Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate Story

Chapter 418

#Chapter 418 – The Threat of War

Ella

Cora and Roger stay in the meeting room for a little breakfast as Henry escorts Sarah and Jessica from the room, wheeling beside them as they discuss some preliminary plans for Jessica’s schooling and Sarah’s own desires and ideas about her future life. I smile as Sinclair and I walk slowly behind them, Rafe curled protected in the curve of his father’s arm. I wave to my new friends as they and Henry take a left when Sinclair and I have to go right, towards our rooms.

And then, as we make the turn and are finally on our own, I huff a little sigh. Sinclair, as always, notices.

“What’s wrong, little queen?” he murmurs, moving closer to me as we walk. “I thought you’d be happy with the result of that. You did a good thing for her and, I imagine, will keep doing so. Plus, we got some very useful information about Xander.”

“Was it anything we didn’t already know?” I ask, looking up at him with a frown.

“A few things,” he murmurs, giving a shrug. “But more importantly, she’s a witness we will be able to charge Xander, formally, with…well, I guess we’d need a lawyer to spell out specifically which crimes he committed in switching sperm at a sperm bank and then attempting to kidnap the resulting child.”

Rafe gives a little burble right at that moment, making me laugh and smile over at him – my sweet baby, almost as if he knew he was being talked about.

“Well, that’s something,” I murmur, considering it. “Will we charge him, though?”

“I’m not sure,” Sinclair says. “Not that I want to let him off the h ook for everything he’s done – we just… need to figure out the best way to go about it, especially as he’s now with the Atalaxians.”

We’ve reached the door to our room now and Sinclair twists the kn ob, pushing the door open and allowing me to enter first. I head immediately to our gigantic walk-in closet to get changed into more comfortable clothing, but my mind whirs as I go.

“Go on, little mate,” Sinclair murmurs as he follows me into the closet, sitting down on a chaise lounge that I had placed in here just for this reason. I anticipate many little chats in here as either or both of us are getting ready. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Well,” I say, tugging off my dress and sighing as I put it back on its hanger. “It’s…it’s the Atalaxians I’m worried about,” I say, giving him a sorry little grimace.

“What do you mean?” he asks, settling back on the chaise and listening carefully. I give him a little smile and a pulse of gratitude down the bond. It means so much to me that he takes me seriously.

“I mean,” I say, grabbing for a pair of comfortable folded pants, “that I’m not sure we should be… messing with them. I mean – you heard everything that Sarah said today about what life in Xander’s household was like – it was an absolute nightmare for her, and for Jessica, and her mother. Just years of abuse, justified because they were humans and women.”

I sigh as I pull a t-shirt over my head and look at my mate, my eyes full of sorrow. “The idea that Xander would go to the Atalaxians, hat in hand, and they would see him and be like ‘sure!

Come on in! Your kind welcome here!”” I shake my head, pursing my lips. “It makes me really uncomfortable, Dominic. I…I don’t want anything to do with people like that.”

He sighs, nodding his head and understanding, but also turning a hand upwards towards me in supplication. ” Part of ruling is dealing with people whom you intensely dislike. Atalaxia is a powerful nation no matter how much we disagree with their policies, we can’t just…ignore them, or give them the cold shoulder.”

“But shouldn’t we?” I ask, understanding him but unable to resist pushing back a little bit. I come close to my mate then, reaching out and running my fingers through his dark hair as I look down into his face, and then down at my baby. “Everything I’ve heard about them, Dominic, suggests that they’re participating in…atrocities, serious crimes against humanity.”

“Crimes of which we have no real proof, my love – ”

“But how hard would that proof be to find?” I murmur. “I mean, I had one conversation with one woman in a refugee camp, and we have testimony against Xander now. If abuse is as widespread in Atalaxia as I’m being told it is, would we even really have to scratch the surface to find proof of it?”

“And if we did,” Sinclair murmurs, looking seriously up at me. “What would you have us do as a result?”

“I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head as I look down at him, sighing with my worry and my fear. “I’m really not – not trying to talk you into anything, Dominic, or persuade you one way or another. I just…I know that to not oppose tyranny is in some ways to accept it, support it. And if we have the power…”

“Would you go so far as to want to go to war over it?” he asks, quiet but genuine. I go pale at the idea, because I am so… so sick of war.

All I want is to build my life, and raise my child, and live peacefully with my mate.

But would I buy that piece at the expense of others? Would I allow innocents to suffer so that I can sleep peacefully in bed?

I bite my lip and Sinclair clicks his tongue in sympathy, raising a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my skin. “I’m sorry, love,” he sighs. “That wasn’t a fair question – you have all good points, and I gave you the one ultimatum that would stop you.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head and covering his hand with mine. “It’s…it’s the reality though, isn’t it? If I’m saying to stand up to the Atalaxians… the result could be war.”

“It could be war either way,” he says, his voice soft and worried.

“Really?” I ask, my stomach dropping.

Slowly, he nods. “They’re not happy, at all, with the fact that the secrecy pact was broken, and that my response to it isn’t immediate denigration of the human race to second-class citizenship. They are very hostile now, at the moment. I will avoid war at all costs but…they’re strong, Ella. They could push for it, knowing they have the advantage.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose, anxiety racing through me at the idea.

War. War again.

Just when I’m finally starting to find peace…

“We’re not there yet,” Sinclair says, dropping his hand to drift down my side and settle on my waist, pulling me closer. “Don’t worry about it now, Ella. Don’t borrow trouble before it comes.”

“Can’t seem to help it,” I murmur, opening my eyes and looking down at my mate. “Like calls to like, after all.”

He laughs then, the sound so deep and warm that it makes me smile. Then he tugs me closer, pulling me into his lap. “Let me worry about that,” he says softly. “You just go patch up the people who were hurt by our last war it’s what I know you want to be doing anyway.”

“Hey,” I say, narrowing my eyes playfully at him and kissing him lightly. “Don’t you start thinking of me as some kind of magical street sweeper – I’m not just around to clean up after all this nation’s wars,

you know! I am not the panacea you seek!”

“Oh I know,” he murmurs, teasing me with his lips on mine as he lets his hand drift lower to settle on my bottom. “If you’re busy cleaning up after all the wars, you’ll be far to busy for me to get you pregnant with all of the heirs I’m planning to produce-

I burst into laughter at this, pulling away from him and pretending to be offended even though, really, we’re both well aware that that’s precisely what I want too. “Hey, Mr. King Sinclair,” I growl, wrinkling my nose at him. “I’m no royal baby factory either.” ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, pretending to be frustrated. “Then what are you even good for, Ella!?”

I laugh, a little wicked, and pull his face close. “You know exactly what I’m good for, Dominic.” And then I kiss him soundly, and let myself get a little lost in it.

And then we put the baby down for his nap, and I am…much later reporting for duty at the refugee camp than I thought I’d be.