The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Ella

Sinclair walks Cora and I swiftly back to our suite of rooms, Rafe still bundled safely in Cora’s arms. When we get there, Sinclair gives me a swift kiss on my head, already looking down the hall.

“I’m going to catch up with Roger,” he murmurs. “We’ll send dad to you whenever we find him -”

“Why,” I say, grabbing his hand, worried. “Why don’t you all just come here?”

Sinclair shakes his head as he looks down at me. “We need eyes on Xander we have to talk to the staff, see if anyone knows where he went. I promise – we’ll both come to you as soon as we have more information. All right?”

I bite my lip but I nod, not liking it but trusting him. With his own nod of assurance, Sinclair strides away.

“Come on, bride,” I say, pushing the door open to my room and allowing Cora to sweep through with my baby and her long train. “Let’s get you changed into something more comfortable.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Cora sighs. “I mean, this dress is fantastic, but it’s heavy.”

“Oh, you poor thing, in fifty pounds of silk and satin,” I murmur sarcastically, kicking off my heels and leading all of us into the closet. Before I do anything, though, I take my sweet baby from my sister and lower him down into the wheeled bassinet that’s waiting there for him. I’ll transfer him to his real crib later, but he’s perfectly happy taking a little nap here before I change him.

“He’s such an easy baby,” Cora says with a sigh as I move behind her and start to un-do all of the buttons that run down her back. “How did you get so lucky?”

“He’s just an angel,” I say, my voice overly doting, making us laugh. “But seriously,” I say, “I think wolf babies are just different. A lot less crying, a lot more understanding between parents and child even when they’re that young. It’s incredibly convenient.”

“I hope that’s true,” Cora says, her hand absently going to her own stomach. “I don’t have as much patience as you, so if this kid isn’t as easy as Rafey here? We’re going to have trouble.”

“You’ll be great,” I say, grinning at her as I finish with the buttons and she starts to shimmy out of the dress. As she does I move to lift the soft white sweatsuit I had made for her off the shelf. Cora gasps when she sees it. “Ella!” she says, hands on her hips. “You didn’t!”

Sinclair on the back,” I say, grinning and handing

it – you’re Mrs.

stop,” I say, rolling my eyes and grinning, pressing it into her hands. “If you don’t think I had my own

the outfit and starting to pull it on. “Well, it’s

I say, unzipping my own dress and reaching for some soft clothes myself. “Plus, we get to have the same name now, officially.

going a bit still, realizing it. “Oh wow, for the first time in our lives,” she

grin at her, glad she thinks it’s as cool as I do, and we both laugh with the pleasure of

changed, I change Rafe into his own pajamas – he fusses a little, wanting to be left in peace, and I murmur my apology before tucking him in again and wheeling the

new little loveseat that Sinclair and I put at the end of the bed. Considering that

her side of the little couch and facing me. ” Nothing good, obviously but…” she turns her head to the side, considering. “Well, if you were Xander, what

posit, glancing

very definite move in marking Rafe as his heir. It

do you mean?” I ask,

hypothetical thought. She moves on quickly. “Either way,” Cora continues, “Rafe is already Sinclair’s heir to his throne. There’s no way for Xander to really claim Rafe as his own now as part of Xavier’s line. Rafe’s thoroughly a Sinclair, just like us. If Rafe inherits, the people who would be his obvious guardians would be you,

foot to nudge her on the knee, insisting

dismissing the idea, but I grin and nudge her again, letting her know that

“So,” I say softly, “you think he’s

she says softly, her eyes un- focusing a little as she accesses the strategic part of her mind. “I think that while Xander hasn’t made it easy, the Sinclairs have

been worked into a corner. He’s got very few resources left, and if he’s realizing as we perhaps have that the Atalaxians have

be realizing that his time and

So, he’s scrambling.

would he do?” I wonder aloud,

through as she speaks. “He’d grab at whatever he thought was rightfully his, whatever he can hoard to make himself