Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 439-Coronation

Ella

Sinclair and I wake up only a few short hours later, our clothing spread out all over the bed and floor all around us, because today is the big day.

I groan a little when I feel Sinclair stir.

“No,” I murmur, wrapping my arm around him and pulling him back down. Or, I should say that he lets me pull him back down. Because there’s no way I’m strong enough to physically make my big scary Alpha do anything he doesn’t want to do.

But he is sweet, and obliges me.

“I know,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his gigantic hand. “I’m sorry, trouble.

But we’ve got to get up and look pretty for our big day.” “Let’s just go ugly,” I sigh. “Really… lower expectations for the rest of your reign.

You can rule in sweatpants and t- shirts. They’ll call you the Comfortable King.” He laughs, and I can feel him shake his head. “Come on, Ella,” he cajoles. ” Don’t you want to look pretty to match the crown?” I crack an eye open, tempted. Because honestly, I forgot about the crown. I’ve been very much looking forward to the crown.

He laughs again, looking down at me. There she is,” he says, smiling at me. ” My little magpie. Come on, gorgeous.” “Fine,” I sigh, sitting up straight with a pout. “But I am having two cups of coffee today, which means that that one-” I say, pointing to the baby, “is going to be all jittery all day.” “A compromise I think we can accept for one day,” Sinclair says, pulling me close. I turn my face up to him, sensing that he wants it, and Sinclair kisses me long and lingering. As he does he passes feelings to me down the bond pride, and happiness, and a great deal of contentment.

And I pass him back my own feelings much the same, as well as a great deal of hope and pleasure to see him lead this nation for which he’s fought for so long.

breaks our kiss, he beams

murmurs, shaking his head at me in wonder.

tight around me, taking a deep breath, simply accepting my faith in him. And I let him hold

we’ve let

I both

mate and getting out of

Rafe on the head. “He’ll be a Prince, after all, once the day is done.” “Hear that!?” I say to the baby, laughing a little. “Little Prince Rafe! Cutest little heir to the throne that there ever was!” “True, ” Sinclair murmurs, dropping a kiss to my head too and then moving towards the bathroom as I take Rafe to his changing

day, as predicted,

is a strange mix of auditorium and conference chamber, with the kind of stadium seating all around that looks more

of it, with an elaborate table on the fourth side of the room and a narrow empty space at the center. Sinclair seats himself at the center

pants with a blue sash over the front as well as a great number of medals. I don’t know what any of the

all that

little Rafe, who is dressed like his father no medals, though – and he grins up at me, giving a little squeal. I smile at him, laughing. “Are you excited for the big day?” I whisper, giving him a little pulse of curiosity down our

to communicate so effectively with my son even though he is so young. And he laughs

him a big hug, pressing a couple of kisses to

asks, and I beam up at

of the governors of the distinct provinces of our nation comes forward and affirms Sinclair as their choice for King, I remind myself that this is actually the important thing. The elaborate coronation will come next, but this? Where first the governors and then the individual packs consent to

five Atalaxians just visible at the back of the room, knowing that this is not their process: that they rule