#Chapter 466 – Home and War

Cora

Roger and I are quiet the next morning as we go through our breakfast routine in the kitchen. It’s not an awkward sort of quiet, just…us thinking our own thoughts while staying very close to one another.

We stayed up late last night, first attending to the baby. Roger was heartbroken, too, that our barely- formed child was already worried about something – and that it’s all our fault. So we spent a good long time passing him comfort and happy thoughts down our bond, letting him feel reassured. When he finally drifted off to what we call sleep even though, honestly, it’s probably not an accurate term Roger and I took a deep breath and finally got back to the real conversation: what the hell we’re going to do.

But, of course, we didn’t come up with any solutions. Because our past experiences in the last, barely-finished war have already made it clear to us that trying to make plans? It never works.

So we eventually fell asleep holding each other close, whispering promises to put each other and our family first, even as the nation and its people ask us for more.

“That’s weird,” Roger murmurs, flicking through his phone as he leans against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand.

“What,” I ask, turning to him and blowing on my tea to cool it, “the fact that you’re actually reading your messages? That you know where your phone is? That it’s charged?”

He flicks his eyes up to me and smirks, but shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs. “Sinclair sent me a message telling me not to come in until this afternoon. Says he needs to sleep.”

My eyebrows go up in surprise. “Wow, slacking on the job, so early in his reign.”

Roger laughs a little and tucks the phone away in his pajama pocket. ” Nah, something’s up,” he says. “He wouldn’t take a sick day unless he needs it. Do you think it has something to do with Ella? That crazy dinner she went to last night?”

Maybe,” I say, reaching for my own phone, hoping maybe she texted to fill me in. But I scowl when the screen comes up

it’s not like Ella to not send me ten texts in the morning – general greetings, pictures of Rafe, selfies of her with bed-hair with her gigantic mate walking around in the background of the

I say, looking up at Roger. ”

hand around my waist to pull me close. “Either way, it means I

before standing on my toes so I can wrap my arms around his

bathroom is brand new,

garbage disposal keeps making this

he murmurs, pulling me sharply closer. ” Or it’s haunted, which is also something

nose a little with mine. “Well

of my thighs before standing up straight and taking me with

and throaty affirmation. “It’s actually a problem with the sheets, underneath the

for the stairs. ” This sounds serious – we’ll have to investigate

gorgeous mate carries me upstairs, and into the bedroom, and slams the

all wrapped up in each other. I slip my fingers through his hair, only half listening as he tells me more about his and Sinclair’s plans to create an Alpha Academy to train young wolves to be

front door downstairs creek

as he pulls me beneath him a bit, his lips peeling back over his teeth as he

“Cora!”

body slackens as soon as Ella’s voice rings up the stairs, accompanied

shove. ”

She’s the one bursting into our house it’s her own fault if she sees something she doesn’t want to see

just stand up and throw his pajama pants at him before moving to the closet and

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