Accidental Surrogate, Chapter 351: Coral

Roger gave a rough, sarcastic laugh. “Jealousy? Cora, this has nothing to do with jealousy.”

“Then what is it?” I asked, confused. “Honestly, Roger—if it’s not jealousy, why don’t you want Hank to take over for me and treat these men while I rest?” Roger fell silent, at a loss for words.

Ella suddenly laughed, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Roger growled and glared, but she shook her head apologetically, still unable to suppress her laughter.

“He’s not jealous,” I said defensively to Ella, prioritizing loyalty over truth. I worked hard to keep a smile from my face as I stood close to Roger, slipping an arm around his waist. I was secretly pleased that Roger wanted me all to himself, that he was protective enough to not want Hank near me. “He’s just…” I hesitated, smiling up at Roger and shaking my head. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m done with the two of you,” Roger growled, removing his arm from my waist and glaring at us. “Sisters,” he scoffed, pointing a finger between Ella and me. “I’ll stay up all damn night treating these men myself, if necessary. But no Hank in the bunker. Are we clear?”

“Yes, baby,” I murmured, moving close to him and laughing as I wrapped my arms around him. “Whatever you say.”

“Damn right, whatever I say,” Roger muttered, still slightly agitated. After a minute, he whispered, “We’ll send them out as soon as Sinclair wakes up. The ones you want to receive further treatment? I won’t stop them, just because…I don’t want him here.”

“Okay,” I whispered, resting my head against his chest and smiling softly. “That’s a good plan.”

Ella

We worked for hours. Cora was practically falling asleep on her feet, but I couldn’t leave her; I didn’t want to burden her with healing all the men from the mission.

We did send three out—Sinclair contacted Hank, arranging for the most seriously injured men to be transferred to the hospital once Cora stabilized them. Even so, there was an incredible amount of work left: changing bandages, checking vitals, ensuring everyone was fed and hydrated. We were lucky Sinclair had foreseen this possibility and stocked the bunker with ample medical supplies.

Finally, Roger and Sinclair told us to stop. I was leaning over a sleeping patient, checking his healing progress, when a warm hand rested on my hip. I didn’t jump—either because I had no energy left or because I knew who it was. I don’t know which.

“Enough, Ella,” Sinclair’s rumbling voice said. I turned to look at him, then down at our baby, Rafe, curled against his chest. Rafe was awake, blinking at me with his sweet eyes.

“Hey, baby,” I murmured, reaching for him. Sinclair easily passed Rafe to me before guiding me toward the door. “But—” I looked over my shoulder at Cora, reluctant to leave her, but Roger was talking to her, his hands on her shoulders, apparently convincing her it was time for bed.

“It’s all right,” a voice called. I turned, surprised to see Henry at the door. “I’ll stay up.”

“But you’ve been up all day,” I murmured as Sinclair and I approached him.

“I’m an old man, Ella,” Henry said, smiling and gesturing for me to bend down so he could see the baby. As I obliged, he continued, “What time I have left in this world, I’d like to spend awake. I don’t want to miss anything.” He gently brushed Rafe’s cheek before smiling at me again. “Go to sleep—I’ll wake you if anything happens and we need you.”

“All right,” I said, standing and yawning hugely. As we started to leave, Henry called, “Sleep well, but in the morning…we have to talk.”

I hesitated, wanting to ask why, but Sinclair put a firm hand on my shoulder. “Talk tomorrow,” he said, exhausted. “Tonight? Sleep.”

I rested my head on my wounded mate’s shoulder and let him lead me to our room. In the cold morning light, I woke before Sinclair and took a moment to examine him while he slept. The burns were mostly restricted to uncovered skin. I quickly checked his face, arms, and hands, relieved to see that while there were some tender pink spots and taut skin, he looked much better than yesterday.

I sighed in relief and swung my legs off the bed, turning to Rafe, who was beginning to fuss in his makeshift crib.

“Hello, little boy,” I murmured, lifting him into my arms. Joy filled me as I looked at him. He was a good baby—he still woke at night when needed, but in the mornings, he had a remarkable tendency to wake just after me. “Are you using your little wolf senses?” I whispered, carrying him to the bed and adjusting my shirt to feed him. “Are you giving Mommy a break?”

He didn’t reply, of course, but as I sat down, Sinclair’s hand rested on my thigh, letting me know he was awake but not yet up. I smiled, pleased and understanding, letting him have a moment of quiet before I fed my baby, savoring the slow start to the morning.

Because I knew it was going to be a very busy day, and considering Henry’s warning, one in which we would receive unwelcome news.

The morning’s peace didn’t last long. While still feeding Rafe, a knock came at the door. Sinclair groaned, got up to answer it, exchanged a few hurried words, then closed the door and went to the bathroom for a shower.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Fine for now,” he said, “but Hank sent reports from the hospital about how our men fared during the night.”

“Are they okay?” I whispered anxiously.

“They’re stable,” Sinclair responded as he entered the bathroom, but the tightness in his voice told me it wasn’t entirely good news. My heart sank for him, realizing how difficult it must be to send men into life-threatening situations. I sighed, finished feeding the baby, tossed a burp cloth over my shoulder, lifted Rafe to my chest, and patted his back as I moved to the bathroom door to peek at my mate.

I couldn’t help the thrill that ran through me when I saw Sinclair in the shower, the water cascading over his powerful, naked form. I knew it was inappropriate to be aroused at that moment, but…well, I couldn’t help it.

He turned, perhaps sensing—or smelling—my desire, and smirked as he quickly soaped his body.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“A little too much,” I replied, precisely as Rafe burped and spit up on my shoulder. We both laughed at his timing. Then I looked seriously back at Sinclair. “You’ll tell me? How I can help?”

My mate met my gaze seriously. “I will. Thank you, Ella. For being so selfless. For always wanting to help.”

I smiled and winked. “It’s not completely selfless,” I replied, shrugging. “I was promised six more babies, after all. Gotta keep you happy until I get the last one, and then I’ll be done with you.”

“Six!?” he called as I walked away, making me laugh. “I thought we agreed on four!”

“Now it’s eight!” I shouted back, laying Rafe on his changing table and getting him ready for the day, listening to Sinclair groan from the other room.

“Daddy doesn’t mean it,” I whispered to the baby as I changed his diaper. “If your siblings are all as cute as you, we’ll have twelve.”

Rafe cooed and chuckled as we heard Sinclair shout from the bathroom, “I heard that!”