Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

#Chapter 343 – Bunker Life

Ella

Sinclair and I wake up late the next morning and frankly I’m grateful that everyone let us sleep in. We had to get up to feed Rafe, of course, but even with that? It’s the most sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.

“Morning,” I murmur, turning over to Sinclair and slinging a leg up over his hip, feeling just… ridiculously relaxed for someone who fought off a pack of kidnappers in her bedroom yesterday.

Sinclair doesn’t say anything, just growls a hungry little greeting and pulls my naked body closer to his, rolling over me a little so that I can feel the delicious weight of him on top of me as he kisses my neck, my shoulder, and then my mouth. “We’re skipping breakfast,” he murmurs, sliding his hand leisurely down the length of my body, “I have different idea for how we can spend

the time

”

“Noooo,” I moan in protest, my stomach audibly growling in support. “I need fooooood!”

Sinclair laughs and pulls away from me then. “Am I not sustenance enough for you?” he asks

pretending to be offended. “Here,” he says, offering his arm, bulging with muscles, “take a bite. It

will keep you going.”

I bare my teeth and lean forward towards it, making my mate laugh, but then I just press a quick kiss to the arm and push him away, reaching for the baby who is starting to fuss in his cradle at

the sound of our voices.

“As delicious as you are,” I call over my shoulder to Sinclair as I lean down to scoop Rafe into my arms, “the baby and I need pancakes.”

“Then pancakes you shall have,” Sinclair murmurs, yawning and crossing to the little metal

bathroom door in the corner of the room. “But I hope that you are aware that these will be bunker

pancakes,” he adds, twisting the nob and pushing his way through, “by which I mean plain toast.”

I laugh, nodding to indicate that that’s fine by me, and then I spend a few sweet minutes alone

with my son, talking softly to him while I feed him his own breakfast, taking my time looking

over, admiring his little face and his thick thatch of black hair, mussed from sleep.

a little, thinking that this will surely be a busy, complicated day. But with sweet starts

can it end badly?

Sinclair

in the conference room at the end of the bunker’s

brought with us, but honestly I’m proud of them. Many worked through the night to develop our reconnaissance,

working, losing sleep, while I was relaxing and…well, doing

– even if my constant instinct is to work, and to push, and to keep going. Ella and Rafe need my attention as well, just as much as

murmurs to me as he rolls up to my side, his voice quiet enough that no one

ask,

for a moment, before placing some paperwork on the table and beginning to sort

still have a bond, even if it’s changed with

a hand on my father’s shoulder, grateful for him. Roger comes over to us and gives us a sharp little nod, which we both return,

movements we all have in common. My dad laughs a little too.

but I shake

shrugs it off, leaning in front of me to look at

up with last

straight, though, when Cora and Ella come through the

off the baby to anyone who wants to

handing out little cups of coffee that

says, his eyes wide as he looks at

and our mates, trying to figure

voice tight, “do you not see the

disturbed that I don’t, I shake

scrubbing his hand down his face swiftly in a mix

this, since you’ve been a little…hypnotized

your life –”

start, but Roger gives me a significant look and I shut my

my chest

and I love her, but you let her get away with things that you wouldn’t let

I protest, but he continues speaking, cutting me off.

–

of getting to know both

at Roger, but he

You