Chapter 292 – A Gift

Sinclair

Agony.

It’s agony for me – obviously, more for my mate, I’m sure – but watching her survive this is ripping me apart.

I struggle against Roger’s grip – he shouldn’t be stronger than me, he’s never stronger than me, I should be able to break away – but something about all of this has just taken it out of me. I am weak, now, watching my mate struggle for her life, watching my son take his first breaths, that rips the energy from me. I gasp for breath, panicked, looking between my Ella and the baby in the doctor’s hands.

“Relax,” Roger commands, his voice low behind me as he holds me back with a hand on each of my arms. “Let them work. You can’t do anything right now. They’ll call you when they need you.”

I know he’s right, but the impulse – I have to do something –

Still, I stand with my brother, letting him take control as I watch Hank and Cora moving, blessing them in my mind with every breath that pants from my lips. Ella lays back against the pillows, pale, breathing faintly, apparently half conscious and half out.

The pair of doctors move fast. Hank glances over the crying child and then quickly hands him to Cora, reaching for the medical bag that sits on the bed between them. Cora does a quick inspection of the baby and then hastily cuts the umbilical cord. Then, she meets my eyes.

“Come and take your child, Dominic,” she demands, wrapping him hastily in the scrap of a pillowcase that I tore to pieces not long ago. “He’s fine – but Ella needs both Hank and I right now.” Roger releases my arms and I move forward, my eyes half on my beautiful Ella as I take the baby from Cora’s hands. I can’t – how can I greet my son when his mother –

“The child,” Cora says, holding my gaze for a brief moment before turning back to Ella. ” Concentrate on the baby, Sinclair. We’ve got Ella for now.”

takes over something I’m not sure I knew was there – as I begin to shush my child, to rock him, to try to bring him to a peaceful state in this scary new world. Slowly, softly, I raise my hand to wipe at the liquid on his face, to clear it, marveling at the

bring my face close to my sons, pressing a kiss to his head

of my vision I can see Cora and Hank working swiftly with their medical supplies, Hank sewing quickly while Cora crouches by Ella’s head, taking her pulse

her cheeks a little.

on the bed. “Ella,” Cora says, and I see my mate – oh, thank god – I see her blink, and focus on her sister,

white. Unbidden, I come to Ella’s side, determined to be with her – to give

take my mate’s hand, the baby curled in the

to access the

and closes her eyes. But I don’t know if that’s because….because

much worse. I open my mouth, panicked, to call her name, but Cora

mouth, and squeeze my mate’s hand, and let

Ella

right now to think, to concentrate, to communicate – let alone enter the calm meditative

I don’t know whether it’s blood loss from Hank’s medical cut, or some sort of tear within me, or…something else. But my vision fades in and

in the brief moments when I can concentrate, I see Sinclair standing by my side, feel his hand in my own, and see our little baby wrapped up in a sheet in his arm

in the dream state And I find new determination within me. So, working hard to steady my breathing, to not slip into oblivion, I close my eyes and work

to that cool lavender, and I feel the balm of my mother’s gift

as Cora was, that day by the

if the gift is working inside me, and they’re just holding their breaths, hoping that I’m not…I’m

its warmth, and can almost hear

all I’ve given the world, I have earned

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