I reply, heaving a big yawn. “He’s been surprisingly peaceful. Is that… normal?”

“It’s not abnormal,” Hank says with a little shrug. “Perhaps just lucky. The ambulance is outside waiting – are you ready to go to the hospital for your checkup?”

I nod, eager, suddenly feeling more awake. After a quick discussion, I agree to meet Hank at the palace entrance in a few minutes, after I wake Sinclair. He nods and goes out to let the guards and paramedics know the plan. Then, I move over to the wolf sleeping in the King’s bed.

“Dominic,” I whisper, running a hand lightly through his hair. “Wake up. Time to go.”

“No,” he murmurs, rolling over with a groan. “I’m going to be the king anyway. This is my bed. I’ll just… stay here, until the coronation.”

Пlaugh, and then look around, a little surprised that I hadn’t thought of that myself. I knew, of course, that these were the royal chambers, but all I really thought about was that they were the dead Prince’s bedrooms…not that they could one day be my own. As I look around, I find that I have mixed feelings about the prospect. While I like the idea of always having access to the room where my son was born…

The idea of living here, in this place? Where there was so much violence?

Of being the queen of a world torn apart?

Of raising my son, and hopefully my future children, in that world?

I bite my lip, suddenly anxious about it.

“Hey,” Sinclair says, and I feel him reach up to softly brush my arm. “All right?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling down at him, Rafe’s warm little body pressed against me. “Just…mom worries. I think I’ll be having a lot of those, for the rest of my life.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Sinclair murmurs, standing up from the bed and coming close to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me close against his chest. “We’re going to get it all sorted, Ella,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head.

I close my eyes, giving a little sigh, believing him but…knowing that that promise is going to be a hard fill.

 

Chapter 296

When we climb out of the ambulance, it seems like a whole team of doctors are waiting for us. I smile at them, a little anxious, as they come forward to escort us into the hospital and run us through our battery of checks. At my side I feel Sinclair shift into his Alpha protection mode, looking at everyone warily, glaring at anyone who comes even close to me and the baby.

I smirk when I notice it, glancing’up at his stern and dangerous expression, but I don’t dissuade him. Honestly, I kind of like it.

We are escorted quickly into a private room where Hank quickly consults with a panel of experts, clearly ordering a ton of tests. As he works, a smile breaks onto my face as I see Cora turn the corner.

“Cora!” I call, waving to her, Rafe fussing in my arms. Sinclair even glares at Cora as she approaches, though she gives him a curious little look that makes him check his expression.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m feeling…protective.”

“Understandable,” she says, smiling and reaching for the baby. “Where is my little boy!”

“Heeere,” I sing, carefully handling over the little bundle to his auntie. We dressed him, before we left, in the little cream sleep sack that we had packed in the hospital bag.

“Cutieee,” Cora coos, holding the baby close and peering down at his little face. She beams at him for a moment before looking up at me. “First night go okay?”

I tell her the details of our first night while Sinclair stands firmly at my side, letting me communicate everything. As I speak, Hank and his team begin to break up, preparing the various checks and treatments that I’ll be receiving today. Then, he comes over to us.

“Okay, Ella,” he says, giving me a smile. “The plan is that me and my team are going to ensure that you’re perfectly healthy. And Cora and hers are going to make sure that Rafe is in top shape. It’s going

to take awhile but,” he glances up at Sinclair quickly and shrugs, “I thought it best to check everything, rather than skimp.”

“Damn right, you’ll check everything,” Sinclair growls, crossing his arms over his chest.

I look up at him and put a hand on his arm. “You need to cool it, Dom,” I murmur, giving him a little smile. He sighs and nods, making me laugh. I can tell that he’s on edge, fighting his new dad instinct to do everything he can – absolutely everything to protect his vulnerable mate and newborn child.

“It’s all right,” Hank says, smiling between us. “You’re in good hands.” Then, he nods at Cora, pausing a moment to place a warm hand on her back between her shoulder blades. I blink, a little surprised, when she simply nods and flinches away from his touch a little bit..

