Accidental Surrogate

#Chapter 274 – Bonded

Ella

My head feels…so heavy. I groan, trying to move my hands up so I can press them against my temples, but I can’t move them.

“Easy,” I hear him say beside me and instinctually I turn towards his voice. Where –

“Easy, Ella,” he murmurs, his words thick with emotion. “It’s all right…”

I peel my eyelids apart, then, confused at the effort. It’s like I haven’t opened my eyes for weeks…

My vision comes back to me slowly, the room around me coming into focus with effort. I blink rapidly, looking around at Sinclair, and Cora, and Roger all standing around me, peering at me with worried faces. I feel very suddenly like Dorothy, when she wakes up from her trip to Oz.

“What?” I murmur, my voice thick and my throat scratchy. Suddenly anxious, I try to sit up, pushing at the bed beneath me but –

What the hell were all these wires, tied to my arms?

“Easy, trouble,” Sinclair whispers, pressing his hand to my shoulder, keeping me down. My body responds to his command, relaxing backwards as I look up at him. But…

“Where am I?” I ask, staring at him, and then I press my eyes closed. It’s all just too much.

“You’re in the hospital,” I hear my sister explain. “After the gift, at the temple…”

But her voice fades, almost as if I can’t hear it. I feel my heart start to pound, my breath ratchet up as my memories start to come back to me. Of being on the temple steps of Cora there, and what we learned about each other of Sinclair’s warm arms around me –

–

–

–

And then, nothing – and then clouds – and Sinclair again, and my baby –

Oh my god, where was my baby?

I gasp, spinning towards Sinclair as my eyes fly open, desperate. “Where is Rafe?” Then I start to look all around me, searching for him – he’s here, he has to be, I remember him, my little

Sinclair says hurriedly, “it was a dream, Ella –

the swell of my stomach then, drawing my attention to it, reminding me that he’s here – of course he’s here, I

my own hands so that they rest on either side of my baby. Then I close my eyes, resting my

him, my ties to him. My bond with my baby. I reach out to him, sending all the love I have in my heart down our bond, and feeling a little pulse back. He hears me.

body relax. I open my eyes again, feeling a rush of sudden and unexpected joy. I look up to Sinclair and

of air, grasping one of

stay like that for a long minute as tears start to slide

unstoppable. It’s all just…it’s a lot to take in in just a few minutes. To come flying back to reality after such a hard few weeks, after days of struggling in the dream state to get

there’s no where else

murmur, and then his footsteps move to the door, heading out the

room.

Sinclair straightens at my side, letting us have our

I all right,” she huffs, laughing through the tears that are falling down her own cheeks. “Are

I feel so weak but there is also…a warmth, a

gave you back mom’s the Goddess’s – the gift, I

gasp then, working to sit up straighter in my bed. “Cora!” I scold. “Why?!

”

–

–

of course

I almost shout, frantic and frankly a little mad now. “It’s a gift from a Goddess – from our mom – I worked so

”

Sinclair growls next to me, and my eyes snap to him as I feel suddenly guilty and a little childish, arguing with my sister like this in front of him, especially when I’m clearly so sick. I look up at him, my eyes apologetic, and I

a finger to point at her. “But as soon as I’m better, you’re taking

these terms, wiping the tears off of her cheeks. “Whatever you say,

—

heels. It’s a man I haven’t seen before certainly not one of my normal doctors –

He quickly scans my face, his expression worried. “I have to say, I’m shocked to see you awake

at Sinclair. “Not precisely

if you will,” he observes, a little humor in his voice.

back to the monitors. “Whatever it was it is a…remarkable recovery.”

baby all right?” I ask quickly, working to sit up further and wincing as a sharp pain spikes through my back. Sinclair

at a small monitor tucked in amongst the larger ones. “He’s fine,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “Better, if anything, than he was the last time I was in here.” “Good,” I say, almost under my breath, pleased to have my suspicions confirmed. My baby and I… we are going to make it. “Can I go home?” I ask quickly, hoping to heap more good news

and frowning. “You’re still incredibly weak. You have days yet in this hospital –

too, letting me know he agrees