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!”

I say, grinning and

says, sighing and waving her hand. “Honestly, Ella, you keep it – you’re Mrs. Sinclair too! And you’ve given

say, rolling my eyes and grinning, pressing it into her hands. “If you don’t

that, taking the outfit and starting

my own dress and reaching for some soft clothes

wow, for the first time in our lives,”

as I do, and we both laugh with

a little, wanting to be left in peace, and I murmur my apology before tucking him in again and wheeling the little bassinet into the bedroom with us so that we

Sinclair and I put at the end of the bed. Considering

curling up on her side of the little couch and facing me. ” Nothing good, obviously but…” she turns her head

for Rafe?” I posit, glancing

a very definite move in marking Rafe as his heir. It kind of makes

mean?” I

my eyes go wide even at the 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

reaching out a foot to nudge her on the knee, insisting

waves a hand at me, dismissing the idea, but I grin and nudge her again, letting her know that she’s

still, I take her point. “So,” I

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 successfully countered every move that he’s made. We’ve got him on the run, and now he’s embarrassed himself in

Xander really has 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 brought him here less

may be realizing that his time and

So, he’s scrambling.

do?” I wonder

straws are left to him,” Cora says softly, clearly thinking it through as she speaks. “He’d grab at whatever he thought was rightfully his, whatever he can hoard