Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

“What do you mean I made it snow?” Cora frowns at me as she bustles around the kitchen, making mimosas. ” That’s ridiculous – you must have imagined it.”

“It totally snowed!” I protest, laughing and shaking my head at her, turning to Sinclair at the table for support.

“It did,” he says, raising his eyebrows at Cora even as he hands Rafe another slice of apple. “”The news is completely baffled by the sudden cold-snap that immediately disappeared by morning. They’re calling it the duke’s miracle.”

“What!?” Cora gasps, spinning to stare at Sinclair wide-eyed.

“That’s so cool,” Roger says, grinning at baby Jesse in his arms, who peers up at his dad with sleepy eyes.” Mom’s magic, Jesse,” he whispers. ” It’s very cool.”

“You guys are just teasing me,” Cora sighs, leaning against the counter as I turn the knob on the stove, cutting off the fire beneath the pan of eggs, sausage, and bacon that I’ve finished frying up.

“Dominic is dead serious,” I say, nodding to Cora eagerly with raised eyebrows. “Seriously, word got to the media that the nation’s beloved duchess had her baby and that night it snowed unseasonably early – people are freaking out.” I laugh a little as I starting to portion our breakfast out onto plates.

“Oh my god,” Cora says, covering her face with her hands. “I didn’t even mean to do that – do you really think it was me?”

“You tend to affect the weather when you’re emotional,” Roger says, grinning at his magical mate with a happy shrug. “I think it makes a lot of sense.”

“Oh, that’s so weird,” Cora says with a sigh, shaking her head at Roger and then at me. “People are going to start figuring out what we can do, Ella,” she says. “We’re going to need to have some sort of story.”

“I think my secrets kind of already out,” I say, giving a little grimace. ”

And why do we have to tell anyone anything? Just let the rumors fly – it’s not anyone’s business but ours.”

“Yeah,” Cora says, rolling her eyes at me before turning back to her previous task of adding the world’s tiniest amount of orange juice to nearly-full glasses of champagne. “Until they burn us at the stake for being witches or something.”

“We won’t let them do that,” Sinclair murmurs, smirking a little as he focuses his attention on Rafe’s breakfast.

if it’s inconsequential, “it’s not like it will work. You can

burst out laughing at this and Cora,

you’re right and it doesn’t really matter at least not until our children develop some weird gifts that

herself, raising it to all of us in a

my lips before putting the drink down on the

much as I would usually love to toast my nephew’s birth with a festive

my reasons for not drinking are so much better. Still, it’s Cora’s day, and I don’t want to steal her thunder just yet. Not that I think

ask, raising

frowning over at him. “But that’s

a little. “He’ll find his patterns soon, don’t worry.

same,” she says, giving me a little smile.

at her, remembering that habit in the early days of a

Cora says, laughing already and glancing over at Roger, “are already used to

Roger says, looking at her completely unashamed

smiles. I grin, truly appreciating their teasing relationship. “You need

the baby during the day,” Roger says, gesturing to the baby cradled in his arm. “At night,

of childcare without complaint, day or night.

baby all day,” Sinclair asks, turning mischievous eyes on his brother,

you run the military from the

at Jesse like it’s obvious. “Never too early to

picturing Roger in his admiral’s uniform with a baby asleep on his shoulder, a little barf dribbling down his back. And honestly, I don’t mind it as much as I probably should. These Sinclair dads – I don’t think they’re going to have any

girl in the picture. Would Roger have said the same thing – that

with two big Alpha boys who are barely a year older than her, and I’m damn well going to have a word with them if they

says, passing the words discreetly into my mind but keeping his eyes on Rafe as Cora sets out the breakfast plates that I

light worry but also letting him know that it’s not