On Mom Time Now

For the next two weeks, Sinclair and I got very little sleep. Our precious, darling, wonderful, amazing bundle of joy tortured us until we were mindless drones, desperately trying to decipher his wants and fulfilling them instantly.

"Oh my god," I said to Sinclair one night at 3:00 a.m., desperate with anxiety and sleep deprivation. I paced the room with Rafe pressed close to my chest, trying to comfort him. "He's been fed, changed, burpedhe's probably just sleepy! But he's keeping himself awake with all this noise!"

"It will be all right," my ever-patient mate said, holding out his arms. I passed the baby to him, and Rafe instantly quieted.

This was the moment I simultaneously discovered the best and worst thing in my life: my mate is a baby whisperer, and my child loves his dad more than he loves me.

Of course, I was so exhausted I didn't really care that Rafe quieted in Sinclair's arms and not mine. I was just glad he was quiet. "Okay," I whispered, slowly backing away as if from a live grenade. "You just hold himjust like that"

"Ella," Sinclair said, giving me a tiny scowl. "Don't be ridiculous—it's not as if—" But he took one step toward me, and Rafe began to cry. I froze. So did Sinclair. Slowly, he took a step backward. Rafe quieted.

"Right there, Dominic," I whispered, backing toward the bed. "Just stand there fortwo, three hours" I murmured as I climbed into my messy nest. "And I'll see you bothlater"

"This is ridiculous, Ella," Sinclair half-whispered, but he didn't move. I barely heard him as I almost immediately fell asleep. We were both completely at Rafe's mercy. He was the alpha now.

When I woke up a few hours later, the sun was peeking into the room. I raised myself on my elbows, looking around. Sinclair had made his way to the rocking chair in the corner and was sleeping there, the baby lying in a bassinet pulled close. I smiled to see that Sinclair rested a large hand on the edge of the basket, ready to respond if Rafe made a move or a sound.

I chuckled and shook my head, wondering at the power this little baby had over us. I pulled myself out of bed and went to look at them—my gigantic mate and my tiny baby, next to each other. They looked so alike—their coloring, some of their features—and yet so incredibly different. My heart ached with love.

I stretched and decided to let them sleep, quietly padding out of the room and going down to the kitchen. This, oddly enough, had become where I spent most of my time because I was constantly hungry. I had assumed my hunger would abate after giving birth and no longer growing a twelve-pound baby in five months, but I was still voracious. I headed straight for the pantry, grabbing a large box of shredded wheat and a king-sized candy bar. I peeled open the candy bar as I went to the counter and poured the cereal into a bowl.

Slowly munching on the candy, I wondered if I would be this hungry for the duration of breastfeeding Rafe. I looked down at myself, considering that I was relatively lucky—my body had bounced back fast, at least health-wise, probably because of my wolf biology and my mother's gift. My figure hadn't returned to its pre-pregnancy state—I didn't care about that—but health-wise, I felt as fit as ever.

Smiling, I said a little prayer of thanks and went to grab the milk from the refrigerator.

"Chocolate?" someone asked, and I shrieked, jumping and spinning around, searching for the intruder. I was still panting when my eyes landed on Roger, grinning from the doorway. "Chocolate for breakfast? What kind of role model are you being for your child, Ella?" he teased.

"First of all," I said, brandishing my candy bar, "I'm eating this for him, because he demands it. And also, I'm eating shredded wheat!" I gestured toward my cereal bowl. "So healthy!"

Roger laughed and hugged me. "Eat whatever you want, Ella. Just don't bankrupt my brother to the candy company."

"No promises," I replied, returning to the fridge for the milk and heading back to my bowl. "Why are you here so early? We don't need you until nine."

Roger raised his eyebrows and tapped his watch. My eyes widened in disbelief, and I glanced at the stove, which read 9:08. "Oh my god!" I exclaimed, looking back at my brother-in-law. "We're so late!"

He shrugged and leaned against the counter. "It's all right, you're on mom time. It's understandable."

"No, it's not!" I said, tossing the milk back in the fridge 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 followed, calling after me, "I think they'll make an exception for you, Ella! For the woman who ended the war!"

"No excuses for being late!" I called over my shoulder, pushing through the door into my room. "Sinclair, quick! We overslept!"

An hour and twenty-two minutes later, we arrived at our appointment at the temple, just barely on time. Cora was already there, waiting anxiously on the steps. She rushed over to me the moment we stepped out of the car.

"Ella!" my sister hissed. "You're late! You left me here all alone, with all the wolves!"

I frowned. "We're not late yet," I huffed, unhooking Rafe's car seat. "And since when do you care about being alone with wolves? You're alone with wolves all the time."

"Yeah, you, Sinclair, and Rafe," she murmured, glancing awkwardly at the temple. "Notstrangers."

I looked at her carefully as I straightened, Rafe's car seat looped over my arm. He was, thankfully, quiet and calm. "I didn't know you were uncomfortable, Cora," I said softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "I justdon't like being late."

I nodded, studying her. Only since the war had Cora felt this way about being a human among wolves. Had her breakup—or was it even a breakup?—affected her this much? I was about to ask, but Roger appeared.

"Hello, Cora," Roger said softly. "It's nice to see you."

Cora didn't say anything, just looked at him with disdain. I raised my eyebrows, looking between them. They hadn't seen each other since Rafe's birth—but they had been fine together that night.

What did I miss?