Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

Chapter 345 – Parting

Ella

I blink, surprised, when I hear a laugh tumble from Roger’s mouth. Honestly, I had expected anything else. Yelling? Yes. Begging? Sure. Stern orders? Absolutely.

Anything, really, except the low chuckle that falls from Roger’s lips as he leans back and puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m serious,” Cora says, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “I’m going with you. You need me.”

“Cora,” Roger says, shaking his head. “I need you, absolutely. But if you think for a second that I’m letting my pregnant mate climb into a sewer with me as part of an attack on an unknown enemy.

“Well if you wouldn’t let me do it, why on earth would I let you do it!” she counters, angry.

“Because I’m not pregnant!” Roger shouts back, angry, as if it’s obvious. Sinclair shifts a little, moving behind me – his arms still around my shoulders – so we can both watch.

“We’re pregnant,” Cora shouts, pointing between herself and him. “ This is not a me or a you kind of thing! I am not interested in single motherhood on what is essentially day two of this pregnancy!”

“Cora,” Roger sighs, putting an exhausted hand on his forehead. “This is my job. This is what we do. You can’t ask me to back away from it.”

“Why not, when you’re doing the same to me?” Cora counters, shaking her head at him, being stubborn. I bite my lip, torn between wanting to support my sister and frankly agreeing with Roger. There’s absolutely no way in hell that Cora should be going on this mission.

“What are you talking about?” Roger asks, frustrated. “I can help,” she says, pointing at herself, “I’m a doctor. You guys are going to get all torn up out there – you need me!”

Sinclair asks, speaking to me mind-to-mind as I lean back against him, tense as we watch our

internally, wanting them to figure this out on their own if they can. But even if it did come to something as simple as a vote? It’s three to one. Cora’s

It will be enough to hold us through it

you could die! And how the hell would I feel, for the rest of my life – what would I tell our child – when I remembered that I could have

see him falter, no knowing how to reply. And frankly I’m torn by the idea as well if Sinclair died, and I could have done

Sinclair asks me, his own inner voice dark

away from her mate

I reply, with a little shrug. “Your argument goes both ways. How the hell would Roger feel

to look at him, surprised,

towards him, placing her hands on Roger’s shoulders, turning him back towards her and wrapping her arms around his waist. She lays her head on his chest when he puts

he murmurs, his lips against his hair. “I’m sorry. But Cora,

what I’ve gotten myself into? Battle after battle, fight after fight? Constantly worried about whether

intense emotions at her question, looking up at Sinclair and meeting his eyes as he shakes his head steadily at me. No, he says, firm in my

his arms around

pass through the door and head down the hall, both of us silent, me

Sinclair asks me as we head into our

born,” Sinclair says, nodding to the baby as I carry him over to his little makeshift crib. “This isn’t the first time you’ve sent me

“since very early on, he was my little guy. But no,” I reply, straightening and looking up at my mate, who stands close to me. “It’s always horrible, Dominic. I’m never going to get used to it. That time we

at the memory. He shushes me a little, pressing a finger to my mouth, and I nod, understanding. It’s not that he doesn’t want me to engage with