Chapter 210 – Reunited

Sinclair

It all happened very slowly. I heard the deafening noise, felt the excruciating heat of the blast, but when the explosion hit, my body was thrown from the car. I remember sailing through the air, feeling as though I were traveling through water, as flames and entropy eviscerated the vehicle I’d just been in. I hit the ground hard, my head slamming into the earth and knocking me unconscious.

When I woke, I was lying at least ten meters from the blast radius. My head rang, acid churned in my stomach, and I stumbled back toward the burning cars in a daze. I don’t know how much time had passed, but my men were little more than charred husks, and the vehicles were nothing more than tangled knots of molten steel.

I vomited onto the ground, emptying my stomach and fighting back the horror. I loved my men like brothers, but if I stopped to process their deaths, my own life might be forfeit. I didn’t know if the danger still lingered—or even its source, though I could certainly guess.

I quickly checked myself for injuries, noting the pain in my aching ribs and the blood seeping through my torn clothes. Every breath rattled. I abandoned all thought of going to the Storm Forest pack. My would-be assassin might be waiting there, in case the bomb failed. My phone was lost in the wreckage, and I was in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles from anyone I knew and trusted. So I set off into the wilderness, letting the sun and moon guide me back toward Gabriel’s city, not allowing myself to stop or rest.

I was terrified this wasn't an isolated threat, that similar nightmares might have befallen my family… my mate. I needed answers, but I needed to get back to them faster. I considered seeking Ella in my dreams, but feared that if I slept, I might not wake for hours, leaving my loved ones vulnerable. So I forced myself onward, until at last the crystalline lake and gleaming outline of the capital came into view.

I called out to Ella, and though my heart leaped gloriously when she responded, I was so weak I could only think her name. I tore into the city at top speed, ignoring the gasps and shouts of the shifters I passed. When I finally saw my beautiful mate, fighting tooth and nail to escape her guards, I shifted back into human form.

I felt on the verge of collapse, but I unleashed my remaining power and found the strength to stand. “Take your hands off my mate.”

Shock reverberated through Philippe. His grip loosened, and Ella scrambled free, running into my open arms.

“Dominic!” she cried, hugging me so tightly my broken ribs screamed. But I didn’t make a sound. I swung her legs up, cradling her against my chest as she buried her face in my neck, breathing in my scent. “I knew you weren’t dead! No one believed me, but I knew!” she sobbed, pulling back only to look at me. Concern immediately replaced her joy. Before she could speak, I claimed her lips with my own.

Mine, my wolf sighed in my head. Mine, mine, all mine.

I had no control left, so all my love, longing, pain, sadness, and fear poured forth. Ella received it all with utter generosity and passion, yielding her soft mouth to my exploration. She made sweet sounds as I ravished her with my lips, teeth, and tongue, returning my passion and threatening to rouse my arousal in the middle of the public square.

Naughty mate, my wolf purred through our bond, and Ella only shuddered and pressed closer. Reluctantly, I pulled away. “I missed you, trouble,” I purred, wishing I had a free hand to explore her tummy, and instead sending my love for my son through our bond. Rafe replied with pulses of excitement and affection, though I sensed him holding back slightly.

“I missed you more,” Ella insisted, stroking my jaw with a mischievous glint in her golden eyes.

“Wanna bet?” I chuckled, kissing her again, never wanting to let her go. The last few days had been unbearable—not knowing what I’d be coming home to… if there would be anything left.

“Dominic?” My father’s voice broke the reverie, and I remembered we weren’t alone. I looked up to see Dad wheeling toward us, tears and amazement plain on his face. I set Ella’s feet on the ground and fell into my father’s arms.

“Dad,” I breathed, feeling like a boy again as he kissed my hair and rubbed his hands over my injured body.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he admitted thickly, his face twisting as he delved into our bond. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll live,” I replied, tears burning in my eyes as I felt his grief, a grief I understood better now that I had a son of my own. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your mate,” Dad replied, releasing me to reach for Ella. Her warm body snuggled beside us, and my heart swelled.

“It seems we all should have listened to Ella,” a new voice said from above. “She’s been a bloody terror since it happened… but she was right,” Gabriel informed me, his voice devoid of any harshness. The King stood above us with a wide smile, and even my mate’s glare couldn’t dull his joy.

I left Ella in Dad’s arms to hug Gabriel and Philippe. Then Roger charged from the palace gates, wearing an expression I’d never seen before. “You bastard!” My brother was all aggression, pushing me back. “You scared the hell out of me. Where the devil have you been!”

“Roger—” Dad tried to intervene, but I beat him to it. I ducked Roger’s next attack, threw my arms around him, and restrained him. He gradually softened, clutching my shoulders and leaning his head against mine.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” he sniffed bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I won’t.”

“I love you, you dummy,” he added begrudgingly, and I laughed, the motion sending pain searing through my abdomen. I hissed, trying to contain the agony.

At once, Dad and Ella pulled us apart. Ella nudged under my arm, as if to support me. She pressed her hand to my chest. “Your ribs are broken, you should have said!” Her worry flooded our bond, though she tried to hold it back.

“I’m alright, sweetheart,” I assured her, though my wince betrayed me.

“You’re dead on your feet,” Dad corrected, looking at Gabriel. “We need to get him inside. He needs a doctor.”

Roger and Philippe moved forward as if to carry me inside, but I waved them off. “Call the doctor. But I’m walking in on my own two feet, with my mate beside me.”

“Your mate isn’t even supposed to be out of bed,” Philippe informed me coolly, sending a scolding glance at Ella.

She glared back and stuck out her tongue. For the first time, I realized she looked worse for wear. She wore only a nightgown, her feet were bare, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She said she knew I wasn’t dead, but these events had clearly taken their toll. I felt guilty for not noticing sooner, and curious about what the clever minx had done to put the King and her guard in such a grumpy mood.

I shrugged, slid my arm around her, and lifted her. “Then I’ll carry her.”