Chapter 436 – Falling for the Alpha as a Surrogate Novel

Filed To Story: Falling for the Alpha as a Surrogate Novel

“Oh my goodness,” Gabriel says, laughing and taking Rafe from my hands and cradling him in his arms, staring down at him with true joy. Then he laughs, lifting his head to Sinclair at my side, his eyes crinkling with pleasure at the edges. “Well,” he says, reaching for my mate and giving him a warm hug around the shoulders. “No need to guess who this child’s father is. He’s the image of you, Dom.” “Ah, he’s got some of his mother in there,” Sinclair says, returning his old friend’s warm hug.

“Lies,” I sigh, reaching to take the baby back and snuggling him close to me.

“He’s all Dominic, and it’s taking its toll on my poor arms,” I murmur, hefting Rafe up. Everyone laughs at my joke, because they can see it’s plainly true Rafe is a big baby for his nearly- four-month age; he’s already wearing six-month clothes, sometimes eight.

But he’s also adorable, so I forgive him.

Rafe’s tired, I know, but he’s being so good. And frankly, I want him here by my side through all of this. Not everyone in this room is our friend, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving him alone even with any of the nannies who we’ve hired even though I’ve gotten very close with several of them. I started out as a nanny, after all they’re some of the people in my new life who I’ve grown closest to.

Gabriel and Sinclair move slightly to the side, exchanging more warm greetings and giving me a chance to greet several of our old friends, including James, Isabel, and sweet Sadie, who have been separated for at least a month while James went back to Vanara to serve as our ambassador while Isabel and Sadie stayed here so that Isabel could work with me on the camps. We’ve made incredible progress, which has been a delight to me, but we’ve also got quite a bit of work still to do.

I grin when I see Thomas as well, the King’s rather discreet boyfriend, towards the back of the delegation. I give him a happy wave, which he returns with a little bow, and I make a mental note to get to know him much more on this trip than I did the last one.

Our time with the Vanarans goes far too fast but there’s a literal line of people waiting to come and greet us, so we only have about three minutes with each to greet them and make plans and promises to meet up again soon.

Still, I breaks my heart to only be able to spend moments with the people who mean so much to me I find myself a little overwhelmed when they begin to move away, waving and calling their goodbyes.

I’m still waving, Rafe clutched to my side, when I feel Cora step up next to me. I can feel her tension already.

“What is it?” I ask, the smile falling from my face as I look over at my sweet sister. She looks amazing, dressed in a lavender gown with a little cape draped formally over her shoulders. I’m wearing something similar, but all in white, which makes my rose-gold hair shine out like a beacon.

But Cora, even though she’s beautiful, is clearly worried. Serious, she raises her chin at the delegation that’s coming next and I turn towards them, surprised to see each of the members dressed in serious black clothing, standing in four straight lines of five people each. They look more like a military formation than a delegation of ambassadors.

And I note suddenly that they’re…all men.

“Are you ready for this?” Cora asks, quiet. I shift Rafe to my other side and reach out to grab her hand. “I guess we have to be.” Then, Cora and I take a deep breath, moving forward to greet the Atalaxians.

Sinclair steps close to my other side so that Rafe is bet**en us. My hand still holds Cora’s on my left as Roger steps to her side.

But still, facing this delegation? I’m a little glad that we’ve got some intimidating credentials to speak for us. Brave little mate, Sinclair says to me down the bond, making my smirk deepen. I’m glad you’re letting them see that you’re not scared of them.

Oh, I’m scared of them, I pass back, not bothering to look up at him for support.

But you’re right. There’s no reason for them to see it.

He gives me a warm nudge of support as the first line of five Atalaxians step forward and give a bow. The man at the far left of the line steps forward then, beginning to speak. He introduces himself first – the first and most significant member – and then moves on to each new delegate, who bows his heads to us each in turn.

I turn my head a little as this formal introduction progresses, because this is … odd. I understand that this reception has a rather official quality, but each of the greetings we’ve given to each delegation before this has been warm and chatty, with people introducing themselves warmly or greeting Sinclair and I as old friends, if they know us.

The Atalaxians? They don’t say a word, instead letting their singular speaker do all the work.

Still, I do my best to follow along as Rafe begins to fuss in my arms, not liking something – I don’t know what, though. I hold him higher, tighter against me, trying to pass a little calmness down our bond so that he can relax, maybe fall asleep. The baby responds to this, resting his head against my ch*st a little and settling.

The speaker finishes introducing the first line of delegates, which includes the predictable ambassadors and senators who have been sent to witness the coronation and have discussions about the future connections bet**en our two nations.

However, when the first row clears, moving away and revealing the second row, I’m surprised to hear the speaker introduce a Prince, which makes my eyes raise. Why had he not been included in the first row? Wouldn’t he be the highest-ranking delegate?

I study the Prince as he steps forward and gives his bow, though I admit that I do not catch his name, which I kick myself for. I’m a Queen now or about to be. I should be paying attention.

When he raises from his bow I find myself a bit struck by him, if I’m being honest. He’s about my age, and tall, with dark hair and a handsome face with eyes such a light blue-violet that they surprise me in his dark-featured face.

