The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Ella

Sinclair and I wake up late the next morning and frankly I’m grateful that everyone let us sleep in. We had to get up to feed Rafe, of course, but even with that? It’s the most sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.

“Morning,” I murmur, turning over to Sinclair and slinging a leg up over his hip, feeling just… ridiculously relaxed for someone who fought off a pack of kidnappers in her bedroom yesterday.

Sinclair doesn’t say anything, just growls a hungry little greeting and pulls my naked body closer to his, rolling over me a little so that I can feel the delicious weight of him on top of me as he kisses my neck, my shoulder, and then my mouth. “We’re skipping breakfast,” he murmurs, sliding his hand leisurely down the length of my body, “I have different idea for how we can spend

the time

”

“Noooo,” I moan in protest, my stomach audibly growling in support. “I need fooooood!”

Sinclair laughs and pulls away from me then. “Am I not sustenance enough for you?” he asks

pretending to be offended. “Here,” he says, offering his arm, bulging with muscles, “take a bite. It

will keep you going.”

I bare my teeth and lean forward towards it, making my mate laugh, but then I just press a quick kiss to the arm and push him away, reaching for the baby who is starting to fuss in his cradle at

the sound of our voices.

“As delicious as you are,” I call over my shoulder to Sinclair as I lean down to scoop Rafe into my arms, “the baby and I need pancakes.”

“Then pancakes you shall have,” Sinclair murmurs, yawning and crossing to the little metal

bathroom door in the corner of the room. “But I hope that you are aware that these will be bunker

pancakes,” he adds, twisting the nob and pushing his way through, “by which I mean plain toast.”

I laugh, nodding to indicate that that’s fine by me, and then I spend a few sweet minutes alone

with my son, talking softly to him while I feed him his own breakfast, taking my time looking

over, admiring his little face and his thick thatch of black hair, mussed from sleep.

little, thinking that this will surely be

can it end

Sinclair

in the morning we gather in the conference room at the end of the

I look around at the men who we have brought with us, but honestly I’m proud of them. Many worked through the night to develop

were working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing a bit more

constant instinct is to work, and to push, and to keep going. Ella and Rafe need my attention as well, just as much as my business and

Dominic,” my father murmurs to me as he rolls up to my side, his voice quiet enough that no one is likely to

“What?” I ask, surprised.

paperwork on the table and beginning to

keep it clear? I’m your father, boy. We still have a bond, even if

father’s shoulder, grateful for him. Roger comes over to us and gives us a sharp little nod, which we both return, and then I laugh a little

bodily movements we all have in common. My dad laughs a

loop, but I shake my head at him a little to

and he just shrugs it off, leaning in front of

up

and Ella come through the door,

to everyone they encounter, Ella showing off the baby

Cora handing out little cups of coffee that

wide as

looking between Roger and our mates, trying to figure out the

tight, “do you not see the issue

that I don’t,

his hand down his face swiftly in a mix of worry

this, since you’ve been

into your life –”

but Roger gives me a significant look and I shut my mouth, frowning

arms over my chest but letting him

I love her, but you let her get away with things that you wouldn’t let anyone

protest, but he continues

–

calling your judgement into doubt – but I have had the privilege of getting

at Roger, but he ignores