Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

Chapter 291 – Big Alpha Baby

Ella

I’m gripping my sister’s hand, gritting my teeth and groaning through the first of my pushes, when the door bangs open again. I don’t open my eyes – can’t look –

–

–

Quite frankly, at this particular moment I don’t care who the hell it is if it’s Hank, or Roger, or insurgents coming to kill us – all I care about is the horrible, tearing pain within me as I work to bring my baby into the world.

I moan, throwing my head back against the pillows as I pant, feeling the pain subside a little

bit.

“How is she?” I hear Hank ask, and I open my eyes to see him there next to me. I try to give him a little smile, failing a bit. “Hello, Ella,” he says softly, his voice warmer than I’m used to. “You look like you’re doing great.”

I murmur my thanks to him as he turns his attention back to Cora, getting a full report, and I shift my gaze to Roger, who stands awkwardly across the room.

“Roger,” I say, putting my hand out to him, inviting him closer.

“Hello, Ella!” he calls, awkward. “Happy…happy birth. Or whatever.”

Sinclair starts to laugh quietly. “Come over, Roger,” he demands and Roger sighs, hanging his head and deliberately choosing not to look at me as he comes to stand with his brother. ” What,” Sinclair asks him as he arrives at his side. “More of a cigars in the waiting room kind of guy?”

“Yeah,” Roger agrees, giving his brother a little glare. “I’d say that’s much more my vibe.”

you here,” I say to him, giving him a tired little smile. “I want you to

voice kinder now as he meets my gaze. “Just….when you’ve cleaned it up a bit. Gotten

the soft surface of the mattress that makes it harder for her to see what’s really going on. Roger tries to muffle his groan as he turns away,

pant, working to catch my breath. “This is rare, even for a wolf birth. But you should be in the final

–

Cora rolls her eyes at him a little bit when he says this. I have no idea what that could mean is there trouble in paradise? – but honestly, any of my interest in that question is immediately wiped out when the

pushing with all of my might during the contractions and then resting, as best I can, in the short spaces between them. I can feel my baby moving inside me, progressing along. It’s hard, agonizing work, but my sister calls encouragement to me and my mate is by

of this pattern, Cora gives a little gasp. “Okay, he’s almost here!” she says, and the cheer in her voice is a balm to my agonized body. I look at her with hope in my eyes and she gives me a happy little nod. “One big push, sis, and his head will

despite the pain ravaging my body. I wait for the next contraction and, when it comes and Cora tells me to, I push – absolutely as hard as I can, giving a guttural yell while I do in that I

me, “he’s here, Ella! Just a couple more to bring forward

begin to push again. And push, and push. I gasp, laying back and panting as I feel the contraction end, and I look to Cora for instructions. Instead of a happy smile, though, I see her exchange an odd

and moaning at the pain that shoots through my back.” What’s wrong? Where’s my

their work. Inaction and the passing of responsibility to another – no matter how much they outstrip him in their expertise – has never been his strong suit. My

and exchange glances again, then looking down at the baby. I struggle

but

shakes her head at me, leaning forward to press

fixed on Sinclair. “Please, you

that her face

in the past few pushes. Which is

because he’s such a large baby,

gasp, suddenly horrified. Sinclair goes

with large babies. It’s

confused, baffled, horribly worried. “What do

says, though her worried voice belies her words.