Accidental Surrogate

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.

be a busy, complicated

it end

Sinclair

we gather in the

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

working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing a

in the hours in my younger years to get to where I am. I am allowed to indulge, a little, in some of the privileges of being in charge – even if my constant instinct is to

doing fine, Dominic,” my father murmurs to me as he rolls up to my side, his voice quiet enough that no one is likely

I ask, surprised.

me a little smirk, just for a moment, before placing some paperwork on the table and beginning to sort through it. “You think I

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

him. Roger comes over to us and gives us a

bodily movements we all have in common. My dad

little out of the loop, but I shake my head at

anything big and he just shrugs it off, leaning in front of me to look at

up with last

when Cora and

they encounter, Ella showing off the baby to anyone who wants

handing out little cups of coffee

Roger says, his eyes wide as he looks at the

I ask, looking between Roger and our mates, trying

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

that I don’t, I shake my head.

his face swiftly in a mix of

for this, since you’ve

your

gives me a significant look and I shut my mouth,

arms over my chest

amazing, and I love her, but you let her get away with things that you wouldn’t

he continues

–

of getting to

my eyebrow at Roger,

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