Chapter 375 – Frozen

Ella

I scream—a senseless, agonizing wail—the moment the woman rounds the corner and I lose sight of my child. The sound is horrifying, even to my own ears, but I can't stop myself as I hurl myself against the ice that holds me.

A nurse stumbles into view, blood streaming down her face. She glances at Hank, crumpled on the floor, at me, frozen to the ground, lets out a sob, and runs away.

Away from the priestess, who must be injuring people in her haste. My scream abruptly stops when I see Hank twitch, then push himself to his feet.

“Hank!” I shout, desperate. “Please, Hank!”

He moans, turns to me, blinking, then gasps as if piecing things together. “Ella!” he shouts, frantic, looking around wildly.

“No!” I gasp, staring at the door. “Go! She took him! She took Rafe! Go get the baby!”

Hank nods, struggles to his unsteady feet, and rushes out the door. I lose sight of him and let out a desperate wail. There's nothing I can do.

The ice burns with its cold, and I shiver uncontrollably, yet I'm held so still I can barely feel myself shake. Desperate, wailing, panicked, I close my eyes, searching for a solution.

But there's nothing. I'm frozen—my son is gone, my sister is wounded in the next room, and my mate is on a mission that, I fear, is going badly if Xander was this far ahead of us. There's nothing I can do. Sobbing, I do the only thing I can think of: I close my eyes, enter that state, and scream inwardly for my mother.

Sinclair

I clench my jaw, refusing to voice the moans and groans clawing their way out of my throat. They'd serve no purpose. Roger knows how bad I am, and he's the only one here to hear me anyway.

But the thought of Ella in danger, with Rafe…

I can't bear it. I have to be with them, even if I'm useless. And I know Roger feels the same.

We're nearing the city, the clinic. I force myself to watch the scenery blur as Roger speeds through the turns.

Going to the car was a terrible decision. Roger hesitated only briefly, noting Ella's text instructing us to go to Dad—that there was an attack.

But we both knew we had to reach them—Cora, Ella, our children. It's what our father would have wanted. Still, beyond the pain, fear gnaws at me. Was our father even alive?

I close my eyes briefly as we approach the clinic, offering a silent prayer for Dad. I'm grateful he got Ella, Cora, and Rafe out through the trapdoor, but damn it, why had I been so shortsighted? Why hadn't I included a second, accessible entrance?

“Steady,” Roger says, slowing the car. My eyes snap open as we approach the clinic. “Dominic, what’s the plan? Burst in? Or—”

But as Roger pulls up, our plan reveals itself. A robed figure, long hair streaming behind her, dashes from the building. I tense, recognizing her instantly: one of the Goddess's priestesses—Rafe's baptism officiant.

She carries a baby. As Roger parks, I throw open my door.

The baby's cries confirm it's Rafe. Before I can act, a second figure sprints after the priestess, demanding the child.

My eyes blaze. It's Hank.

I roar, flinging myself from the car, but collapse to my knees as my wounds protest, shattering through me with pain.

I press my hands to the asphalt, focusing on pulling myself together. But I hear Roger moving. With effort, I raise my head, watching as a snarl rips from Roger as he chases after the priestess and Hank, who's caught up with her. My wolf goes wild as I see Hank punch the priestess, causing her to drop Rafe. Hank snatches the baby, holding him close.

But just as he secures Rafe, Roger's fist slams into Hank's jaw. Hank shouts, moans, and stumbles back as I struggle to my feet. Something's wrong.

Hank reaches for Roger, protecting Rafe, as Roger punches him again. Hank falls to his knees, but even as Roger reaches for the baby, Hank begs him to stop.

I take shaky steps closer. I hear Hank's plea.

“Please!” he shouts. “You don't understand, Roger—she's trapped El—”

But Roger, blinded by fear for my son—and perhaps a desire to kill Hank—ignores him. He rips Rafe from Hank's arms.

Then I understand. Hank isn't trying to take the baby. He's trying to save…

I gasp, but before I can shout, I watch in horror as my brother hands the baby back to the priestess. “Here,” he growls. “Hold the baby while I finish this—”

“Roger!” I scream as the priestess, with a too-sweet smile, takes the baby. “Roger, no!”

Roger spins, confused, as Hank shouts and points at the priestess. But Roger is the last to understand as he sees her already running, halfway gone, my baby in her arms.