What’s this? I think to myself, a little happiness building in my stomach. But then I chide myself for being happy that there might be discord in my sister’s new relationship. You’re team Cora, I remind myself. Team Cora, whatever that means for her. That’s what side you’re on.

But inside of me, my little wolf turns in a smug little circle, nudging me to let me know that she, at least, knows that I’m lying to myself. But I give her a little nudge in return and she curls up, content to see where this goes.

A few hours later, I’m dozing quietly in a hospital bed, waiting for test results.

Rafe is away in the newborn room next door with other babies who were born at the hospital yesterday and today, apparently to be monitored and to give me some time to rest, but I find that I’m restless without him near me. Still, my exhausted body takes advantage of the quiet and I do find myself dozing in and out of sleep.

Sinclair, apparently, has no such qualms about the baby being out of the room, and snores lightly next to me.

I’m instantly awake, though, when the door opens and Dr. Hank comes back into the room. “Sorry,” he says, giving me a little grimace. “I didn’t mean to wake you when you probably need the sleep.

“No,” I sigh, tucking my hair behind my ears as I hear Sinclair stop snoring next to me and sit up in his chair. “It’s all right – I didn’t sleep well without the baby nearby anyway.” I shrug. “Mom stuff.”

“Wolf stuff, too,” Hank murmurs, coming close to the bed. “It’s very interesting – studies have shown that wolf mothers do indeed sleep better if they have physical contact with their child.” He glances between my mate and me. “You two may want to consider systems of co–sleeping in a family bed.”

I beam at the idea, turning to Sinclair to see what he thinks, but he just blinks blearily at me.” Ella,” he says, “you spent hundreds of dollars on bassinets – now you want to put the baby in the bed with us?”

“In the nest!” I exclaim, excited, clutching my hands under my chin with glee. Sinclair murmurs something about us being wolves, not birds, but I ignore him, turning my attention back to Hank. So, am I okay? Can I go home?”

He lifts a clipboard from the bottom of my bed, reading through some of the doctor reports there, and then nods happily to me. “I’m happy to report that you’re doing beautifully, Ella. Strikingly healthy – perhaps more than can be expected, after a traumatic birth experience. But perhaps that can be attributed to…your gift? Or however that works.”

I nod, understanding and accepting the mystery for what it is.

“If only all mothers had access to such a gift,” Hank says, smiling at me warmly. “That would be quite a boon, wouldn’t it?”

I nod, agreeing heartily, but then I freeze, suddenly struck with an idea…

But I’m interrupted by the door opening again, a nurse coming into the room with the baby.

I give a little cry of happiness when I see my child and open my arms towards the nurse, eager to hold him again.

“He’s hungry,” she says, smiling at me. I thank her and bring my child close to my chest, preparing to feed him again. Hank, a little awkward, clears his throat and turns away from me to give me privacy.

“So, if Cora gives you the okay to take him,” Hank continues, looking up at the ceiling, “then you’re free to go. And I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” With that, he turns towards the door, ready again

to leave without acknowledging that he’s been with us again through one of the scariest and most traumatic moments of my life, that he’s become an important person to me, and that he’s dating my sister.

“Hank,” I call to him before he can leave. He turns back to me, curious. I take a moment to look him clearly in the eyes, hoping he can see the depth of my warm feelings to him. “Thank you, Hank,” I say, sincere.

He surprises me, then, by placing a hand to his heart and giving me a tiny little bow, the sort of genuflection that one would give to…well, to a queen. “It was my pleasure,” he murmurs, true warmth in his voice. Sinclair and I both smile at him in return and he turns to leave again.

But, once more, I call him back.

“Hank?”

He pauses again at the door, turning towards me.

“What, precisely,” I ask carefully, “are your intentions with my sister?”

 

Chapter 297

I hear Sinclair sigh heavily next to me, murmuring “Ella…”

But I ignore him, my eyes fasted on Hank, who blushes a deep red at the door and looks down at his shoes. I don’t say a word, though, or make this any easier on him. Instead, I wait patiently for an answer.

“Cora is,” he murmurs, awkward, “very special to me…

“I would imagine so,” I reply, my voice harder than I think I expected it to be. “She’s a very special person.”

