Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 269 – The Waiting Game

3rd Person

The hours pass slowly for Dominic Sinclair as he sits at his mate’s side in the post–surgical suite, willing her to live.

Her hand is held tight within his and his eyes are trained on her face, watching her eyelashes flutter every minute or two. Her chest raises and lowers slowly, shallow breaths coming less frequently than they should. She had survived the night. But just barely.

Sinclair wipes a hand down his face, willing himself to stay awake. The surgery took hours and he had stood stoically at her side for every moment of it. It had been agony, watching them cut her to ribbons, listening to them mumble words he couldn’t understand, trying to fix her like some kind of broken car

As if she wasn’t the most important thing on earth. As if she wasn’t the daughter of the Goddess, the future Queen, the mother of his child and – most important of all –

His fucking mate.

–

—

It had taken everything in him to stand there and not wrench the tools from the doctor’s hand, to do something, anything, to fix her out of the sheer will of his desire for her to live.

But in the end, after hours of work, the doctor had just nodded to Sinclair, wiping a bloody hand across his forehead. “We’ve done everything we can,” he had murmured, looking down at Ella. “It’s in her hands now.”

Then, they’d wheeled her into this room, hooked her up to what looked like a thousand ridiculous machines, and just left. Left Sinclair here, holding her hand, waiting to see if she lived or died. But damnit, he wasn’t going to let her die. No fucking way.

Nurses come and go periodically, of course, checking on her, checking on him, letting him know that there have been no turns for the worse, asking if he wanted any food, any water, anything at all. He’d ignored them all, focused only on her. His Luna. The light of his world.

A few hours later, a knock comes at the door. Sinclar glances towards it, expecting another nurse, and blinks and surprise when he sees Cora and Roger standing there.

“Dominic,” Roger, his face full of sorrow, his eyes not going to Ella and instead focusing on Sinclair. Roger opens his mouth to say something else, but Cora interrupts.

“Is she alright?” Cora breathes, hurrying to her sister’s side, glancing between Ella and her mate.

the surgery…but the doctor says it could go either way. And that

covers his face with his hand,

Cora asks, desperate.

bond, but he

but he doesn’t know

sister’s forehead, brushing some hair behind her ear. “Come on, kid,” she murmurs. “You have to

takes the hand from his face when he feels Roger grip

moment passes before Roger looks up at the television, which has been playing lightly in the

television

dropping it, not understanding. “They said something about… unconscious patients. The sound

the television. “Have you seen

the television. The news is on, but he glares at his brother.” No, Roger, I’m not sitting here watching the news while Ella slips away from me. I’m concentrating

”

throws back, frustrated. “I wouldn’t draw your attention away if it

To his surprise, it’s an image of Cora. Sinclair blinks, paying more attention now to the words

her, turning the screen white as her brilliance overloads the capacity of whatever camera was trained on her. It’s an unrefined

Cora stands panting, looking out onto the square. Sinclair squints, leaning closer, and he can see – yes, himself, in the corner of the screen, with Ella

in his chair.

into his pockets, his eyes

briefly shakes his head, slumping back in his chair raising one hand to his forehead, his other still wrapped around Ella’s in the bed. It doesn’t really matter to him what Cora did, not really. Because

to him, his lips pulling back in a snarl. Roger puts up a hand, calling silently for peace. “I know that you’re focusing on Ella, brother, but you’re our King now. Or if you’re not, you will be soon. And you need to know what the hell is going on

not taking his eyes from

Cora gave the Goddess’s gift.

he thinks back… he had been distracted, of course, frantic at the feeling