Chapter 375

– Frozen

Ella

I scream at the top of my lungs – no words, just senseless agony – the moment the woman turns
the corner and I lose sight of my child. The sound is horrible even to my own ears, but I can’t stop
myself as I hurl myself against the ice that holds me, against which I ceaselessly fight.

A nurse stumbles into view, blood running down the length of her face, and she glances into the
room where Hank is crumpled on the floor – where I’m frozen to the ground and gives a little sob
before continuing to run away

Away from the priestess, who must be hurting people in her hurry to get out I stop screaming quiet
suddenly when I see Hank twitch once again on the floor, see him begin to push to his feet-

“Hank!” I shout, desperate. “Please, Hank!”

He moans a little and turns to me, blinking hard, but then he gasps as he seems to put it all back
together. Ella!” he shouts, frantic, turning to me, looking all around –

“No!” I gasp, looking hard towards the door, hoping to hell he takes my meaning. “Go! She she took
him! She took Rafe! Go and get the baby!”

Hank nods once and forces himself to unsteady feet and then rushes to the door, pushing himself
out of it. And then I lose sight of him and let out a little desperate wail of horror. Because there’s –
there’s nothing I can do-

And the ice that surrounds me, it’s burning me in its cold – and I’m shivering so hard here beneath it
but held so completely still that I can’t even feel myself shake-

Desperate, wailing, in complete panic, I press my eyes shut and try to think of something of
anything that I can do

But there’s nothing. I’m held still – my son has been stolen 1 my sister is wounded in the next room
– mate is out on some mission that I know, in my heart, can’t be going well if Xander was this many



steps ahead of us

There’s nothing nothing I can do – And so, sobbing, I do the only thing I can think of.

I close my eyes, and force myself into that state, and scream inwardly for my mother.

Sinclair

I clench my jaw against the moans and groans that want to crawl out of my throat as we drive. I
refuse to allow them the dignity of utterance. After all they won’t serve any good. Roger knows
precisely how bad off I am now, and he’s the only one here to hear me.

But still, the idea of Ella in danger somewhere, with Rafe –

I can’t stand it. I have – I have to be by their side. Even if I don’t have any idea how I’ll be of any
use to them when I get here. And I know that Roger feels precisely the same.

We’re drawing close now – back to the city, back to the clinic – and I force myself to watch the
scenery pass as Roger makes turn after turn, driving as quickly as he can.

It was a terrible decision to make, when we got in the car. Roger hesitated only for a moment,
noting that Ella told us in her text to go to our dad – that there was some kind of attack there.

But in our hearts, we both knew we had to get to them – to Cora, to Ella. To our children. It’s what
our father would want us to do. But still, even beyond my bodily pain, the fear gnaws at me. Was
our father even alive?

I press my eyes shut only for a moment as we draw close to the clinic, sending a little prayer out for
our dad. I’m grateful, of course, that he got Ella, and Cora, and Rafe out through the trap door – but
damn it, why had I been so short sighted in my design? Why hadn’t I made some sort of accessible
second entrance so that he could get out as well?

“Steady,” Roger says, and I feel the car slow down now. My eyes open as I see that we’re
approaching the clinic. ” Dominic, what’s the plan here? Are we just going to burst in here? Or -”

But as Roger pulls the car towards the front of the building, our plan presents itself for us. Because
out of the front of the building dashes a robed figure, her long hair streaming out behind her. I go



tense as I recognize her instantly as one of the Goddess’s priestesses – the one who performed
Rafe’s baptism.

My eyes sharpen as I realize that she has a baby in her arms, that she’s running with him. And as
Roger pulls the car to a short stop and throws it in park, I push my door instantly open.

As soon as the baby’s cries reach my ears, I know that it’s Rafe.

And as I watch – before I can do anything at all – a second figure dashes out after the Priestess,
chasing after her, demanding that she give him the child-

And my eyes go red when I see who it is.

Hank.

I roar, pushing myself out of the door, but falling instantly to my knees as my body gives out on me
– as my wounds protest and the pain takes over, shattering through me –

I put my hands down on the asphalt, willing myself to concentrate, to pull myself together –

But as I do, I hear Roger already on the move. With pain and effort, I raise my head. It’s all I can do
to watch as a snarl rips from Roger, as he dashes towards the Priestess and Hank, who has caught
up with her now. I feel my wolf go wild when I see Hank punch the Priestess squarely across the
face, as he reaches for the baby, who she drops in her pain and her fear –

But Hank grabs him from the air, pulling Rafe soundly to his chest –

But just as he does, just as Hank gets Rafe secure in his arms – Hank looks up, his eyes going
wide as Roger’s fist slams into his jaw.

Hank shouts, moans, and stumbles back two steps as I force myself to my feet, watching carefully.
Because something – something is not right here –

Hank puts out his hand towards Roger, holding Rafe protectively against his chest, as Roger
advances on him again, pulling his fist back and again punching Hank, hard. Hank goes to his



knees, but even as Roger reaches down for the baby, tries to pull my son from his arms, Hank begs
him not to –

I take a few shambling steps closer, the best I can manage and I can hear him, then, hear Hank
begging Roger not to do it –

“Please!” Hank shouts. “You don’t understand, Roger – she’s trapped El-”

But Roger isn’t listening, blinded by his range and his fear for my son, blinded by what is frankly
probably his desire to kill Hank, for more reasons than one –

And finally, Roger rips Rafe still screeching from Hank’s arms.

And that’s when I put it all together.

That Hank he’s not trying to take the baby –

He’s trying to save –

I gasp in a deep breath, but before I can shout, I watch in horror as my brother hands the child back
to the waiting Priestess. “Here,” he growls. “Please, hold the baby while I finish this – ”

“Roger!” I scream as the Priestess with a too-soft smile takes the baby from my brother’s arms.
“Roger, no!”

Roger spins to me, confused, as Hank lets out a frustrated shout and points to the priestess.

But Roger is the last to put it all together when he spins again to see her already running, already
halfway gone. My baby in her arms.



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