Hank sighs and raises his eyes seriously to mine. I hold his gaze steadily.

“I’m very serious about Cora,” he says evenly. “I want to build a life with her. But we are moving… slowly. We both want to make sure that this is right.”

My heart warms when I hear him say that he wants to build a life with her, but still – what does that mean? I hold my baby closer to me and shift in my seat.

“And do you want to have childre-”

“Ella!” Sinclair bursts in, his voice angry, a hand on my arm.

“What!” I cry, turning to him with a frown. “It’s a legitimate question!”

“It’s none of your business!” He hisses back to me, his eyes wide and appalled.

–

my sister’s business is

My frown deepens as I open my mouth to object to my mate business, after all – but Hank clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him.

my “If there’s nothing else,” he says, his eyes flicking between Sinclair and I now, clearly hoping

that my questioning is at an end. I sigh, nodding, as Sinclair speaks.

“Thank you, doctor,” he says with finality, letting Sinclair know he’s free from my interrogation. “We’ll look forward to seeing you soon.” (1

I scowl as Hank leaves the room, my eyes on my baby.

“Ella,” Sinclair says slowly, admonishing. I look into his eyes, still mad.

“We need to know, Sinclair. She’s not with Roger because she thinks he wants children they can’t have. If Hank also isn’t on the same page with her about kids, then what’s the point?”

Sinclair’s eyes go up in surprise as he processes this information. “And what’s Cora’s page about kids?” he asks. “Does she want them?”

“Does Roger?” I ask, still bristling that he didn’t let me get information that I very much wanted.

He frowns a little, staring into space and considering it. “Actually, I don’t know…” He brings his eyes back to me, though. “Either way, that’s a conversation between Cora and Roger. Or Cora and Hank. Or…whoever.”

“And me,” I murmur, settling back onto the pillows. “If they’re all too stupid enough to not talk to each other about it, then I am going to talk about it.”

“Trouble is as trouble does,” Sinclair sighs, leaning back on the chair. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected any different.”

“Damn straight,” I murmur in response, smiling down at my baby. Then, I kiss him on his little head. “Don’t worry, baby,” I whisper to him. “I’ll teach you my troublesome ways. And then we’ll torture daddy together.”

Sinclair huffs a little laugh in his chair, but doesn’t bother to counter me. He knows it would be a waste of breath.

Night has fallen by the time we finally get home, all three of us exhausted by the activities of the day. But Cora finally gave us the go–ahead when Rafe’s final set of tests came back clean and we happily headed out.

When we cross the threshold into our home, I gasp a little when I see the variety of gift baskets and flowers waiting for us. “Oh,” I say, fascinated, moving forward to look at them all. Then I look up at my mate. “Did you do all this?” I ask, my eyes wide.

“No,” he says, his eyebrows also raised in interest as he checks some tags on a few of them. “ They look to be presents from friends and well–wishers. See?” He points to one filled with hand–drawn cards set neatly around a fluffy teddy bear. “This one’s from James and Isabel…”

“Oh,” I say, reaching for it, my eyes suddenly filled with sharp tears. “Oh, I miss them…” I bite my lip against the sudden rush of feelings, overwhelmed by all the love in the room when I’ve been so distracted – I haven’t even kept up with everyone as well as I should have

“No no,” Sinclair says quickly, taking me by the shoulders and moving the baby and I towards the stairs. “We’re way too tired for this – if you get into all these cards now, you’ll cry yourself to death –”

“But the teddy bear!” I cry, looking over my shoulder at it as Sinclair guides me up the stairs, a steady hand on my back. “Rafe’s first teddy – we have to get it!”

“It will be there in the morning,” Sinclair says, steady, yawning. “Now? Bed.”

“Okay,” I sigh, nodding to his wisdom and allowing myself to be shepherded upstairs. When we reach the door to our bedroom, though, my eyes fill with tears again as I look up at my mate.

“Baby,” he murmurs, taking my chin between his fingers, exhausted but wanting to be there for me. “What is it this time? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say, my voice trembling a little, looking between him and the baby. “Just…we’re bringing him home for the first time, Dominic. Putting him to sleep in his own little bed. It’s just…” I shrug, not really knowing how to put all of my emotions into words. “It’s big.”

