Chapter 345 – Parting
Ella
I blink, surprised, when I hear a laugh tumble from Roger’s mouth. Honestly, I had expected anything else. Yelling? Yes. Begging? Sure. Stern orders? Absolutely.
Anything, really, except the low chuckle that falls from Roger’s lips as he leans back and puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m serious,” Cora says, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “I’m going with you. You need me.”
“Cora,” Roger says, shaking his head. “I need you, absolutely. But if you think for a second that I’m letting my pregnant mate climb into a sewer with me as part of an attack on an unknown enemy.
“Well if you wouldn’t let me do it, why on earth would I let you do it!” she counters, angry.
“Because I’m not pregnant!” Roger shouts back, angry, as if it’s obvious. Sinclair shifts a little, moving behind me – his arms still around my shoulders – so we can both watch.
“We’re pregnant,” Cora shouts, pointing between herself and him. “ This is not a me or a you kind of thing! I am not interested in single motherhood on what is essentially day two of this pregnancy!”
“Cora,” Roger sighs, putting an exhausted hand on his forehead. “This is my job. This is what we do. You can’t ask me to back away from it.”
“Why not, when you’re doing the same to me?” Cora counters, shaking her head at him, being stubborn. I bite my lip, torn between wanting to support my sister and frankly agreeing with Roger. There’s absolutely no way in hell that Cora should be going on this mission.
“What are you talking about?” Roger asks, frustrated. “I can help,” she says, pointing at herself, “I’m a doctor. You guys are going to get all torn up out there – you need me!”
Have we had enough of this? Sinclair asks, speaking to me mind-to-mind as I lean back against him, tense as we watch our siblings argue. When do I interrupt?
Give them another second, I reply internally, wanting them to figure this out on their own if they can. But even if it did come to something as simple as a vote? It’s three to one. Cora’s staying home. “We’re trained in field medicine.”
Roger says, waving a dismissive hand. ” It will be enough to hold us through it until we can get home – ”
“People could die!” Cora counters, you could die! And how the hell would I feel, for the rest of my life – what would I tell our child – when I remembered that I could have been there and saved you?”
Roger’s face falls at this thought and I see him falter, no knowing how to reply. And frankly I’m torn by the idea as well if Sinclair died, and I could have done something…
I don’t know if I’d survive it myself. Now? Sinclair asks me, his own inner voice dark and sad. Let me, I reply, and I step forward, putting a hand on Cora’s arm.
“Cora,” I whisper and, after a second, my sister drags her eyes away from her mate to look at me. Slowly, I shake my head, “Cora, you can’t go.”
“Why not?” she growls, stern. “Because,” I reply, with a little shrug. “Your argument goes both ways. How the hell would Roger feel if you got killed and your baby with you – and he could have kept you safe?” a
Roger audibly groans at the idea and has to turn away from us, tortured by it, raising a hand to cover his face for a moment as he collects himself. Cora turns to look at him, surprised, I think, by the rare display of intense emotion. These Sinclair brothers – they’re so steady on the surface, but we always have to remember that still waters run deep.
Cora moves towards him, placing her hands on Roger’s shoulders, turning him back towards her and wrapping her arms around his waist. She lays her head on his chest when he puts his own arms around her. “I don’t like this,” she whispers against his shirt, “I hate it, Roger.”
“I know,” he murmurs, his lips against his hair. “I’m sorry. But Cora, I promise you it will be all right.”
“Is it always going to be like this?” she asks, looking up at him. “Is this what I’ve gotten myself into? Battle after battle, fight after fight? Constantly worried about whether or not you’re coming home to me, to…us?”
I feel my own stir of intense emotions at her question, looking up at Sinclair and meeting his eyes as he shakes his head steadily at me. No, he says, firm in my mind. We will have peace. I will bring you peace. Just…a little further.
“I promise, Cora,” Roger replies, tightening his arms around her. “I promise it will be all right.”
Sinclair turns me, then, and I nod, letting him shepherd me out of the room and giving the two of them a moment alone. My mate takes my hand as we pass through the door and head down the hall, both of us silent, me looking down at my baby and feeling, I’m sure, almost precisely the same feelings that Cora is at the moment.
“Is it different now?” Sinclair asks me as we head into our little room.
“Hmm?” I ask, brought out of my thoughts at his words. “Now that he’s born,” Sinclair says, nodding to the baby as I carry him over to his little makeshift crib. “This isn’t the first time you’ve sent me off to battle. Does it feel different, now that he’s a little person instead of part of you?”
“He was always a little person,” I murmur with a little smile as I lay Rafe down, “since very early on, he was my little guy. But no,” I reply, straightening and looking up at my mate, who stands close to me. “It’s always horrible, Dominic. I’m never going to get used to it. That time we thought you died…”
Tears spring to my eyes at the memory. He shushes me a little, pressing a finger to my mouth, and I nod, understanding. It’s not that he doesn’t want me to engage with these feelings these memories – he just….
Well, we both know that I don’t need to go there. Not really. He will come back to me today, as he did before. As he always does.
Slowly, seeing me pull myself together, Sinclair gives me a deep nod. “Brave little mate,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging close, never wanting to let him go.
The day passes quickly, with all of the preparation, and Cora and I watch mostly in silence. We do what we can to help, but Sinclair has built a very capable team. Frankly, they don’t need much, which is worse for us. We’re both helpers – it’s our instinct to pitch in.
“I hate this,” Cora growls next to me as we watch the men pack all of their supplies into the cars they’ll be taking.
“It’s for the best,” I sigh, leaning my shoulder against hers as I bounce Rafe in my arms, trying to get him to stop crying. It’s almost as if he knows his dad is going away. “No battlefields for baby,” I say passively, smiling down at my boy.
Cora laughs darkly and I look over to see her rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Ella,” she says, shaking her head. “You were in like, three battlefield situations when you were pregnant.”
“True,” I say, quirking my head to the side. “Sinclair probably should have locked me up in a bunker long ago.”
“Truer words never spoken,” Sinclair says as he walks over to us, smirking. “Is it time?” I ask, stepping close as Roger likewise comes near.
“It is,” Sinclair replies, pulling me close and looking first into my face and then down at the baby. “Calm down, baby trouble,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand to trace a large finger across Rafe’s forehead. “I’ll be home soon.”
“You’d better be,” I growl, glaring at my mate and tilting my head up for a kiss, which he gives me.
“Don’t eat all the snacks,” he whispers, giving me a wink and a smack on the ass as he begins to turn away. “We’ll be hungry when we come home.”
“No promises!” I call after him, grinning as I watch him walk away. I turn, then, and watch Cora let Roger go as well, my heart breaking for her a little bit.
“See you soon, gorgeous,” Roger says with a wave as he moves towards the car. And I step closer to my sister, taking a deep breath, sending a quick prayer to the Goddess that this isn’t the last time we see them alive.