While he’s broad shouldered, he’s a great deal slimmer than my own mate, though the power than emanates from him.

I blink, again surprised. He is…not someone to be trifled with. I don’t know how I know it, but I do – I’m absolutely sure of it. The prince nods steadily to Sinclair, looking serious but perhaps even a little bored, like he’s done this a thousand times. And then turns his eyes to me, but when our eyes meet he goes a bit rigid in the shoulders.

My eyes go wide, surprised at his reaction as he stands straight, staring at me for a long moment. Sinclair reacts instantly, a subtle growl building in his ch*st as he takes just one step forward.

The Prince comes back to himself in a second, his eyes fl**king to Sinclair before he regains his bored composure, nodding to me, and then to Cora, and then to Roger before stepping back in line.

Surprised, confused, I look up at my mate, whose shoulders are stiff with displeasure.

What…what on earth just happened?

That line of delegates is dismissed and Rafe starts to fuss again in my arms, unhappy.

I begin to coo to him, upset that he’s upset. Honestly, my sweet baby hardly ever cries, instead letting us know what he needs through little taps and pulses down the bond to which we respond as quickly as we can. It’s honestly the best part of being a wolf mother – and an aspect of it I never really considered until Rafe came along.

I look up at Sinclair, worried. “I think I have to take him out,” I murmur, glancing down at the baby.

A moment, my mate replies, mind-to-mind, though he reaches out a hand behind me to settle on my back. I need us all here, for this delegation at least. If he cries, he cries. And I nod, understanding and turning back to the crowd.

The third line of Atalaxian delegates disappears, and the fourth moves forward. I watch passively as they each step forward and nod to us. I nod in turn, though I admit that my attention is decidedly focused on my son, who cries in earnest now, unhappy. I hold him tight, bouncing him in my arms, worried and wanting him to feel better.

I send a little curious pulse down the line, which has worked before sometimes he passes me an emotion, or has even given me a brief imp**ssion of the thing he wants – But today, nothing. He’s just upset. My eyes are totally focused on the baby, ignoring the final members of the delegation in my maternal concern for my son, when suddenly the speaker’s words catch my immediate attention.

“Our final delegate,” the speakers says, “is Duke Xander of Moon Valley, who has been given honorary citizenship in Atalaxia for his services as advisor to the King.” My eyes flash up, going wide as they focus on my uncle, the man who tried to steal my son.

Inside me my gift flares hot with rage, channeling something from Cora’s that speaks to heat, and burning, and destruction – She grabs my arm, sensing it, and I can feel her own fear in her grip, but something about it works – she holds me back from reacting at all, giving me a moment to reel myself back in. It was the right choice, I see, as Sinclair immediately steps forward for both of us, glaring down at the Duke.

“You should have asked,” he growls, violence in every line of him now, and I can feel him holding himself back from murdering Xander this instant, “about whether this man was welcome upon our nation’s soil. Because he is not. This man is a war criminal, and wanted for several crimes in Moon Valley – including the attempted kidnapping of our Prince.” Sinclair takes another step forward, clearly ready to either tear Xander to pieces or take him into custody – I honestly don’t know which – Xander an old, wrinkled man with cruelty in every line of his face – just smirks up at Sinclair, not moving an inch.

But the Atalaxian speaker – a high- ranking senator himself – steps forward then, interceding. “Alpha Sinclair,” he says, his word heavy with the acknowledgement that my mate is not yet King, “Duke Xander is a protected member of our delegation an Ambassador. If you harm him or take him into custody, it will be considered an act of war.” Sinclair’s growl deepens as he turns violent eyes on the senator now. “And did you think it would not be war already, when you brought him as a member of your delegation? After, surely, you know all he has done to us, to our family?”

“We had hoped,” the senator drawls, a smug look coming to his face, “that you’d be more reasonable than that, Alpha.”

Rage continues to burn hot within me as I stare at the old man before me who looks fixedly at the baby in my arms, and doesn’t bother – not even once to raise his eyes to me.

Rafe wails with displeasure, perhaps feeling my rage and my fear, perhaps… god, I don’t know, perhaps sensing some malevolence from this man as well Cora’s hand tightens on my arm and I nod slightly, just once, letting her know that I’m not going to do anything stupid. I feel her hand hesitate, and then loosen, just a little bit.

Sinclair, to my surprise, takes a step back. I snap my gaze up to him because honestly, I was looking forward to seeing this man’s blood on his claws. But then I remember, of course, that he is a King now or at least, close enough.

And damn it, it will be war if we kill Xander now. I settle uncomfortable under the realization that part of the responsibilities of rule mean measuring our vengeance against what is good for our nation.

And so I send Sinclair a little pulse of support as he steps back, even though my wolf scrabbles and claws in me to be let loose, to be allowed to rip his throat out.

Sinclair doesn’t check his glare, or his growl, as Xander steps back into line with the rest of the Atalaxian ranks. And I know that hatred radiates from all of us as the delegation as a whole moves away. I keep my eyes on them, every step.

And I note that the only one who looks back is the violet-eyed prince.

Who looks directly at me.

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