Accidental Surrogate

War Ella The next day, Cora and Roger come over early. Roger and Sinclair head out, their faces solemn, to speak with their aids and their advisors regarding how to respond to the news we know is inevitably coming. Our reconnaissance teams told us that the Atalaxian delegation did indeed return home last night and were apparently in council until dawn.

Which suggests that at any moment now, they’ll declare war.

Sinclair, I know, is spending a great deal of time deciding how to publicly respond. I think that he and Roger right now are recording a message that will go out to the nation as soon as the war is declared. But Cora and I?

Well.

We’re just…being moms.

“Ella,” she says, sighing and holding Rafe out towards me in my closet, wrinkling her nose. “I think you precious future King needs to be changed.” I sigh, my sweater only half over my head. “So? Go change him.” When I pull my sweater down and settle it neatly over my stomach, I see her grinning at me, my baby still outstretched in her arms. “Nope,” she says, shaking her head. “Your baby, your diaper.” “You’re going to regret that policy,” I say, taking Rafe from her with raised brows, “in juuuuust about three and a half months, Cora.” “And for three and a half months, I will be diaper free!” she calls after me with a laugh as I carry my smelly baby over to his changing table in the bedroom.

Rafe grins at me, looking honestly a little proud of himself, and I can’t help but laugh as I lay him down and quickly change him. “Little Rafe,” I coo, smiling down into his perfect face and tickling his belly, “getting so big! Do you want to try an apple today? Or some avocado?” As I finish changing Rafe, Cora comes out of the closet, changed into a comfortable set of my clothes. She came to the palace today in more formal clothing, but as soon as Sinclair let her know that she probably wouldn’t be required to appear or speak she immediately expressed her intention to change.

I smile at her, picking up the baby, my eyes going to where her little baby bump is clearly evident under her sweatshirt.

hands going to either side of her belly. “It just goes so fast, these wolf pregnancies,” she says, shaking her head. “Human moms get nine months to adjust; it’s kind of crazy that wolf mothers only get two-thirds of that time.” “Or less,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “I didn’t even make it to six months.” “I wonder how long mine will be,” she murmurs, still studying her belly, smiling down at her little baby-to-be.” No way of knowing, with this hybrid stuff.” “Surprises are always exciting,” I say, resting back on the couch and holding my baby close to my chest, turning him a little so he can look at his auntie. Rafe giggles a little, the sweetest

to know, to have a timeline.” “Timelines are just you trying to control the chaos, sis,” I murmur, resting my head against my baby’s. ” And with children – and this family?” I shake my head a little. “Maybe

I can say anything else, though, the door opens and Roger and Sinclair come through, their hands shockingly empty of tablets, phones,

comes to stand behind me. ” All done work for the day?” “Nothing more we can do,” he murmurs. “Budge over I want to sit.” I grin, scooting forward almost halfway across the couch to make room

kiss to Cora’s jaw, and

for the remote and presses a few buttons, turning on the television that hangs on the far wall. The

to hear the details he already knows, Sinclair presses mute and wraps his arms more tightly around me. I sigh, pressing myself against him, and then I dip my head

so hard to avoid

feel his disappointment down the bond. “It’s a gamble – but if they win? The rewards will be worth it. Moon Valley is incredibly valuable, both in land and intellectual resources.” “Which means they’ll fight very hard to take it,” Roger sighs. “It’s going to be…a long war.” “How long?” I murmur, looking down at the

knowing peace, Ella. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry,” I say, my reply instant – because it’s really, really not

is for me. I work to put a smile on my face, to make myself feel the hope that

papa to protect him.” “Oh, he doesn’t need me,” Sinclair replies, laughing a little and reaching down to take Rafe’s tiny hands in his own giant mitts, moving Rafe’s hands in quick jabs