Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Bringing Aid Ella Our first night in the palace is so strange for me.

My two boys are sleeping soundly on either side of me – Sinclair sprawled out over our supersized bed (it’s much bigger than a King – I don’t even know if they have a name for it anymore; we had to make a custom order) and Rafe’s bassinet is pulled up close on my other side.

I look first at my mate and then at my little baby, smiling at each of them, marveling at how much they already resemble each other with their dark hair and their wide-set eyes, each framed with dark lashes.

My smile deepens as I look between them.

I mean, Sinclair is of course lacking Rafe’s pudgy cheeks, but the resemblance is still uncanny.

It’s very, veryclear who this baby’s daddy is.

“Rude of you, little baby,” I whisper, rolling over on my side and peeking into the bassinet, “to not bother looking like me at all.” He sighs a little in his sleep and wiggles, getting more comfortable.

It’s so cute that I think my heart might burst at the sight of it.

But the sight of my super-cute little baby can only do so much to distract me from all of the thoughts racing through my mind right now.

I roll onto my back and stare at the distant ceiling, turning them over one-by-one.

Half of them pertain to the wedding, which I really am excited about.

And I do think it’s a good idea – half of the trouble of bringing this nation together is suggesting to humans and wolves alike that this nation respects both kinds of persons – and that we’re allequal.

A marriage between them – especially as publicized as Sinclair thinks it should be will go far with both populations in suggesting that the Royal family, at least, truly embraces this idea.

I wrinkle my nose and laugh a little at the thought of myself as part of aroyal family- I’m nowhere near fancy enough for such a title – but then I sigh again, distracted.

Because Sinclair’s other point is still valid – I know, in my heart, that I want to help our citizens, helpeveryone.

use in our nation’s hospitals to actually physically help people… But is that what I really want to do? Is that the best use of

I turn over and slide open the drawer by my bedside table, pulling out the cellphone that I

send off a text: Isabel! I’ve been a bad friend – but we’re

neglecting my friendship, especially after I asked her to stay here instead of going home – I send off my message

she is if not a bit sharp-edged at times,

gotten started on a plan, I finally drift

morning, he groans as he rolls over to turn it off,

eyes in surprise when

soon as I heard the alarm, I gasped and rolled away, reaching for my phone, desperate to see if Isabel

excited to see that I have a message

“What?” Sinclair asks, groggy.

“Nothing,” I murmur, quickly flicking my

back to sleep.” Ignoring him, I eagerly click open Isabel’s

been so worried! Please come and see me – I want to hug

any time

eagerly start to type out my reply but, before I get far, I hear a snarl behind me and

gasp and then shriek in shock as Sinclair pulls me, laughing, across the bed to settle tightly against his

“Ohh, poor big scary

his teeth at me – an act that would probably make some men quail but which only makes me laugh.” We’re going to have

this new

murmurs, dropping his head to drag kisses along my neck and down across his shoulder, the tickly stubble of his beard making

could think of a few other things to call you.” “Oh really,” I sigh,” rolling one shoulder back so that Sinclair can

he offers,

phone first thing in

to.”

burying my fingers in his silky black hair and letting my head tilt back a little at the pleasure