Cora and I stood silently in the bunker's garage, watching our mates pack their cars for the impending assault. Rafe fussed unhappily in my arms, while Henry, beside Cora, watched tensely from his wheelchair.
"It will be finished tonight," Henry said, nodding confidently. "I know it. The boys will finish this."
"I hope you're right, Henry," I sighed. "I don't know how much longer I can bear sending him off like this."
Henry looked at me with sympathy, but I couldn't meet his gaze; I was overwhelmed. I looked down at my baby, who was now crying.
Minutes remained until Roger and Sinclair left, and I could barely cope.
"Come here, mini trouble," Sinclair murmured, and I jumped, realizing he was near, reaching for the baby. I'd been lost in thought. Tears welled in my eyes as I handed Rafe to my mate.
He didn't immediately focus on the baby, instead putting an arm around me. I rested my head against his chest, but my eyes fell on Cora and Roger saying their goodbyes, and I couldn't bear it.
I turned away, closing my eyes.
"It will be okay, Ella," Sinclair whispered, the baby quieting in his arms as he always did. "I promise you, it will be okay."
"I know you'll do everything you can, Dominic," I whispered. "I trust you—it's the rest of the world, and what it holds, that I can't trust."
He nodded understandingly, kissing my hair before pulling away too soon.
"No," I gasped, gripping the strap of his bulletproof vest, holding him close.
"Ella," he murmured, tilting my face upward with his fingers beneath my chin. I stared up at my beautiful, tender, ferocious mate. "I'm coming back to you. Tonight. And then we'll have peace."
"You'd better," I growled, narrowing my eyes. "Or I'm going to be very mean to your ghost."
Sinclair laughed, shaking his head and handing Rafe back. He kissed me, said he loved me, and went to his car. Cora moved close, slipping her hand around my elbow.
"This is it, Ella," she said. "The big push. After this, we'll have peace."
"I feel like I've been hearing that a lot, Cora," I said, my bad spirits surfacing.
"Well," she said, her lips twitching toward a smile, "at some point, it's got to be true."
Together, we watched our mates and their team drive away. Predictably, things were simultaneously boring and tense once they were gone.
"What should we do?" Cora asked as we went into the small kitchen and sat around the table. The bunker wasn't totally quiet; many people remained.
Mostly those too ill for the assault team, or those whose skills were more research-based than combat-oriented. It was good to have others around, but we felt like the only three people in the world, united in our misery—or four, including Rafe. I sighed, looking at the sleeping baby. "You don't even know what's going on, baby," I murmured, a little jealously.
"I think," Henry said, producing a deck of cards from his wheelchair pocket, "this calls for a distraction."
Cora perked up. "Nothing says distraction like a couple hands of high-stakes poker," she quipped. I smiled; Cora loved cards. She was clever and precise enough to be quite skilled. That's how she'd provided us with pocket money and candy in the orphanage.
"Yes," I said eagerly. "Now the boys are gone, let's gamble away all their money! Show them what they get for going off to war without us."
"Only fair," Henry murmured, shuffling the cards. "What shall the buy-in be, ladies? Half a million? Each of my sons' firstborn children?"
"Why not both?" I grinned.
Two hours later, Henry had shamed us both, winning a million dollars and apparent ownership of his two future grandchildren.
"Here you go," I sighed, pretending to hand him the sleeping baby. "He's all yours now."
Henry laughed. "I'll let you keep him for now," he said, putting away the cards. "I know you're fond of him. I'll call for him when I'm ready to put him to work."
"What about this one?" Cora said, touching her still-flat stomach. She smirked at Henry. "Should we agree on a layaway plan for this one as well?"
Henry laughed, opening his mouth to reply, when a loud bang came from the hallway.
We fell silent, turning toward the door.
BOOM.
It came again, followed by the creaking of metal.
"Shit," Henry cursed—a word that made me stare at him, wide-eyed. I'd never heard him swear before.
This, more than the banging, told me something was seriously wrong.
Quickly, Henry grabbed his phone. "Nothing from the boys," he murmured, pocketing it and rolling toward the door. "Come," he snapped. "Now, Ella, Cora."
We jumped up, our hands shaking as BOOM—
Rafe was still in my arms, but I grabbed his carrier as we followed Henry. Leaving the kitchen, I saw the bunker's massive metal door beginning to peel back at the corner. I went pale, realizing someone was trying to get in.
"Oh my god," Cora gasped, covering her mouth.
"COME!" Henry commanded, wheeling down the hall past our men emerging from their rooms, heading for the door.
The hall filled with more pounding, shouts, and Henry's insistent calls. We caught up with him in the conference room, where we saw the worried faces of the few remaining men working on new plans.