Sinclair rests his head against mine, speaking to my soul as much as mind as he confirms this. I know, he says, simply. And so I rest my body against him – against the warm, steady bulk of him, grateful – again – to have a mate who understands me so completely. Who doesn’t think I’m crazy or overwrought.

Who understands, really, that this is all a dream to me. And that every moment of it – even one as simple as this is a miracle.

–

“Come on, darling,” he says, after a moment, pulling me further into the room. “Let’s get him settled.”

And so we do. We bring Rafe into our room, and we change him into his tiny sleeping clothes, and we feed him, and tuck him away into the rolling bassinet that I pull close to my side of the bed. And then

we each take a shower, and change into soft clothes, and curl up into bed ourselves, one of us always with an eye on our precious, adorable, wonderful little boy.

Sinclair lays behind me, my body pressed tight against his. He is propped up on his arm as he looks over me and into the bassinet at my side. I, too, look down at the sleeping baby.

“I think he’s like, really cute,” I whisper, considering him carefully.

Sinclair laughs lightly, careful not to wake him. “Of course he is.”

“No,” I say, not taking my eyes from my son. “Like, really cute. Like way cuter than most babies. And that’s not just me being his mom – I think he’s objectively…really cute.”

“He takes after his mother,” Sinclair says, laughing lightly and letting his head fall down onto the pillow, closing his eyes. I snuggle down next to him, still looking at my sleeping son.

“Yes, after me,” I murmur, pleased and a little teasing.

“So he’s cute,” Sinclair whispers. “And he’ll be trouble.”

“No,” I say, feeling myself drift off to sleep. “He’ll be perfect.”

“We’ll just see about that,” Sinclair murmurs, his breathing already deepening as he drifts off.

Fifteen minutes later, Rafe chooses a side.

And, unfortunately for me, he chooses trouble.

And he cries.

All. Night. Long.

 

Chapter 298

For the next two weeks, Sinclair and I don’t get much sleep.

Instead, our precious. Darling. Wonderful. Amazing. Bundle. Of. Joy…tortures us until we’re basically mindless drones, trying to figure out what he wants and giving it to him as soon as possible.

“Oh my god,” I say to Sinclair one night at three in the morning, desperate with anxiety and lack of sleep. I walk around the room with Rafe pressed close to my chest, trying to comfort him. “He’s been fed, changed, burped… he’s probably just sleepy! But he’s keeping himself up with all this noise he’s making!”

“It will be all right,” says my ever–patient mate, holding out his arms. I passed the baby to him and… Rafe instantly quiets.

And this is the moment when I simultaneously figured out the best and the worst thing in my life: that my mate is a baby whisperer, and that my child loves his dad more than he loves me.

Of course, I’m so exhausted at this point that I don’t really care that Rafe quiets in Sinclair’s arms and not mine. I’m just glad that he’s quiet. “Okay,” I whisper, slowly backing away, as if from a live grenade. “You just hold him…just like that…”

“Ella,” Sinclair says, giving me a tiny scowl. “Don’t be ridiculous – it’s not as if – ” but he takes one step towards me and Rafe begins to cry. I freeze like a deer in the headlights. So does Sinclair. Slowly, he takes a step backwards. Rafe quiets.

“Right there, Dominic,” I whisper, backing away towards the bed. “Just stand there for…two, three hours…” I murmur as I climb into my messy nest, “and I’ll see you both…later…”

“This is ridiculous, Ella,” Sinclair half–whispers to me, but he doesn’t move. I barely hear him as I almost immediately fall asleep. We’re both completely at Rafe’s mercy. He’s the Alpha now.

When I wake up a few hours later, the sun is peeking into the room and I raise myself on my elbows, looking around. I see that Sinclair made his way to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and he’s sleeping there now, the baby laid flat in a bassinet pulled close. I smile to see that Sinclair rests a large hand on the edge the basket, though, ready to respond if Rafe makes a move or a sound.

