Ella The next morning I’m up and dressed early, eagerly glancing towards the door every few minutes because I know Cora is coming to see me. It’s a social visit as well as a medical one – I run my hand over my belly, eager to hear what she has to say about Rafe’s growth and progress. A hear some
“My end as well,” Hank says, smiling at me and crossing his arms. “Overall, Ella, you’re doing wonderfully, all things considered. But I have to remind you that you’re still quite fragile, medically, even if you are feeling better. The orders still stand – complete bed rest, as much as possible.”
“That’s not fair, Cora,” I scold, narrowing my eyes and sitting back against my pillows as I cross my arms. “Don’t you want it, though?” she accuses, opening her eyes wider as if she’d like to hear me deny it. “It would be very neat, wouldn’t it? Two sisters matched up with two brothers? Our kids
“Well, sorry I was too busy dying to get a good sniff of him,” I grumble, throwing another pillow at her and looking bashfully at Sinclair. “But seriously, if he’s human, why does he know so much about wolf biology? Why is he such a great wolf doctor?” “He dated a wolf in med school at Harvard, ap
Ten days pass with agonizing slowness and I think I’m going to lose my mind. On the morning of the eleventh day I just sit in my bed, staring passively at the tv, flicking through the channels and not even caring what comes on. I’ve seen it all, anyway. It’s not that I haven’t tried to keep
I gasp, inspired, and grab for my phone. As quickly as I can, I pull up his contact information and call him, crossing my fingers and praying that he picks up. “Hello?” “Henry!” I burst out. “Henry, I have a great idea. Can you help me out?” _______________________ A few hours later,
Sinclair A crash sounds upstairs. The second one today. I groan and put my head in my hand, honestly not wanting to know. “Dominic?” I hear my mate call, requesting my assistance. I press my eyes shut, ignoring her for just…just one minute. “Dominic!” “Seriously,” Roger murmurs, looking toward
“Seriously!” she picks up. “If I were bad at this, could I do this?” She spins her chair then in a quick circle that lifts one of the chair’s wheels off the ground. My stomach drops as I lurch forward, desperate to keep her from tipping over, but she just laughs at me as the chair rights itself, z