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Accidental Surrogate for Alpha novel Chapter 400

#Chapter 400 – 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.

Because Sinclair’s other point is still valid – I know, in my heart, that I want to help our citizens, helpeveryone. And I have this incredible healing power that I could use in our nation’s hospitals to actually physically help people…

But 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 quickly pull up a familiar name in my contacts and send off a text:

Isabel! I’ve been a bad friend – but we’re back now, from where we had to go. Do you have a minute tomorrow? To talk?

Biting my lip – because I really do feel bad about neglecting my friendship, especially after I asked her to stay here instead of going home – I send off my message and hope that my friend can forgive me.

But, considering how good and kind she is if not a bit sharp-edged at times, I think, smiling – I think, and hope, that she’ll forgive me.

Then, feeling a little better at having gotten started on a plan, I finally drift off to sleep.

When Sinclair’s alarm 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 see if Isabel replied. Yesss,” I whisper, excited to see that I have a message waiting. “What?” Sinclair asks, groggy. “What’s happening?” “Nothing,” I murmur, quickly flicking my messages open. Go back to sleep.” Ignoring him, I eagerly click open Isabel’s reply.

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