Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

“And I am leaving immediately,” Roger adds in, making us all laugh. “Seriously,” he says, “I’m useless until the kid is old enough to throw a ball. Then, it’s all Uncle Roger.” (2

I smile at him, pleased, and take his hand to squeeze it, letting him know how glad I am that he came. His eyes soften as he looks at me, and I know he feels the same.

“All right,” I say, sighing and climbing into the bed. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Then, everyone goes to their work, Roger and Hank leaving the room and Cora sitting next to me to help me through the first steps of breastfeeding. Sinclair sits close by, clearly interested, but not interfering as Cora shows me how to help the baby latch. I feel a whole new rush of emotion as I feel him begin to suck, as I feel the milk start to flow and feed my baby.

“There,” Cora says softly, and I look at her with tears in my eyes. “See? You’re a natural.”

“Where should he sleep?” I ask, looking around, suddenly desperate. We don’t have a basinet, of course.

Cora just shrugs. “You’ll figure it out. Use your mom instincts. People were having babies for thousands of years before hospitals came to answer these questions for them about how to have their first night.” She grins a little wickedly at Sinclair and me. “I don’t think you two are going to get much sleep anyway, but…you’ll figure it out.”

I laugh a little and return my gaze to my baby, whose eyes are closed as I hold him warm against my chest. “That’s right, baby,” I whisper. “We’re going to figure it out.”

“Okay,” my sister says, standing and giving me a kiss on the forehead. “You’re a marvel, Ella,” she whispers. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll see you at the hospital tomorrow.”

I nod, but don’t look at her, instead staring at my son. My new baby, this much- and long–desired child who is finally, finally here.

I feel the weight of Sinclair’s body on the bed next to me as the door clicks shut behind Cora, but I don’t take my eyes away from Rafe as Sinclair wraps his arms around me.

“Well,” Sinclair sighs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “This is the start of a whole new era. Are you ready for it?”

mate, eager. “I’m ready for it. I’ve been waiting for this

as I push through the doors of the palace but I also feel oddly…complete. It’s more than the general happiness I feel after one of my patients safely delivers

something…else in the air. More than just a job well done. I reflect, suddenly, that maybe it’s the knowledge that I have

one of the guards standing at the bottom of the steps, wanting to make sure that it’s safe to leave, and begin to take a step when he waves me forward. However, I jump when I

I know without turning who it belongs to. I turn,

ask, watching him as he walks slowly over to me, his hands sunk deep in his pockets.” Well, that’s not much of a surprise.

stand close to me. Close enough that I can almost feel his words as breath on my cheek, as well as hear them. “But only one of us is the daughter

“Well,” I say, a little awkward. I haven’t talked to Roger in weeks, let alone this casually. “I suppose

says, hesitating, and I see his hand reaching for mine. I flinch

suddenly mad. “What are you even doing here? Weren’t you so eager to get home?”

little shrug, looking out at the newly–quiet city. “The troops quelled the riots, but that doesn’t mean that everyone went home and no one’s lurking in the dark wanting to make mischief.” He looks at me then,

from him and heading down the steps to where my car is parked. “Thanks for the thought,

me, his voice

to glare at him. “What, Roger! I don’t need you to protect me! I don’t need this!”

need what?” he asks, challenging me. “You don’t need help getting home? Or you don’t need

it, Roger,” I growl, almost through my teeth, shaking my head at him. “Seriously? Now? You want to

angry now. “The absolute nothing that is us?”

back at him, but he’s too quick for

to,” Roger pushes, “how could I? You’re always with

ask, sarcastic, my eyes going wide. “Is that the great barrier? Have

phone, Cora?” Roger asks, closing the distance between us, his

conversation?” I hiss. “Like you said. It’s the nothing that is us. There’s nothing to say.” I grit my teeth and turn then, heading back down the stairs, fast and mad,

him to see the