His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 272 A New Perspective

Ella

The weight of the billboard bore down, threatening to crash onto me. Just as I braced myself for impact and felt Ema’s strength surge through me, preparing to lunge out of the way or stiffen my body to repel the impact, Logan surged forward, knocking it away with his superhuman strength.

It was an impressive feat, but as the dust settled, I noticed blood beginning to seep from a wound on his arm. I heard screams and panicked voices around me. Innocent shoppers who were just as shocked as I was. But I didn’t care about them. “Logan!” I shouted, rushing to his side.

He brushed me off with a smirk. “I’ve had worse.” But his eyes betrayed the concern he was trying to hide. “His wound,” Ema said, drawing my attention back to his arm. “It’s… bad. It hurts me, too.”

I had heard the stories before, about ghost pain, caused by a mate getting hurt. It was faint, but it was there. And I was worried, too.

The dust still hung in the air, a misty remnant of the fallen billboard. Logan stood, his armi dripping blood, while I tried to absorb the shock of what had just occurred. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed, bringing with them two men. I started to back away, frightened, but Logan put his good arm around me and gave me a squeeze.

“They’re our men,” he murmured. “Not enemies.”

The men approached, glancing at the wreckage, then at Logan’s bleeding arm, their expressions morphing from concern to sheer panic.

“Boss,” the taller one began, the strain evident in his voice. His dark hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. “We arrived too late. We tracked him down, but we couldn’t intercept him before he triggered the trap.”

a scar over his left eyebrow, added, “It was cleverly set

at voice colder than ice. “And the

He trailed off, exchanging a quick glance with the shorter man, who picked up where

himself.

the other, weighing them, judging their worthiness. “I entrusted you both with not just my safety, but hers as well.” His eyes briefly. flicked to me. “This isn’t just a failure. It’s a

shorter man, desperation creeping into his voice, stepped forward. “Logan, we’ve been with you for

do. Let us make this right.” But

from shame or the weight of the failed responsibility. But Logan remained unmoved. He turned away, leaving the men

“Leave. Now.”

Logan didn’t spare them. another glance. Instead, he turned to

silence was only broken by the occasional sigh from Logan or the

caught my attention, but today, my focus was solely on the

hair, glasses perched on his nose, and a medical bag in hand. This was Dr. Mitchell, a trusted ally of Logan’s and, as Logan explained on our way inside, a man

in the expansive living room. “Sit,” he ordered Logan, who complied without protest,

I watched,

dabbed at his arm, but other than that, he remained stoic, his face giving away no sign of the pain he must have been in. Their eyes met briefly, a silent communication that seemed to say more than words ever could. “Deep gash,” Dr. Mitchell murmured, “but thankfully,

lucky?” The doctor glanced up, his eyes holding

the wound, I found my voice. “Is he

but responded, “He’ll be fine, Miss. A few stitches, some rest, and he’ll be back to his old self.” “So,

reassuring glance, trying to offer a comforting smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “See?

while, I felt Ema inside of me, aching for the pain that our mate was in. It felt almost aggravating, for her

to myself, looking away while the doctor stitched up Logan’s wound. It’s not fair.

Before he left, he pulled me aside. “Keep an eye on him,

that. The door clicked shut behind Dr. Mitchell, leaving only Logan and