Chapter 350-Cora

It’s hours, hours later when I finally have a moment to step back and breathe. And when I do, I feel my head spin and stumble back a step or two. Roger is there, instantly, his hand on my back.

“Cora,” he says, pulling me closer to him, tilting up my face so that he can study me. “Are you all right? You’re – ”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, frustrated, trying to push away and get back to work. I have a moment to breathe, but honestly there’s so much more that – needs to be done for these men –

“No,” Roger says, stubborn. “You’re pushing yourself too far – you’re pregnant, Cora -”

“Roger,” I sigh, turning to glare at him in earnest now and putting a hand on his chest. “This cannot be the refrain that I hear for the next nine – or six or however many months, all right? I am not going to stop doing my job-stop healing people – just because I’m pregnant.”

I hear Roger begin to growl in protest but I lock my teeth together, staring up at him, hard. And, slowly, I see him start to relent, to remember the person who he chose as his mate.

“This is my life, Roger,” I whisper, ” my identity. I’m a doctor – I made an oath! I’m going to help them.”

“All right,” he replies, taking a step back. “But Cora, please -”

to look around the room. “I’ll be careful – I’ll stop before I’m totally exhausted. I won’t put myself or the

me over from top to bottom, his eyes pausing on my

to pause, closing my eyes and checking in with myself. Honestly, I’m not far off – but there’s still so much that these men need. Honestly the extent of the burns that they came in

I look up at him again

as I agree to stay still so he can check in on the baby. Roger closes his eyes and concentrates and I’m a

has much more connection with the baby when he’s touching me and when he concentrates, but…I do wish it was easier for him. I want him to have the full fatherhood experience, with all of its blessings. And it breaks my heart that my

murmurs, opening his eyes and leaning forward to press his

fully, peering at some of the red

“Much slower than usual. Like

hisses at the pain of it. I get a brief glimpse of

me. As Roger puts a sweet, concerned hand on the side of my face, Ella

which she happily accepts. “How is Sinclair?” I ask, looking to the corner of the room where her mate naps lightly, Rafe secure in his arms even as he sleeps. Sinclair’s

from me. “More his pride hurt than anything, and he’s frustrated,” she says, giving a chagrined little smile to Roger. “I know you guys are disappointed that the

his way out, along with us, so we don’t have much information from the

to be optimistic about the interviews,” I point out, nodding towards where Henry is rolling between the beds, speaking kindly to any of the men who are conscious and willing to report what they heard and saw. “He’s sure

our losses,” Roger murmurs, looking around. “We are so…so lucky that everyone came

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