#Chapter 332 – Bunker

Ella

“We have to go,” Sinclair commands, looking at his brother and then at me, both of our eyes trained on him. “To one of the bunkers. Where we’re better prepared for a siege, if need be.”

I don’t know what he means – not entirely – but I just give my mate a single nod, agreeing to his plan, trusting him. Roger nods as well, and I’m sure he knows more about it than I do. Sinclair shifts his gaze to the team standing wide–eyed behind Roger and nods to them. Understanding Sinclair’s command to prepare to move, they turn away, instantly in action.

Roger, however, stays perfectly still. “Cora,” he says, looking into Sinclair’s eyes, his intention perfectly clear. He won’t go without her.

“We’ll find her,” I answer, my voice a*sured. “She’s coming, Roger. I won’t have it any other way.”

Roger looks between us for a moment, his mouth tightening, and then nods once before turning

to leave the room to make his own preparations.

“Ten minutes!” Sinclair calls after him. “Less, if we can!” I see the back of Roger’s head nod in

understanding, though he doesn’t turn to say anything else.

Then, my mate turns his attention to me, loosening his arms around me and the baby and coming

around to look down into my face. “You’re a mess, little mate,” he murmurs, smiling a little.”

Though I have to admit that I rather like the sight of you covered in the blood of your enemies,

“Thanks,” I say, tossing my hair over my shoulder and pretending a casual air I don’t feel. “I hear

it’s the next big thing in fashion. Very chic.”

He laughs a little at my joke and shakes his head at me, but still looks down at me. “Are you all

right, darling?” he asks, and something about his voice – the worry in it, the need for me to be

okay, loosens the resolve in me. I feel my face fall then, my knees go a little weak –

Because, really, I can be weak now with him here. My baby needed me before – I don’t regret a

it – but I have Sinclair at my side now to keep me safe

again.

not okay,” I say honestly, shaking my head, my

into my eyes, listening. “But

a single kiss

move

as

the bunker,” he says, shaking his head a

To get the worst of it from our faces and hands? But the rest

to pack

little, heading to Rafe’s changing station with Sinclair in tow, tugging a few

wipe my own face. “To

move on quickly, heading together

small bags with the essentials – a bit of our

as we can fit.

him between our arms when the other

to keep

as we came out of this horrible day largely

in only a few minutes and head for the bedroom door –

shattered off its

pa*sing through and not even looking

remains of our

I shrug, following close behind him. “But we can

taking my hand as we hurry down

a second.

us at the doorway with a

boxes of whatever they

tugging Sinclair into the living room quickly,

out of the house. Sinclair, the baby,

moves towards another. There are

don’t ask about the plan, trusting that

place for this kind of

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