Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

#Chapter 473-Alpha Academy

Ella

The door opens then, Roger and Sinclair coming through.

“No!” Cora calls, pulling the pillow out from behind her back and flinging it at Roger. “Not you, who did this to me! The source of my misery!”

Roger just grins as he snatches the pillow out of the air. “And how is my gorgeous mate, mother of my child and heir?” he murmurs, quickly crossing to her and wrapping her in his arms.

“Villain,” she growls, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him closer, pretending to be mad but unable to hide her smile. “You’re going to pay for this!”

Roger just snarls and pulls Cora closer, covering her face and head with kisses that make her shriek and swat at him, laughing.

I grin as Sinclair comes over to me, leaning over to look down at me and Rafe. Rafe squeals happily when he sees his papa, reaching his arms out and asking to be picked up. Sinclair beams as he lifts his baby and swings him into the air, which makes Rafe laugh wildly.

I grin, happiness racing through me as I watch them, and then as I look over at Cora and Roger, who are smiling happily now with him tucked close to her on the bed, asking how she’s feeling. Cora laughs as she lists her bodily complains, and Roger listens to every one of them, nodding and murmuring his consolations.

“So,” I say, sitting up and curling my legs beneath me, beaming at my mate with his little baby – the tiny mirror image of him – in his arms. “Any news from the war front?”

“Some good things,” Sinclair says, sitting down on the bed facing Cora and Roger so that we can all talk – if Roger and Cora ever remember that we’re here- and putting an arm around my shoulders to tug me close. “We’re making good progress with some of our more ambitious plans.”

“Like what?” Cora asks as Sinclair extends a leg across the bed and places Rafe down so he can crawl. Without a word, and perhaps without even realizing that he’s doing it, Roger extends a leg along the other side of the bed, ensuring that Rafe can’t fall off in either direction. I grin, looking between the Sinclair brothers, so pleased to see them become such dads.

“We officially got the vote to fund and start the Alpha Academy,” Roger says, grinning at Cora.

“Oh?” she says, her eyebrows going up as she looks around. “Wow that…incredible…”

Sinclair grins at Cora’s false enthusiasm. “What?” he says, leaning forward to her. “You don’t like the idea?”

just be that I’m about to become a mom to a little boy,” she says, her hand again stroking over her stomach as she speaks her mind. “But yeah – it gives me a little bit of anxiety to think of an academy that takes young men and trains them

as young as eighteen,” Roger says, his voice careful to let her know that he considers her point even as

out, ” wolves reach their majority at

who just seems to be growing so fast. Less than fifteen years and he’ll be grown in wolf culture. My stomach turns

at her belly with a shrug. “I just… I hate the idea of Rafe and the baby growing up in a world where they’re trained to

choice,” Sinclair says quietly. “No one would make

these big tough Alphas swaggering

know,” Roger says, tipping his head so

to sacrifice themselves, Cora,” Sinclair says

displeased. “What about girls?” I ask

asks,

Roger. “Can girls go to the Academy

tells me everything

protest, throwing my hands up in the

to look at me with eyes full of doubt. “You’re telling me that if you had a beautiful little girl with rose-gold hair and a sweet little angel face, you’d want to ship her away to a

I know that if I had a

Rafe and consider – why should it be any different?

different bodily strengths, Ella,” Sinclair says, his voice

crap,” I say, rolling my eyes and turning to him. “I’ve seen my wolf-she’s bigger and more

doubting

you’re saying girls can’t go to Alpha Academy because our wolves are

accept male cadets. At least for now. You’re fighting hundreds of years of male-only wolf military tradition, and while you may be right that we need to ask questions about those traditions, wartime is

scowl at him, narrowing my eyes, but I

get up. “As pleasant as this incredibly tense dead-end conversation is, I want to go home and lay in

I say, my face falling as I turn to look at her. “I’m sorry – you’re right, I shouldn’t pick a fight. Stay!

to her feet. “It’s not your fault, Ells – I’m