Chapter 275

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?

“Rafe?” 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 baby, wrapped in white swaddling, holding him in my arms

“A dream,” Sinclair says hurriedly, “it was a dream, Ella – we met him in the dream –”

swell of my stomach then, drawing my attention to it, reminding me that

of my baby. Then I close my eyes, resting my

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. He tells me he

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

of

like that for a long

to reality after such a hard few weeks, after days of struggling in the dream state to get here. It is hard on me, on

where else I’d want to

get the doctor,” I hear Roger murmur, and then his footsteps move to the door, heading

my eyes and reaching my other hand for her. Sinclair straightens at my side, letting us have our moment

the tears that are falling down her own cheeks. “Are

at my poor beat up little body. “Um, I think so?” I feel so weak but there

the Goddess’s – the gift, I gave it back to you,” she stumbles, not really

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

ridiculous – you were dying – of course I gave it back to you I didn’t

it?!” I almost shout, frantic and frankly a little mad now. “It’s a gift from a Goddess – from

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 see

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

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

smiling at my sister, holding my mate’s hand tight in my own, when the Doctor comes in, Rafe hot on his heels. It’s a man I haven’t seen before certainly not one of my normal doctors

into Cora in his hurry to get to me. He quickly scans my face, his expression worried. “I have to say, I’m shocked to see you awake –” He quickly grasps my wrist, feeling for a pulse and turning towards the monitors behind them, scanning them for new information. “It shouldn’t be possible…” he mutters, his brows drawn together. “Earlier

looking up at

just shrug. Sinclair stands stoically beside me, still holding my hand. “An intervention from the Goddess, if you will,” he observes, a little humor in his voice. The doctor’s face screws up further with confusion but then he simply exhales

says, turning back to the monitors. “Whatever it

wincing as a sharp pain spikes through my back. Sinclair starts at my grimace, leaning closer to me, scenting me, clearly working to figure out

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