I laugh a little to myself and shake my head, wondering at the power this little baby has over us. I pull myself out of bed, though, and go to look at both of them my gigantic mate, my tiny baby, next to each other. They look so alike – their coloring, some of their features, the and yet so incredibly different. My heart wrenches with love to see them there. same

I stretch my arms over my head and decide to let them sleep, turning to quickly and silently pad out of the room and go down to the kitchen.

This, oddly enough, has become where I spent most of my time now because I am constantly – constantly – hungry. I had assumed that my hunger would abate after I gave birth and was no longer growing a twelve pound baby within a five–month span, but I am still voracious. I head straight to the pantry, reaching for the big box of shredded wheat as well as a king–sized candy bar. I peel the latter open as I head to the counter and pour the former into a bowl.

Slowly munching on the candy, I wonder if I’m going to be hungry like this for the duration of the time that I’m breastfeeding Rafe. I look down at myself, considering that I’m relatively lucky – my body has bounced back fast, at least in terms of health, probably because of my wolf biology and my mother’s gift. My figure still hasn’t returned to what it was before I was pregnant – I don’t care about that but health–wise, I feel as fit as I’ve ever been.

Smiling to myself, I say a little prayer of thanks and go to grab the milk out of the fridge.

“Chocolate?” someone asks, and I give a little shriek, jumping in the air and spinning around – looking everywhere for the intruder. I’m still panting and on edge when my eyes land on Roger, grinning at me from the doorway. “Chocolate for breakfast? What kind of role model are you being for your child, Ella?” he scolds jokingly.

“First of all,” I say, brandishing my candy bar at him, “I’m eating this for him, because he demands it. And also, I’m also eating shredded wheat!” I say, gesturing towards my cereal bowl. “So, healthy!”

Roger laughs and comes forward to give me a hug, which I warmly return. “Eat whatever you want, Ella. Just don’t bankrupt my brother to the candy company.”

“No promises,” I return, returning to the fridge to grab the milk and making my way back to the bowl. “Why are you here so early?” I ask, curious. “We don’t need you here until nine.”

Roger raises his eyebrows at me and taps his watch. My eyes go wide with disbelief and I glance towards the stove, which reads 9:08. “Oh my god!” I say, looking back at my brother–in -law. “I can’t believe it! We’re so late!”

He just shrugs and leans against the counter. “It’s all right, you’re on mom time. It’s understandable.”

“No, it’s not!” I say, tossing the milk back in the fridge without pouring it and bolting for the stairs, “If we miss our appointment at the temple, we’ll never get another one! And then the moon ceremony won’t happen for another month and everything will be ruined!”

Roger follows to watch me sprint up the stairs, calling after me. “I think they’ll make an exception for you, Ella! For the woman who ended the war!”

“No excuses for being rude!” I call over my shoulder, pushing through the door into my room. “Sinclair, quick! We overslept!”

An hour and twenty–two minutes later, we arrive at our appointment at the temple, just barely

on time. Cora is there already, waiting anxiously on the steps. She storms over to me the moment we step out of the car.

“Ella!” my sister hisses. “You’re late! You left me here all alone, with all the wolves!”

I screw up my face in confusion as I give her a little glare. “We’re not late yet,” I huff, reaching into the car to unhook the baby’s car seat. “And since when do you care about being alone with wolves? You’re alone with wolves all the time.”

“Yeah, you, and Sinclair, and Rafe,” she murmurs, glancing awkwardly over her shoulder at the temple. “Not…strangers.”

I look at her carefully as I straighten, Rafe’s car seat handle looped over the crook of my arm. He is, thankfully, quiet and calm. “I didn’t know you were uncomfortable, Cora,” I say softly. ” I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I just…don’t like being late.”

I nod, but study her a little bit. Only since after the war has Cora felt this way about being a human amongst wolves. Did her breakup – or was it even a breakup? – mess with her mind this much? I’m about to ask, but unfortunately the man in question comes around the car at just that moment.

“Hello, Cora,” Roger says softly, carefully. “It’s nice to see you.”

Cora doesn’t say anything, just looks at him with a little disdain. I raise my eyebrows and look between them. I know that they haven’t seen each other since Rafe’s birth – but they had been fine with each other in the room that night.

What did I miss?

