Accidental Surrogate

Accidental Surrogate Chapter 346-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?

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

enough to hold us through it until we

you could die! And how the hell would I feel, for the rest of my life – what would I tell our child – when I

how to reply. And frankly I’m torn by the idea as well if Sinclair died,

if I’d survive it myself. Now? Sinclair asks me, his own inner voice dark

whisper and, after a second, my sister drags her eyes away from her mate to look at me. Slowly, I shake

argument goes both ways. How the hell would Roger feel if you got killed and your baby

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

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

hair. “I’m sorry. But Cora, I promise you

looking up at him. “Is this what I’ve gotten myself into? Battle after

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

his arms around her. “I

pass through the door and head down the hall, both of us silent, me

now?” Sinclair asks me as

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

I reply, straightening and looking up at my mate, who stands close to me. “It’s always horrible, Dominic. I’m never

the memory. He shushes me a little, pressing a finger to my mouth, and I nod, understanding. It’s not that he doesn’t

need to go there. Not really. He will come back to me today, as he did before.