Accidental Surrogate for Alpha-Chapter 432
Posted on February 17, 2025 · 1 mins read
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The Arrival of Old Friends

Ella Cora arrives early on the day the festivities begin—if they can be called that. While the atmosphere is supposed to be festive, simmering beneath it is considerable political tension that my mate hopes will resolve favorably.

I throw my arms around my sister the moment I open the bedroom door. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cry, the words tumbling out in a rush.

"Whoa!" Cora says, catching me and laughing, hugging me back. "It's fine, Ella—honestly, where else would I be on a day like this?"

"I don't know, sleeping?" I say, wide-eyed. "It's 4 AM!"

"True," she says, shrugging and grinning. She touches her belly. "Not like I wasn't up anyway, though."

"What?" I gasp, pulling her into the room. Cora is about two months pregnant. That's not far along in a human pregnancy, but for a wolf pregnancy? She's probably just entering her second trimester. Is this her second trimester? With a hybrid baby…?

She laughs, watching me do the mental math as I stare at her barely-swollen belly. "So cute," she says, shrugging. "The morning sickness is hitting hard. I got away with it in the first trimester, but," she sighs, "it mostly hits at night. So, I was already up."

"Poor sister," I murmur, meaning every word. I reach for her cheek, but she laughs and pushes my hand away, making me laugh too. Cora isn't one for coddling.

"What can I get you?" I ask, smiling. "I've heard ginger tea helps."

"Distraction," she says, nodding firmly. "That'll be best."

"Well, distraction I've got," I say, grabbing her hand and leading her to my gigantic closet. She gasps upon entering; even at 4 AM, it's chaos—clothes, supplies everywhere, even a cart with coffee, tea, and breakfast snacks.

"Oh, hey, Cora," Sinclair says, turning and grinning at her from the mirror where he's tying his tie for the fourth time. He wants it absolutely perfect. "Thanks for coming early. We've got a long day. Did Roger come too?"

"No," she sighs, sitting in the poufy armchair next to Rafe's playpen, smiling and patting his head. "He's lazy and wanted more sleep. He says he'll be here at the more reasonable hour of seven."

"That's too late," Sinclair murmurs, shaking his head and reaching for his phone. "I need him here by six…"

"Good luck," Cora murmurs, accepting the tea I hand her.

"It'll be fine," I sigh. "Boys are lucky—they have so much less to do on mornings like this. Just throw on a suit! Run a hand through their hair! Gorgeous, ready to go!"

"Oh, come on, Ella," Cora laughs, sipping her tea, grinning at the ginger. "Like it's so hard for you to get gorgeous."

"She has a point!" Sinclair calls out, tossing his phone onto a side table after texting Roger and returning to his tie.

"Oh, you both flatter," I murmur, giving them a pleased glare and flapping my hands. "But we've got appointments, Cora—hair, nails, the works. It's going to be a lot."

"I'm kind of looking forward to it," she says, smiling. "I haven't been pampered like this in a long time. Plus, the outfits you've picked out for me…" she whistles, impressed. "They're stunning."

"Well, you're the bride," I say, grinning. "You're supposed to steal the show."

"On Sunday," she says, rolling her eyes, "I'm supposed to steal the show. But tonight? And the coronation tomorrow? That's supposed to be all you, Ella."

"Or him!" I say, pointing to Sinclair, my soon-to-be-crowned King.

"All eyes will be on you, my Queen," Sinclair says, pulling me close and kissing my cheek. His tie is perfect. "Or," he continues, turning to Rafe, "on Rafe."

"He is very cute," I say, looking at the baby who burbles in his playpen.

Cora laughs. "Guys, he's very cute, but…you're looking at him with parents' eyes. I'm sure people will be more focused on the two of you."

"Not when they see his outfits," I say, smiling, dashing to Rafe's dresser. Before I can pull anything out, another knock comes at the door.

"Your first appointment," Sinclair murmurs, answering the door. "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be!" I sigh, winking at Cora. "Let's get started."

"Gabriel!" I laugh, hugging the King of Vanara as he enters. He laughs, hugging me back warmly.

"Ella," he murmurs, pleased. "It's such a joy to see you. We were all so worried when you left. It's a joy to see you again, healthy and happy."

"And the baby!" I say, pulling away and taking Rafe from Cora so my son can meet the King. Cora smiles, handing him over; Roger, at her side, looks eagerly at the Vanaran delegation, full of familiar faces. Henry declined to attend, citing long hours and boredom, though he'll be at dinner.

"Oh my goodness," Gabriel says, cradling Rafe, staring at him with joy. He laughs, looking at Sinclair. "Well," he says, hugging Sinclair, "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 the hug.

"Lies," I sigh, taking Rafe and snuggling him. "He's all Dominic, and it's taking its toll on my poor arms," I murmur, hefting Rafe. He's a big baby for his nearly four months; he already wears six-month, sometimes eight-month clothes. But he's adorable, so I forgive him.

Rafe is tired, but he's being good. I want him by my side; not everyone here is our friend, and I can't bear leaving him alone, even with the nannies, several of whom I've become close to—I started as a nanny, after all.

Gabriel and Sinclair greet each other, giving me a chance to greet old friends: James, Isabel, and Sadie, who were separated for a month while James served as our ambassador in Vanara. We've made incredible progress on the camps, but still have much to do.

I grin at Thomas, the King's boyfriend, and wave; he bows. I make a mental note to get to know him better this trip.

Our time with the Vanarans flies by; a line of people awaits, giving us only about three minutes with each. It breaks my heart to only spend moments with these people. I feel overwhelmed as they depart.

I'm still waving, Rafe at my side, when Cora steps beside me, tense.

"What is it?" I ask, my smile fading. She looks amazing in a lavender gown; I'm in a similar white one. But Cora is worried. She raises her chin toward the next delegation. I turn, surprised to see them dressed in serious black clothing, standing in four lines of five, more like a military formation than ambassadors. And they're all men.

"Are you ready for this?" Cora asks quietly. I shift Rafe and take her hand. "I guess we have to be." Cora and I take a deep breath, moving forward to greet the Atalaxians.