Accidental Surrogate, Chapter 383: Cora's Decision

"What?" Cora asked, laughing lightly. "What on earth could I possibly choose from?"

"Let's back up," Roger said, pulling her into the room and gesturing toward a chair. As she settled, Sinclair moved the armchair I used to feed Rafe closer. I murmured my thanks as I sat down. As Roger began, Sinclair swiftly provided everything I needed—burp cloth, blanket, etc.—and I smiled at his thoughtful anticipation. My Alpha is a warrior, but he's also a sweetheart, and I'm grateful for him every day. Everyone waited until I was settled with Rafe before Henry began.

"We discovered," Henry said, his eyes moving between me and Cora, "that Xander has fled east to Adalaxia."

"Shit," Cora sighed, slumping in her chair. My emotions mirrored hers. We knew Xander was on the run; we'd decimated his martial forces by eliminating his priests. But we feared he'd flee the country and find allies before we regrouped. It seems he did precisely that.

"Is Adalaxia a good place for him to go?" I didn't know much about the neighboring kingdom. Raised as a human, I'd been unaware of the hidden world of wolf kingdoms, with their own wars and politics, overlaying the human world map. Of course, since Damon revealed the wolves' existence, the maps have increasingly merged, but my knowledge of wolf politics could fill a book. Which, considering I'll likely be Queen soon, is unfortunate. I forced myself to focus on Henry's answer.

"Adalaxia is a notoriously ruthless wolf nation," he sighed. "They adhere even more strictly to their traditions than we do. Compared to them, we're ridiculously liberal."

"What does that mean?" Cora asked, crossing her arms, her face worried and confused.

"It means," Roger explained, "Xander has likely found allies who disagree with our nation's policy of equality between wolves and humans. They also," he hesitated, looking between me and Cora, "wouldn't like us having this conversation with our mates. For Adalaxians, women are…"

"Second-class citizens, at best," Sinclair finished. "And at worst, property."

I gasped, my eyes widening. "Seriously? Are they frozen in time five hundred years?"

"Not a bad way to think of it," Roger said, tilting his head. "Women aren't taught to read or write; they have a separate culture and remain strictly within their homes. It's… not great, in terms of rights."

"Gross," Cora said, her disgust evident. "Though, it explains why Xander went there, considering his attempt to use Ella as a broodmare."

"Precisely," Sinclair agreed. "They're staunch nationalists and monarchists. They'll likely respect Rafe's claim to the throne as Xavier's grandson, not my son. Therefore, they'll see Xander's claim to regency as legitimate."

"This is ridiculous," I said, sighing as I looked at my innocent baby, the center of so much turmoil.

"Agreed," Sinclair said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "It's unfortunate he reached Adalaxia so quickly. This would be easier if we'd caught him at the border and prosecuted him here."

"Why?" I asked. "Can't we demand his extradition?"

"We could," Sinclair replied, looking at me seriously. "If I were King. Which I'm not."

I blinked, confused, then understood.

"Oh," I said, my eyes widening. All other claims to the throne had been eliminated, and Sinclair was the likely successor… but he hadn't officially claimed the throne yet. He lacked the power to make demands.

"How quickly can you do it?" Cora asked, sitting up straight and looking at Sinclair. "Can we have a quick coronation? Crown you by morning?"

We laughed, but there was no cheer. We knew the answer. "It's more complicated," Sinclair said, running a hand through his hair. "I must claim the throne, and my claim must be ratified by the governors. It's bureaucratic nonsense—the kind Adalaxians don't care about. There, I'd have been King the moment I killed Damon. But," he shrugged, "that's what we get for wanting a nation where the people have a say. It's a better process—but slower."

"Can we start it?" I asked.

"We can," Sinclair said. "But here's where your choice comes in, Cora."

"Seriously," Cora said, spreading her hands on the table. "Tell me what's going on!"

"Until Sinclair is King and we have access to the state military," Roger said quickly, "we shouldn't split up. We all agreed on that."

"It's been a disaster," Sinclair said, looking at me. "Every time we leave you two home for safety, we get hurt, or you do, or both."

"So we're staying together," Roger said, gesturing around the room. "The six of us. Or," he glanced at Cora's stomach, "six and a half."

"That was my plan all along," Cora said. "But noooo, I wasn't allowed to go to the sewer, was I?"

Roger rolled his eyes placatingly. "But, Cora, if we start Dominic's coronation, that means…"

He hesitated.

"What?" she urged.

"You can't go to the temple anytime soon," Sinclair finished. "To ask your mother about your baby and your mating."

"Oh," she said, sitting up, thinking. "I see."

I nodded. After the Cult infiltrated my mother's temple, it was shut down. The closest temple where priestesses could truly contact her was hundreds of miles away. Cora could go now, before the coronation, or wait a long time.

I pursed my lips. What mattered more—answering my sister's questions or catching the man who tried to kidnap my son?