Accidental Surrogate, Chapter 378: Rebuild Ella

"Hey, handsome," I said again, this time in the real world. A smirk played on my lips as Sinclair's eyes fluttered open. We were lying pressed close together in the small hospital bed, so I could see every twitch of his eyelashes as he focused on me.

He didn't speak at first, just stared as he took a few deep breaths. Then, slowly, he lifted a hand toward my face, sliding the knuckle of his index finger down my cheek. "Hey, trouble," he murmured, his voice raspy from disuse.

A happy grin broke across my face. Seeing him awake and aware was thrilling; I could barely contain myself. But I forced myself to remain still, to avoid grabbing him, to let him adjust to consciousness in his battered body.

"Rafe?" he asked, worry in his eyes as memories of his last conscious moments returned.

"He's fine," I said softly, gesturing with my chin toward my mate. "He's asleep in the room with us." I whispered, "He missed you. He doesn't like it when you're not around to hold him." I wrinkled my nose and playfully glared at my mate. "He likes you better."

A chuckle shuddered from Sinclair's lips. "Does not," he murmured, staring intently at me, as if he couldn't get enough of my face. "You feed him and sing to him. When you leave the room, he looks for you."

"Really?" I asked, surprised and pleased. I hadn't known that.

"Well, he's not alone," Sinclair smirked, leaning forward to press his forehead against mine. Joy pulsed through me; having him back felt incredible. "You're the center of our world, Ella. We all turn to you."

"Good," I sighed contentedly. "I like my boys obsessed with me. Makes it easier to boss you around."

Sinclair chuckled, then pulled back slightly, frowning. I sighed again, this time in resignation. Our stolen moment of peace was over; he needed to know what had happened since he'd been unconscious.

"The priestess?" he asked.

"Dead," I said solemnly. "Roger killed her the moment after you knocked her down."

"And Rafe is…?"

"He's perfectly fine," I said, unable to suppress a smile. "Though I want to hear more about how you caught him in the air with your teeth without leaving a mark on him, Dominic."

"Dad skills," he said with a smug shrug that made me laugh. Then he continued, "Cora? Dad?"

"They're both okay," I said, my eyebrows raising at the memory of using my gift to heal Cora, and then the less pleasant memory of Henry's arrival at the clinic, terribly battered and needing extensive care.

"It's a long story," I sighed, "but they're both fine now. And so are you, by the way," I added, giving him a gentle push on the shoulder. "Seriously? Not curious about your own condition?"

"Well, I assumed that," he murmured, experimentally rolling his shoulders and glancing down at himself as much as he could see in the small bed. "I'm not in pain anymore…"

"But you were asleep for three days, Dominic."

"Really?" he asked, surprised. "But you… healed me? With the gift?"

"Yeah," I said quietly, watching him carefully. "I patched you up almost immediately, then Hank and Roger helped get you inside—you're very heavy," I informed him with a playful glare that made him laugh.

"So why was I asleep?" he asked, smiling.

"Apparently, I can fix you up," I said, "but I can't create new blood or restore lost energy." I paused, letting the worry of the past three days show on my face. "It was really bad, Dominic. If I hadn't been there, if my gift had still been bound…"

He shook his head and pulled me close, my head tucked under his chin. "You saved me, Ella," he sighed into my hair. "I can never thank you enough. You're a miracle."

"I can't lose you, Dominic," I said quietly, my voice trembling as I held him tight. "It was so scary. We can't keep living like this. We have Rafe now—and the rest of our lives. I don't want to do this anymore."

"I know," he replied, nodding. "I'm so sorry, Ella. Never again. You're right, it's not worth it. I can't keep putting my body on the line like this. Peace, now. Peace."

"Do you promise?" I sighed, desperately hoping he meant it—because that's all I wanted: my mate, my baby, and peace.

"I promise," he said. "I swear it, Ella."

"Okay," I said, clenching my jaw against the blossoming hope. I wanted to believe him so badly… but I knew this wasn't over. There were still loose ends to tie up.

Sinclair was still holding me when we heard the soft creak of the door opening. I lifted my head, peering over his arm. I smiled when I saw Hank peering into the dimly lit room. It was late evening, but I'd drawn the blinds.

"Hey, Hank," I said, sitting up.

He smiled, then blinked in surprise at Sinclair. "Is he awake?" he asked. "Did calling for him in the dream finally work?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding happily as I leaned forward and smiled at my friend while Sinclair also sat up.

"Hey, Hank," my mate murmured, looking ruefully at him, which made me laugh. "How's your jaw?"

"It's fine," Hank said, giving my mate a smirking glare as he took the chart from the end of the bed and flipped through it. "Roger apologized, though I don't think he enjoyed it much. How are you feeling?"

Sinclair let the awkwardness pass, taking a deep breath and stretching his arms high. "Rested," he answered simply.

"Good," Hank said, putting away the chart and looking Sinclair up and down. "Well, there's not much for me to do," he said ruefully, crossing his arms. "Your mate has made my job obsolete."

"Has she?" Sinclair asked, grinning proudly at me.

"Yes," Hank replied as I swung my legs off the bed and went to Rafe, who was still napping in his bassinet. "She healed you with a goddess's gift, then you slept, then she fetched you from your unconscious state in a dream state. None of which is standard medical procedure," he shrugged casually, "but… I'm starting to get used to this family's bizarre healing methods."

Sinclair chuckled and leaned back against the pillows, looking seriously at Hank as I picked up my sleeping baby and held him close.

"I owe you an apology, Hank," Sinclair said quietly. "We all do. Well, not Cora," he tilted his head. "To be fair, she never suspected you'd joined the cult of a dark god."

"And me!" I interrupted. "I only suspected for like, thirty seconds! And then I was team Hank!"

Hank laughed quietly, shaking his head and holding up a hand. "No, I get it. I mean, I was offended at first, but once Ella and Cora explained it, and I got to see Roger grovel a little," he smirked, "which was quite satisfying. I understand."

Hank tilted his head and looked seriously into my mate's eyes. "I do hope," he said quietly, "that any doubts you had are now gone."

"I saw how you chased the woman who kidnapped my son, Hank, how you tried to get him back," Sinclair said seriously, holding Hank's gaze. "I saw what you did for us, and I know what you've done. You have this family's faith and gratitude forever."

Hank nodded. "Friendship," he said quietly, "would be enough."

"Well, you have that," I assured him, smiling. "Forever, too."

"Good," Hank said, smiling at us both. "Because there's still a lot of work to do, healing this nation. And together, I think we could do a lot of good."

And as I stepped to Sinclair's side, smiling at our friend, I felt a renewed excitement about getting started.