 

Chapter 299

“Welcome,” a priestess says, coming out of the temple and giving us a big smile. I return her smile eagerly, walking up the stairs carrying the car seat and introducing our party. She knows who we are, of course – nobody could mistake Sinclair for anyone else anymore, not with his face all over the media every day and his coronation imminent.

But as she nods a hello to all of us and walks us into the temple itself, I do wonder if she knows …that she’s running a temple dedicated to my mom. I mean, it’s not precisely public

knowledge, but I do wonder how much she suspects.

Cora walks next to me, looking around the beautiful open space of the temple, her eyes inevitably drawn to the gorgeous, giant gold mosaic of the Goddess built into the wall behind her altar. After she looks at the image for a moment, she turns to me and smirks a little.

I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips and I cover my mouth in a hurry.

The image looks nothing like our mom. But, I guess it doesn’t matter, and it certainly won’t do any good to tell them they’ve got it all wrong.

The priestess looks at us curiously, but I shake my head in apology, silently asking her forgiveness. She just gives us a warm smile and leads us to a set of chairs set next to a calm reflecting pool in one corner of the room.

“So,” she says, smiling at the four of us as we seat ourselves and peering down at the baby. We’re here to plan little Rafe’s dedication to the goddess, yes?”

I quirk my head to the side, curious. “I thought it was a moon baptism?”

((

She laughs a little and gives me a smile. “Yes, a more colloquial term, I think, but not inaccurate. Though, of course, he will not be sprinkled with any holy water as in a Christian baptism. Many of the other traditions, though, are similar.‘

The priestess looks to Roger and Cora now. “You two, I assume, are being presented as godparents?”

Roger nods solemnly but Cora looks anxious. I reach out and take her hand.

The priestess seems to notice Cora’s unease and gives her a smile. “That’s all right – it’s not a hard job, even though you two will have more to do than the parents. On the evening of the full moon, the two of you will take the child into the woods by yourselves – ”

“The woods? By ourselves?” Cora asks, a little aghast.

“Yes,” the priestess says, blinking at her in surprise. “Did no one tell you?”

“No,” she huffs, looking at me and Sinclair with wide eyes. “I thought we had to go to a church, hold him over a…baptismal font. Or whatever.”

The priestess shakes her head slowly, hesitant now at Cora’s apparent protest. “No, we plan the event here at the temple, but the actual ceremony occurs in the open air. Under the light of the first full moon after the child’s birth.”

“What’s the problem, Cora?” I ask, confused but working to be gentle. “You’re an OBGYN – babies are your thing you’ll be totally fine

“No, it’s fine,” Cora says, looking down at her hands, clearly flustered. “I just…didn’t know.”

The priestess looks to me, still hesitant, but I smile at her encouragingly and nod. Then, she explains the details of the rest of the process to us, answering our questions and making sure that we all know our roles. It’s a new experience for me, of course – I myself was not dedicated to the goddess under the light of the full moon. But Sinclair and Roger were, and it’s an important ceremony to usher my baby into his culture. I have to admit, I’m excited for it.

As I look at Cora, though, I’m shocked to see that she’s clearly uncomfortable. I frown, confused and a little frustrated. This was in no way out of her comfort zone, as far as I knew – all she had to do was carry a baby into the woods a little distance.

What the hell was going on?

When the priestess finishes explaining the details, she goes over some paperwork with Sinclair and I take the opportunity to talk to Cora alone.

“Cora,” I say casually, unbuckling Rafe from his carrier and lifting him into my arms. “Will you come help me? I want to feed him before the ride home.”

“Sure,” she says, unquestioning. Together, we head to the other side of the temple, to a quiet little alcove with a stone bench.

“What is going on with you?” I ask, spinning on her with a little frown when we’re finally alone.

“Wha-” she says, blinking at me, her mouth falling open. “I thought we were coming to feed the baby

“Oh he’s not hungry,” I say, waving a hand to dismiss her concern. “I just said that to get you over here. But seriously – what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she murmurs, uncomfortable, wrapping her arms around herself awkwardly.

“Seriously?” I huff, swatting at her, getting frustrated. “Cora – I can read you like a book. I know you’re upset. Just tell me!”

