Roger and I were quiet the next morning as we went through our breakfast routine in the kitchen. It wasn't an awkward silence, just… us lost in our own thoughts while remaining close.
We’d stayed up late the previous night, first attending to the baby. Roger was heartbroken that our infant child was already worried—and that we felt it was our fault. We spent a long time comforting him, sending him reassuring thoughts through our bond. When he finally drifted off to what we call sleep (though it’s probably not accurate), Roger and I breathed a sigh of relief and finally returned to the real conversation: what the hell we were going to do.
But, of course, we didn't come up with any solutions. Our experiences in the recently concluded war had already taught us that making plans rarely works.
So, we eventually fell asleep, holding each other close, whispering promises to prioritize each other and our family, even as the nation demanded more of us.
"That's weird," Roger murmured, scrolling through his phone as he leaned against the counter, coffee in hand.
"What?" I asked, turning to him and blowing on my tea. "The fact that you're actually reading your messages? That you know where your phone is? That it's charged?" He glanced up, smirked, then shook his head. "No," he murmured.
"Sinclair sent me a message telling me not to come in until this afternoon. Says he needs to sleep." My eyebrows shot up. "Wow, slacking on the job, so early in his reign." Roger chuckled and pocketed his phone. "Nah, something's up," he said. "He wouldn't take a sick day unless he really needed it. Do you think it has something to do with Ella? That crazy dinner she went to last night?" My eyes widened. "Maybe," I said, reaching for my phone, hoping she'd texted. I scowled when the screen remained blank. It wasn't like Ella to not send me ten morning texts—general greetings, pictures of Rafe, selfies with bed-head and her enormous mate lurking in the background.
"Hmm," I said, looking at Roger. "Sis is being very quiet, too." "Well," he said, smirking, setting down his coffee, and pulling me close. "Either way, it means I have the morning off. What shall we do?" "Oh, I've got some chores in mind," I grinned, putting down my tea and wrapping my arms around his neck. "Some tile in the shower needs regrouting." "That bathroom is brand new, Cora—" "Or the garbage disposal keeps making this weird noise—" "You're imagining that," he murmured, pulling me closer. "Or it's haunted, which I can't do anything about." I laughed, nudging his nose with mine. "Well then, there's a problem with the bed—" "Oh really?" he said, lifting me into his arms. I grinned, wrapping my legs around his waist, careful not to crush the baby.
"Mm-hmm," I murmured. "It's actually a problem with the sheets, under the blankets—" "Well," he said, heading for the stairs. "This sounds serious—we'll have to investigate immediately." I laughed as he carried me upstairs and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.
Roger and I thoroughly enjoyed our morning off, so much so that we were still in bed chatting hours later, wrapped in each other's arms. I played with his hair, only half-listening as he described his and Sinclair's plans for an Alpha Academy to train young wolves as officers. I was mesmerized by his lips, marveling at his handsomeness, when we heard the front door creak open and slam shut downstairs.
Roger was instantly alert, pulling me closer, growling at the door, tense and watchful. His body relaxed when Ella's voice rang up the stairs, followed by her pounding footsteps.
I sighed, pushing him gently. "Come on," I said. "We should get dressed before she—" "Speak for yourself," he murmured, leaning back against the pillows. "She's the one bursting into our house; it's her fault if she sees something she doesn't want to see—" But I stood up, threw his pajama pants at him, and grabbed a robe. I was barely covered when Ella burst in, Rafe on her hip.
"Cora!" she exclaimed, scowling. "What's wrong with you—why didn't you answer my texts!?" I shrugged. "I don't know; my phone was downstairs!" "I needed you, Cora!" she said, hoisting Rafe higher. Sinclair appeared in the doorway behind her, sleepier than Ella, but equally serious. I ignored him, annoyed with my sister.
"I'm not at your beck and call, Your Highness," I said, rolling my eyes and looking for clothes. Even though Roger was naked in bed, I wasn't comfortable with that level of immodesty. "Would you mind giving me a minute of privacy to get dressed?" "This is important, Cora!" Ella protested, crossing her arms.
"Five minutes, Ella!" I snapped, glaring at her as I went into the walk-in closet.
"Fine," she muttered, heading back towards the stairs.
"Hey, Ells!" Roger called after her. "Hey, Dominic! So nice to see you and acknowledge my presence in my own home!" "Sorry, Roger!" Ella called from the stairs. "We love you too! We just need Cora's magic for a minute!" Roger frowned at me as I emerged from the closet, dressed. "Your magic?" he asked. "What, do they need a sudden storm or something?" "Who knows," I murmured, shaking my head, then glared at him. "Would you please get dressed? This family is weird enough without having chats about magic while someone's naked." "I prefer the term 'tastefully nude'," he smirked, getting up, kissing me, spanking my bottom, and heading to the closet.