#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.

surely be a busy, complicated

can it

Sinclair

in the conference room at the end of the

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

little pang of guilt runs through me as I realize that they were working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing a bit more than relaxing with my mate.

of the privileges of being in 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

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

“What?” I ask, surprised.

before placing some paperwork on the table and beginning to sort through it.

clear? I’m your father, boy. We still have a bond, even if

comes over to us and gives us a sharp little nod, which we both return, and then I

we all have in common. My dad laughs a

I shake my head at him a little

shrugs it off, leaning in front of me to

up with last

though, when Cora and Ella come through the door,

off the baby to

Cora handing out little

wide as

our mates, trying to figure out

says, his voice tight, “do you not see the issue here?” he

disturbed that I

his face swiftly in a mix of

going to forgive you for this, since you’ve been a little…hypnotized by Ella since the

your life –”

significant look and I shut

my chest but

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

protest, but

is and I’m not calling your judgement into doubt – but I have had the privilege of getting to know both Ella and Cora without being in

at

thus am more aware of what they can do when they combine their powers. You have a sweet spot for

up

_”

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