“Ella,” she sighs, looking me in the eye. “I don’t think you’re realizing how weird this can all be for me. I mean, the world has changed now. It was different, when werewolves were a secret and I was one human who knew. Now everyone knows, and there’s a huge rift between our two worlds! And I know that you’re a wolf now, and I think that’s great but…”

She shrugs and looks awkwardly around the temple. “But I’m a human,” she continues,

hesitant. “And it’s…weird. You should hear the way that humans talk about the wolves, and the way they look at me when I say that I…I work with wolves, and I am an OBGYN for wolf kind as well as humans.” She shrugs and my heart sinks to hear the pain in her voice. “They look at me like I’m a traitor, Ella. Some of the human women refuse to be seen by me because I work with wolves too.”

“Oh, Cora,” I murmur, taking a step closer to her and wrapping her in a one–armed hug, the baby between us. “You know that we don’t feel that way, right? You are our family –”

“I know, Ella,” she says, nodding, but still looking at the floor. “But even in this family – I know that you feel that I’m not different but,” she hesitates and then glances over at Sinclair and Roger. “I’m not sure that’s true of everyone.”

I sigh, following her gaze across the room and focusing on Roger. He, I know, is the source of it all.

What on earth happened between them?

“Has he said something to you, Cora?” I ask quietly, dying to know, but also really, really wanting to help her, to fix this rift between them. Even if they’re never…what they were. It’s important to me that they both feel comfortable around each other, for the baby’s sake.

Cora bites her lip and I can tell that she doesn’t really want to share. “Not really, Ella,” she says, thinking through it herself. “It’s less about what he said and more about how he acted. Just…when we came home, and there were more humans around, it just became abundantly clear that…we’re from different worlds. And it’s not just me who noticed it. He feels weird about it too.”

 

Chapter 300

I move quickly through the paperwork that the priestess gives us, half of my attention on Ella and Cora across the room. Rafe isn’t hungry yet I know this for sure, and I know that Ella knows too. He ate on the way here, in the car.

So, what he hell is she up

to?

I hand the paperwork back to the priestess, who gives us a warm smile and tells me she’s looking forward to seeing us on the night of the full moon. Roger and I murmur our polite goodbyes and then we both turn our attention back to the sisters.

“What’s going on over there,” Roger asks, watching them with his arms crossed.

I take a moment to look him over. His body is tense, his brow low with worry. “Why don’t you tell me?” I say quietly, my voice low and a little frustrated.

My brother snaps his head back to me, frowning. “What?”

“Come on, Roger,” I respond, shaking my head. “Don’t pretend they’re not talking about you.”

“Me?!” he says, aghast. “What did I do?” But towards the end of his sentence, his eyes flick to the floor. Guilty.

“What’s even going on with you two?” I ask, sighing, not really wanting to have the conversation but feeling pressed to it now if it’s disrupting our plans for our child’s dedication. It’s an important day – I

want it to go smoothly, undisturbed by this drama.

“That’s Ella,” Roger murmurs, shaking his head, “speaking through you. You don’t actually care what’s going on between us.”

“I do care,” I return, a little offended. “I care, Roger. But yeah…Ella has brought this…issue to my attention. More than I would have noticed otherwise. She calls you two…” I sigh, a little embarrassed, “Codger.”

“What?” he asks, confused, spinning to me. “What’s Codger?”

“Your couple name,” I say, sighing and pressing the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “A mix between Cora and Rodger.”

“Codger?!”

“It was that or Rora.”

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, putting his forehead in his hand and taking a deep breath. “You guys talk about it enough that it has a nickname?”

“She’s upset with you, Roger,” I explain, looking again at my beautiful, sweet mate, who wants the best for both of them. “I think Cora is upset. And I thought it was just Ella being Ella until…today. When I see that Cora really is upset. So, did you do something to her?”

My brother sighs again and runs his hand down his face so that it’s covering his mouth as he, too, looks across the room at this incredible pair of sisters. “I stopped calling her. I regret it, Dominic – I…” he sighs, as if having trouble putting it into words. “But it’s not easy, with her being a human. I thought it would be simpler, but it’s…”

1 nod, understanding, and put a steady hand on his back, letting him know that I’m here. You’ll figure it out,” I say, hoping it’s the right thing. He nods quietly, and I can tell that he hopes I’m right.

