Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 291

Chapter 291

+15 Bohus

Third Person’s POV

Seraphina knew their window was closing. Desperate to find survivors before time ran out, she refused to stop and

rest.

The skin on her palms was rubbed raw and bleeding from the grueling work, but she kept pushing.

A voice rang out through the rubble in joyful surprise. “Sera!”

Seraphina froze.

She looked up and spotted Trista. Even though her face was smeared with dirt and blood, Trista looked relieved to be alive.

She was carrying a man much taller than her-a guy covered in massive wounds who looked like he was barely hanging on.

“Trista…”

Seraphina blinked hard, half-expecting her grief to be playing tricks on her.

When it clicked that this was real, the shovel slipped from her hands.

But someone else beat her to it. Moving with a werewolf’s blur of speed, Wilmot blew past her.

“Trista!”

In his frantic rush, he bowled the injured man over and pulled Trista into a bone-crushing hug. Both he and his inner wolf were beside themselves with joy that she’d made it.

“Honey, you’re alive. Thank God, you’re alive…”

Trista went rigid for a second before shoving him back. “Are you blind? I’m carrying a critically injured patient here!”

She dropped into a crouch to check on the guy.

She’d only managed to slap a makeshift bandage on him earlier, and the fall had torn his wounds open.

By then, Seraphina had closed the distance. “Trista, I thought you were-”

Her voice caught. She couldn’t force the rest of the words out.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t be sad. I’m fine,” Trista said gently. “But…”

She pointed at the unconscious man beside her. “Help me treat his wounds first.”

“Right. Yeah.”

Seraphina didn’t pepper her with questions about why she hadn’t been in the safe zone, or why she’d dragged back some injured stranger.

Just seeing her friend safe was enough. A massive wave of relief washed over Seraphina, draining all the physical tension out of her body.

“I got him.”

1/3

+15 Bonus

Shaking off his emotional high, Wilmot stepped up to take the injured man from Trista. As he calmed down, his heavy werewolf aura settled.

They headed over to the temporary shelter.

Seraphina and Trista worked side by side for a long time, cleaning and dressing the man’s injuries.

When they caught a breather, Trista filled Seraphina in on everything.

On the day of the bombing, Trista had gotten a distress call. She and two other Doctors Without Borders headed out to a civilian neighborhood a few kilometers away.

The injured there were in no shape to be moved, so the doctors had gone to them instead.

That detour was the only reason Trista and her colleagues weren’t caught in the blast.

Seraphina fell quiet for a second after hearing the story.

“Sera, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

Seraphina shook her head. She shot a quick glance at the man standing just outside the tent, then looked away.

“Is this guy… one of ours, too?”

Seraphina asked, changing the subject. She studied the unconscious man’s face.

He was middle-aged. He didn’t have the soft look of a businessman visiting Ukraine, and he didn’t look like an engineer, either.

Judging by his build, he had the hard edge of a trained soldier.

But what was a soldier doing in Ukraine, and how had he gotten so badly hurt?

“Judging by these injuries, somebody did this to him on purpose.”

“Yeah.”

Trista nodded, unable to pull her eyes away from the man’s face.

“I found him in the alley behind a clinic, over in that rundown neighborhood I was checking out.”

They still didn’t know who he was, but he was in critical condition. They needed to get him back to their country for advanced medical care.

“I doubt he’s an average guy. I’ll go talk to Mortimer. We should put him on the Blade pack’s private jet, fly him home, and then loop in the authorities.”

Seraphina paused, thinking it over.

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