#Chapter 379 – Battered Ella

The four of us spent the next few hours talking, eventually ordering quite a bit of takeout and making some complicated plans while Sinclair ate his weight in Chinese food. The sight of him eating pleased me to no end, but eventually I could see him running out of steam.

“All right,” I say quietly, looking significantly at Cora and Roger. “I think ….we have enough to go on for now. We can pick up again tomorrow.”

“What?” Sinclair asks, frowning around at us though I can see him stifling a yawn. “We have so much to do-”

“Enough,” I say significantly, placing my little hand over his larger one.” You’re still exhausted, Dominic.”

He frowns at me and opens his mouth, ready to fight, but I shake my head once. “Tomorrow,” I say, my voice a command. He narrows his eyes at me but I stand strong. “I understand, Dominic. I know it’s in your nature to tear the world apart in the effort to make it all better as fast as you can. But please, for me, can you start tomorrow?”

He hesitates but sees the sorrow and worry in my face and, slowly, nods. This is the last day you get to boss me around, trouble,” he growls, not happy about it. “Tomorrow, I’m in charge again.”

“I’ll take it,” I say, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, Rafe curled happily in my arms.

“I think it’s a good plan,” Roger says, yawning himself and stretching his arms. He and Cora stand up and he wraps an arm around her waist, smiling down at her. “Ready for bed, little mate?”

“Sure, little mate,” Cora replies, grinning up at him, knowing precisely what she’s doing. “What?” Roger says with a start, frowning down at her. “That doesn’t work, Cora – you’re the little one – ”

“But it’s sweet!” she says, pretending to be innocent and making me grin. I’m little mate, you’re little mate – ”

“I’m not little,” he growls.

“Awww,” she says, patting his cheek fondly. “Sure you’re not, baby.” And as she turns to head out of the room Roger growls, storming after her, and I laugh a little to see how well she knows him.

“They really do work,” Sinclair says to me after they close the door. “She knows just how to push his buttons. And Roger needs a good teasing to keep him in line.”

“And you?” I ask, perching on the side of the bed. “Do you need to be kept in line?”

“No,” he says, letting his voice drop into that deep, dominant register I like so much. “I am always in charge, Ella. And you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

“Damn right,” I murmur, leaning forward to kiss my mate, letting him feel just how much I like it down the bond. The hum in Sinclair’s chest deepens as he pulls me a little closer, letting one of his hands drift suggestively down my back.

But I sigh and pull away. “Baby’s still up,” I say, nodding down at him. “And you need your rest. I’m going to take him for a little walk around the clinic, okay? While you try to get some sleep?”

“I’ll come with you,” Sinclair says, starting to stand up, but I put a hand out to his shoulder, asking him to stop.

“Please, Dominic,” I beg, letting him see my sincerity in my eyes. “I promise, tomorrow you can go full steam and I won’t say anything. Just…please just get one more good night’s sleep, okay? For me? So I can…I can know you’re all right?”

And he sighs as he sits back against the pillows, but I can see the tired lines settle onto his face as he does. “All right, Ella,” he says.

I kiss him on the cheek, moving the TV remote closer to him so that he can put something mindless on to distract himself so that his mind doesn’t spin while he rests.

“You’ll come back soon?” he asks quietly.

“As soon as the baby’s asleep,” I promise, nodding. Although I cross my fingers just a little bit, because I intend to stay out until I know Sinclair is able to fall into a true, restful sleep whether Rafe is asleep or not.

And then I kiss my mate again and, with a final squeeze of his hand, slip out the door. When I pull the door shut behind me, I turn to replace Hank leaning against the wall outside of the door, as I knew he would be.

“Ready to get to work?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“You betcha,” I say with a sigh, squaring my shoulders. Then Hank passes me a cloth baby carrier and I let him hold Rafe while I strap it to my chest. Once we get the baby strapped in and settled, I look up at him again.

“Okay,” I say, nodding to my friend. ” Let’s get started.”

Hank and I work side-by-side long into the night tending to the men who were hurt either in the bunker or on the expedition to Xander’s house. I’ve been at Hank’s side every moment that I haven’t been pinned to my mate’s side for the past three days.

It was terrible to continually have to choose between my responsibilities. Every part of my body wanted to be constantly next to Sinclair, holding his hand, being there for him while his body and mind healed from his horrible experience.

But I also have responsibilities as the Luna of this pack, as the bearer of the Goddess’s gift, to use it to heal the men who made such terrible sacrifices for us.

The first night was the worst. Shortly after we got Sinclair inside the clinic was flooded with the men coming in from the bunker 1 some with horrible wounds that needed immediate care. I had to make a horrible decision, then, to prioritize my mate and my sister – to heal them first – while I could hear the men’s screams from the other room.

Tears had poured from my eyes as I did it, as Hank guided me towards the worst of Sinclair’s and Cora’s wounds, making sure they would each survive before I fled to the other rooms and went to work on the men there.

We couldn’t…we didn’t save everyone. I couldn’t get to them fast enough.

And it was horrible – achingly horrible – to hear their cries fade to nothing as worked on one of their comrades across the room. Hank forced me to turn away from the men in the early hours of the morning, when I could barely keep my eyes open.

I had wanted to keep going, but he had been firm. “Enough, Ella,” he had snapped when I had insisted I wanted to do more. “They’ll survive – everyone who is alive tonight will be alive tomorrow. You need to sleep.”

And so I did. I tended to my child, and I slept, and I called to my mate in the dream state for as long as I could, and then I woke up and started again.

But we’ve made good progress in three days. Even if…well, there’s still an incredible amount to do. And every moment that I’m away from them, it tortures me to think of them sitting in here, in pain, waiting.

I follow Hank from bed to bed, where he informs me about the next wound he thinks I should concentrate on with the gift. The list is growing less and less severe as we go. At first it was terrible wounds leaking blood around torn muscles and shattered bones. But now I spend a great deal of my time reknitting sliced muscles, regrowing skin, setting fractures. I admit, I’m glad that it’s getting less gory.

“Ready?” Hank asks as we move on to the next case.

“Yup,” I say, nodding once and steeling myself, running a hand over Rafe’s sweet head as a way to calm my troubled spirit. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Luna,” the man I just worked on calls after me, and I send a smile to him over my shoulder.

“Any time, soldier,” I say, meaning every word of it. “It’s the Luna’s job to take care of her pack.”

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