“But Rodger,” I say carefully. He looks up at me, a little exhausted but ready to listen. “If you mess up this ceremony…”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I hold up a hand. He shuts his mouth, letting me finish.

“If you mess up this ceremony, Ella is going to kill both of us. Just rip us to shreds.”

A little laugh bursts from my brother and he shakes his head, looking over at her. “How is that even a threat?” he breathes, wondering. “She’s so…tiny.”

“Tiny,” I agree, “but fierce. And she’s got mom strength now. So let’s just…not cross her. And do our best to make Cora feel welcome, because if Cora’s not happy then Ella’s not happy, and if Ella’s not happy…”

Roger nods slowly, lifting his hand into the air and making an explosion sound with his mouth, simultaneously opening his hand like a bomb.

“Exactly,” I respond, nodding.

We’re silent for a moment, looking over at the girls, each thinking our private thoughts. But after a moment, Roger asks a question of his own.

“Wait,” he says, frowning at me. I start out of my reverie, looking at him. “If we’re Codger,” he muses, “…what are you?”

“Nothing,” I respond, firm, looking away. “We don’t need a couple name. We’re just Dominic and Ella.”

“Della,” he supplies. I glare at him.

“Elominic?”

My glare turns into a snarl.

“Sinclella!” he says, starting to laugh. I just give him a shove, unable to help the smile that pulls at my lips.

“Shut up,” I murmur.

“Wait, no, it has to be Éclair!”

“Oh my god,” I breathe, defeated. “Don’t say that to her she’ll love it, she’ll never let it go

“I’m going to tell her right now — Roger starts across the room, but I grab his arm, laughing.

“I swear to god, Roger, one word and I’m throwing you in the pool Ella

I frown at my sister, confused and wanting to make it all better, and then I sigh when I realize that I can’t. “I guess I thought mom’s gift fixed it all,” I murmur, “after you gave it to the world. It was enough, I guess, to end the war to ask wolves and humans alike to stop fighting. But not enough to squash all of the fears and prejudices.”

Cora nods, agreeing, looking at me again and working hard to give me a little smile. “I want to be a part of your life, Ella,” she says, looking down at the baby and smiling. “And, of course, of baby Rafe’s. But if you could please try to remember that… I’m not as much a part of your world as you think I am, then that would be helpful.”

“You are a part of my world, Cora,” I insist, taking her hand and looking at her seriously. ” You’re my flesh and blood, and you’ve always been my sister, even if we didn’t know about the biological part for a long time. There’s no part of you that’s not part of my world, okay?”

She nods, giving me a little smile.

“But also,” I continue, still holding her gaze. “I hear you. And I’ll try harder.

“Thanks, Ella,” she says, her voice soft.

I pull my sister close again for a hug, the baby fussing between us. We laugh, looking down at him, and then I nod towards the group, asking her if she wants to go back. Cora nods and, taking my hand, we return again to the wolves waiting for us.

Along the way, I admit that I’m torn. Because as much as I’m glad that my sister told me what’s wrong, I admit that I feel guilty. Guilty that she feels different at all, and guilty that…

Well, that I got so distracted in the pregnancy and the birth of my son. That I didn’t even realize that my sister felt that way. That I didn’t even realize that things were this bad, between the humans and the wolves.

Sinclair and Roger are laughing and roughhousing a little, by the looks of it, as we make our way over to them. I can’t help smiling at this I like to see my mate happy and at peace. He catches my serious look, though, as I come more clearly into sight. He stops, then, looking curiously at me, quirking his head to the side. I just give him a little nod, letting him know all

Because the two of us? The leaders of these people?

We have work to do.

“Hey, Ella,” Roger says, grinning wickedly at me. “Are you hungry, do you want some breakfast? Maybe some eclairs?”

Sinclair snaps his head to him. “You’re dead.”

“Actually,” I say, my eyebrows going up. “Pastries sound great.”