The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Ella

The trip improves by leaps and bounds the moment we stop at the campground for the night.

“Finally,” I sigh, taking a deep breath of the fresh air as I climb down the steps of the RV, my

baby curled in my arm and looking around him with bright and interested eyes. “It’s good to be on

steady ground again.”

“Remind me never to take you on a boat,” Sinclair murmurs, coming down the stairs behind me.

If you didn’t like this…you won’t respond well to that.”

“Yes sir,” I say passively, smiling down at the baby, who frees one of his arms and reaches out

into the cool evening air, clasping his fingers at a firefly who passes close by. I don’t mention that

I liked the sea voyage to the desert much more than I liked this, even though the accommodations

weren’t as nice.

“What about this?” Sinclair murmurs as he steps down the final step and comes to stand behind

me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I smile as I lean back against his chest. “Is the forest

an improvement?”

I look around our isolated campsite, lit with grey and blue tones in the dying light of the day. I

smile at what I see, appreciating the cool air and the blinking light of the fireflies that float lazily

through the space.

“Yes,” I say with a decisive nod. “This will do quite well.”

“Good,” Sinclair replies, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing me and moving to a luggage compartment low on the RV. I watch as he opens it and begins pulling out camping gear – chairs, a cooler, some bags with extra snacks and bug spray.

“Oh!” I say, surprised by it all as my mate begins to set it all up around a burned-out ring where a

fire goes. “Oh, we’re very prepared.”

“Of course we are,” Roger says, climbing out of the RV with Cora behind him. When he reaches. the ground, Roger flicks the switch that prepares Henry’s little elevator. “We’re always ready to go

glamping in this family.”

I laugh at the term, settling into a chair that Sinclair waves me towards, smiling down at the baby “What do you think, Rafe?” I whisper to him “Do you like glamping?” He gives a happy little coo in response and I laugh, grinning up at his father. “I think that’s a yes

“Kid has taste,” Sinclair says, winking at me as he continues his work

much faster than I thought was possible

Cora and I and giving

Otherwise, they’re not

true!” Sinclair protests, his eyes still

chimes in, making us laugh. “If I’m making food, it’s grilled. Otherwise. I’m

your baby is gonna eat a lot of hotdogs,” I murmur

looks over at me from her chair next to mine. “You know

make them hire us chefs,” I consider. She raises her

long into the night – the family gathered happily around the fire, talking about nothing and everything, chatting lightly about what we’ll be doing in our mutual future but not touching on any of the big, scary subjects that lurk behind the conversation. We all know that they’re there, after all – and we all

laughter,

smore that Sinclair hands me, the marshmallow burned to a crisp just the way I like it. “Oh my god,” I murmur, closing my eyes as I chew. “This is so good, I can barely

dripping,” Sinclair laughs, “you’re going to get

head and refusing to open my eyes as I take another bite –

as he comes and lifts Rafe from my arms I let him, wanting to be alone. with my s’more anyway Cora, Roger, and Henry laugh as well as Sinclair walks Rafe away from me, apologizing in a loud murmur for how messy and inconsiderate his mother is I wave a hand at him, dismissing

family, watching them quietly Henry watches Sinclair and his grandchild while Cora and Roger sit close to each other, not

around at our dark Camp 7 didn’t think I’d

dark

murs to sing

murmurs

then turning her head to look at Roger,

him.

help my own smile from crossing my face as I watch them. And then,

I decide that

I stand up from my little camping chair

me, curious and I nod my head first towards the RV

begin talking quietly. My mate

his father and puts a hand

as stealthily as we can – which is not very stealthy,

the three of us and

mobile house, leaving Cora and Roger alone by the fire to

do you think they’re talking about,” I say to Sinclair as he climbs last

baby still curled in his arms. I’m sitting in the

the window at Roger and Cora

that their business, little spy?” he says, coming

give us our own moment, rolls his way back

television, though we both know he

and reaching for my baby, who Sinclair

know I always want to

laughs. “Do you know,” he murmurs, slipping his arms low

chin on my shoulder

as much about the details of my brother’s

still peering out at them. “Roger’s hot. He probably has had lots

girlfriend drama -”

going stiff behind

turning to