Ella and I worked the rest of the morning. I made the major medical decisions, taking Rafe from her when she needed a break. I watched, mesmerized, as she healed each patient. Though I expected jealousy—my sister was a far better doctor than I ever was—I felt only exhilaration at this incredible power we possessed.

This was especially true considering Roger's announcement a few hours earlier: a planned attack that night. He and Sinclair were, once again, risking their lives to stop the man who threatened our family.

The mere thought of Ella's ability to help them if they were injured...

I closed my eyes—Rafe sleeping soundly in my arms, Ella tending to her next patient—and dismissed the thought. If I dwelt on what might happen tonight…

I'd never let him go. A warm presence beside me made me smile, even with my eyes closed. I knew instantly who it was. Opening my eyes confirmed it: my beautiful mate stood beside me, smiling down.

"Hello, gorgeous," Roger murmured.

"Are you talking to me?" I asked, "or the baby?"

"Well," Roger said, looking down at Rafe, "he's cute, but I'm not sure I'd call him gorgeous."

I laughed, shaking my head. Roger smiled and gently touched my cheek. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, it's easy for me," I said, grinning and nodding toward Ella. "She does all the work."

He chuckled, and we both watched Ella work her miracle. "Can you take a break?" he whispered, "When she's finished?"

"Why?" I whispered back, confused, but still watching. "Do you need something?"

"No," he replied, shrugging slightly. "Just...a lull. I wanted a moment with you before we get ready."

My stomach churned, but I nodded, taking his hand. A break would be good.

When Ella finished, we quickly discussed a short break to talk to our mates. She readily agreed, taking Rafe and hurrying to find Sinclair. Roger took my hand, and we followed them to our small barracks room.

He didn't bother turning on the light, simply closing the door and leading me to the bed. I was pleased—pleased to want what he wanted: a quiet moment alone. Roger lay down first, and I nestled close, my head on his chest, my arm around him.

"How's the baby?" I murmured. Roger took a deep breath; I knew he was closing his eyes, focusing on his bond with Rafe.

"Baby's doing good," he sighed contentedly, pulling me closer. Then, with a touch of chagrin that made me laugh, he added, "I think this baby's going to be a workhorse like you. It's getting all your 'busy means happy' messages. You're a bad influence."

I laughed, playfully hitting his chest. "What," I asked, "do you want the baby to be lazy like you?"

"To begin," he countered, "I am not lazy. I merely prioritize and enjoy my downtime. You could benefit from some laziness, Cora." He ran a hand slowly across my shoulders. "I could make it worthwhile," he murmured suggestively.

I snuggled closer, feeling my spirits lift. "I think you might be right, Roger," I began, but he gasped.

"What?" he asked dramatically, "A Sinclair admitting a Reina is right?!"

I laughed, snuggling closer. "Don't tease me," I murmured, "or I won't do it again." He laughed and relented. "But yes," I sighed, "I think I've thrown myself into my work to feel productive, useful. But I think..." I hesitated, gathering my thoughts. "I think this little baby will have enough of that as it is."

"What do you mean?" Roger asked, worried but interested.

"Well," I considered, "Rafe was conceived because a man wanted a child with royal, goddess, and Sinclair blood. And while our baby was...more spontaneous," I smirked, remembering our conception, "I can't help but think..."

"That something conspired to bring us together," he sighed, nodding. "That insane storm the day you were ovulating."

"Yeah," I sighed, hugging him tighter, a little afraid. "And..."

"What?" he encouraged.

"Well," I whispered, "I was thinking about Ella today, watching her use our mother's gift. And I was holding Rafe. Roger...I think Xander wanted Rafe mainly for his royal blood, but the fact that he's a goddess's grandson has been underestimated. And our child will be too. What if these children have access to the same gift as Ella..."

"Do you have the gift?" Roger asked, curious.

"I can wield it," I said, "when Ella passes it to me."

"Why didn't you guys get two?" he asked. "I don't know," I said, frowning. "Maybe one was enough. Or...maybe because Ella asked for it in the desert."

"Do you want it?" he asked quietly. "If you asked your mother for your own gift...would you want that?"

"I don't know," I whispered, considering the question. "On one hand, it would be wonderful to save lives like Ella. But also...if it means the baby would inherit it..."

"That kind of pressure," he murmured.

"And that kind of target," I added, shaking my head. "I just don't know, Roger."

"Well," he said quietly, moving closer until our faces were near. "Why don't we go to your mom and ask?"