#Chapter 342 – Bunker Life

Ella

Sinclair and I wake up late the next morning and frankly I’m grateful that everyone let us sleep in. We had to get up to feed Rafe, of course, but even with that? It’s the most sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.

“Morning,” I murmur, turning over to Sinclair and slinging a leg up over his hip, feeling just… ridiculously relaxed for someone who fought off a pack of kidnappers in her bedroom yesterday.

Sinclair doesn’t say anything, just growls a hungry little greeting and pulls my naked body closer to his, rolling over me a little so that I can feel the delicious weight of him on top of me as he kisses my neck, my shoulder, and then my mouth. “We’re skipping breakfast,” he murmurs, sliding his hand leisurely down the length of my body, “I have different idea for how we can spend

the time

“Noooo,” I moan in protest, my stomach audibly growling in support. “I need fooooood!”

Sinclair laughs and pulls away from me then. “Am I not sustenance enough for you?” he asks

pretending to be offended. “Here,” he says, offering his arm, bulging with muscles, “take a bite. It

will keep you going.”

I bare my teeth and lean forward towards it, making my mate laugh, but then I just press a quick kiss to the arm and push him away, reaching for the baby who is starting to fuss in his cradle at

the sound of our voices.

“As delicious as you are,” I call over my shoulder to Sinclair as I lean down to scoop Rafe into my arms, “the baby and I need pancakes.”

“Then pancakes you shall have,” Sinclair murmurs, yawning and crossing to the little metal

bathroom door in the corner of the room. “But I hope that you are aware that these will be bunker

pancakes,” he adds, twisting the nob and pushing his way through, “by which I mean plain toast.”

I laugh, nodding to indicate that that’s fine by me, and then I spend a few sweet minutes alone

with my son, talking softly to him while I feed him his own breakfast, taking my time looking

over, admiring his little face and his thick thatch of black hair, mussed from sleep.

a little, thinking that this will surely be a busy,

can it end

Sinclair

in the morning we gather in the conference room at the end of

have brought with us, but honestly I’m proud of them. Many worked through the night to develop

runs through me as I realize that they were working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing a bit

charge – even if my constant instinct is to work, and to push, and to keep going. Ella and Rafe need my attention as well, just as much as my business and political life. And, considering what Roger and Cora went through yesterday, they needed me last night

he rolls up to my side, his voice quiet enough that no one is likely

“What?” I ask, surprised.

placing some paperwork on the table and beginning to sort through it. “You think I can’t read the emotions on your face,

to keep it clear? I’m your father, boy. We still have a bond, even if it’s changed with

gives us a sharp little nod, which we both

all have in

of the loop, but I shake my

not missing anything big and he just shrugs it off, leaning in front of me to look at

dad came up

up straight, though, when Cora and Ella come through the

off the baby to anyone who wants

Cora handing out little cups of coffee that they thoughtfully

says, his eyes wide

our mates,

“do you not see the

I don’t, I

sighs, scrubbing his hand down his face swiftly in a mix of worry

to forgive you for this, since you’ve been a

walked into your

gives me a significant look and I shut my mouth, frowning

my chest but letting him

continues, speaking quickly, “Ella’s amazing, and I love her, but you let her get away with things that you wouldn’t let anyone

protest, but he continues

I’m not calling your judgement into doubt – but I have had the privilege of getting to know both Ella

eyebrow at Roger, but

of what they can do when they combine their powers. You have a sweet spot for Ella, you think she’s funny

up

_”

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