Chapter 439: Coronation

Ella

Sinclair and I woke up a few hours later, our clothes strewn across the bed and floor. Today was the big day.

I groaned as Sinclair stirred.

"No," I murmured, pulling him back down. Or rather, he let me pull him back down. I'm not strong enough to force my large, intimidating Alpha to do anything he doesn't want to do.

But he was sweet and obliged me.

"I know," he murmured, cupping my face in his large hand. "Sorry, Trouble. But we need to get up and look presentable for our big day."

"Let's just go ugly," I sighed. "Lower expectations for your reign. You can rule in sweatpants and t-shirts. They'll call you the Comfortable King."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Come on, Ella," he cajoled. "Don't you want to look beautiful to match the crown?"

I cracked open an eye, tempted. I had, in fact, forgotten about the crown. And I was very much looking forward to it.

He laughed again, looking down at me. "There she is," he said, smiling. "My little magpie. Come on, gorgeous."

"Fine," I sighed, sitting up. "But I'm having two cups of coffee, which means he—" I pointed to the baby—"will be jittery all day."

"A compromise we can accept for one day," Sinclair said, pulling me close. I tilted my face up, and he kissed me long and lingeringly. Through the bond, I felt his pride, happiness, and contentment.

I returned those feelings, adding my own hope and pleasure at seeing him lead the nation he'd fought for so long.

When he broke the kiss, he beamed down at me.

"Thank you," he murmured, shaking his head in wonder.

I smiled. "You're going to be a wonderful king, Dominic."

He hugged me tightly, breathing deeply, accepting my faith in him. I let him hold me, filled with joy at the day's beginning.

We only separated when Rafe squeaked, wondering why he'd been left alone in his crib. We clearly knew he was awake.

Sinclair and I laughed.

"He wants in on the love," I said happily, getting out of bed to pick up my baby.

"It's a big day for him, too," Sinclair said, joining us and kissing Rafe's head. "He'll be a prince once the day is done."

"Hear that!?" I said to the baby, laughing. "Little Prince Rafe! The cutest little heir to the throne!"

"True," Sinclair murmured, kissing my head before heading to the bathroom as I took Rafe to his changing table.

The day, as predicted, was incredibly long. It began with formality as Sinclair led me into a room that was a strange mix of auditorium and conference chamber, with stadium seating reminiscent of a college lecture hall. Instead of a stage, seating occupied three sides, with an elaborate table on the fourth and a narrow empty space in the center. Sinclair sat at the center of the table, with me to his right and his father to his left. I grinned when I saw Cora and Roger enter, dressed in the traditional formal attire of Moon Valley nobility.

Sinclair and I were similarly dressed: me in a burgundy velvet gown with a matching cape, and Sinclair in a sleek black jacket and pants with a blue sash and numerous medals. I didn't know what the medals signified, but he looked dashing.

Which, honestly, was all that mattered.

I grinned down at little Rafe, dressed like his father (minus the medals), who grinned back, squealing. "Are you excited for the big day?" I whispered, sending him a pulse of curiosity through our bond.

He sent a happy pulse back. It thrilled me to communicate so effectively with my young son. He laughed, seemingly happy as well.

I hugged him, kissing his soft hair, before Sinclair's hand rested on my back.

"Ready?" he asked. I nodded.

What followed took hours and considerable patience. As each governor affirmed Sinclair as their choice for king, I reminded myself this was the important part. The elaborate coronation would follow, but this—the governors' and packs' consent to be ruled—was paramount.

I glanced at the small cohort of Atalaxians at the back, knowing this wasn't their process; they ruled by force.

Even though I was bored, I recognized the importance of the people having a say in their ruler, even a king, their recognition that he was the best leader.

As each governor and pack leader pledged fealty, Sinclair nodded, and I followed suit, making eye contact to show that they were seen and heard, and that we would do our best.

By the time the final delegates arrived, I shifted in my chair. It had been a long time. I sighed, looking jealously at Rafe napping in his bassinet.

It must be nice to be a baby prince, sleeping through the biggest day of your life.

Finally, it was done. Sinclair helped me to my feet, and as the people cheered, he raised our joined hands in victory. Our people had unanimously elected to support Sinclair's claim. Some voiced doubts—their right—but overall, the support was enthusiastic. I smiled, pleased they saw what I saw in my mate: a warm, dedicated, powerful man who would be good for the nation.

Rafe sent an anxious pulse, letting me know he was awake and scared by the noise. I took him from Sinclair, and the crowd cheered again at seeing Rafe in my arms.

Sinclair put an arm around me, smiling at us both. "Ready for what's next?" he asked eagerly.

"Yup," I said, grinning. "Time for the crowns!"