The Mystical Attraction of Alpha
Chapter 399: 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.
I know, in my heart, that I want to help our citizens, helpeveryone. And
is that what I really want to do? Is that the best use of my gifts? Then, quite suddenly, I remember someone who might be able to help. As quietly as I can, I turn over and slide open the drawer by my bedside table, pulling out the cellphone that I haven’t had for weeks since we’ve been away in the bunker. I flick it on and then
from where we had to
feel bad about neglecting my friendship, especially after I asked her to stay here instead of going
at times, I think, smiling – I
a little better at having gotten started on a plan, I finally drift off
rings the next morning, he groans as he rolls over to turn it off, and then he flops back in his spot and reaches out an arm for me. But he opens his eyes in surprise when his hand meets…nothing. Because as soon as I heard the alarm, I gasped and rolled away, reaching for my phone, desperate to
and see me – I want to hug you myself and assure myself that you’re all right. I’m at the Refugee Center – come by any time after
eagerly start to type out my reply but, before I get far, I hear a snarl behind me and feel a gigantic arm wrap tight
in my ear, pretending to
his arms so that my stomach is pressed against his, pouting mockingly up into his face. “Did you need your morning kiss and snuggle, or
can’t,” he growls, baring his teeth at me – an act that would probably make some men quail but which only makes
pressing myself tighter against him and wrapping my arms around
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