Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Chapter 284 – A Long 2 1/2 Months

Ella

One and a half months later, and I’m gigantic.

Gigantic.

“Five months wolf pregnant,” I mutter, stirring my yogurt with a little silver spoon, “is about thirteen months human pregnant.” Leaning back against my pillows, I raise the spoon to my mouth, but hesitate before taking a bite.

“What?” Sinclair asks, glancing at me from his spot on the bed, where he’s reading some reports on his tablet. “Has it gone sour?”

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“No,” I murmur, stabbing the spoon back into the cup. “I’m just afraid if I eat another bite, this baby is going to get even bigger.”

“Good!” Sinclair declares, grinning at my swollen belly and reaching out a fond hand to rub my baby bump. “Let him get big and strong before he’s born, that way he can come out running and we can play football within a week

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“Absolutely not,” I snap, giving him a little glare and hoping to hell that he’s kidding. “I am not growing you a linebacker, Dominic, so get that right out of your head.”

Sinclair chuckles and puts his tablet aside, moving lower on the bed to press his ear to my. stomach just above where the baby has settled. “What’s that, little Rafe?” he asks, loud enough for me to hear. I twist my lips and shake my head a little, knowing this is all for my benefit anyway. If he wanted to talk to Rafe, he could just do it through his bond. “You’re perfectly comfortable in there and want to go to full term so you can get big and strong?”

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the baby move, then, responding to his father’s voice, pressing some extremity – a hand or a foot – across my skin, right where Sinclair’s face is. Sinclair kisses the spot

aloud, stroking the sides of my stomach, which looks honestly like I’ve swallowed a giant watermelon. “Tell him you’re cramped in there,

feeling, with the desire to stretch. “See?” I say, raising my eyebrow at Sinclair as he looks up at me with a big smile. “He’s sick of it too. Time

pat. “We’ll see what Cora and Hank say this afternoon at

“Really?” I ask, excited.

“It’s

one quarter moon goddess…he’ll come fast,

out his hands to help me to my feet. I accept readily and head

flop onto the bed, continuing his work while I get ready. He’s been so sweet and supportive, even though I’ve been a bit miserable for the past two weeks, but especially this last one. There’s been some trouble, I know, with human insurgents who are unhappy with how well the peace talks are going. They think that humans are getting the short end of the stick and are threatening violence unless Sinclair and his teams make more concessions. I know it’s stressing him, but he still makes a great deal of time for me in his day. I’m so grateful for him,

enjoying being pregnant – I have loved every minute of feeling my little boy grow stronger inside of me, every little twist and kick, and especially feeling the little messages he sends down our bond to me. He’s gotten so communicative lately, really responding to us like a little baby might telling us how he feels

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been so wonderful. It’s just…I am so uncomfortable now. I’ve always been a petite woman, and even though Rafe was little at the start, it’s very clear that he’s Sinclair’s baby now. He is heavy, and he presses on my back, and my ankles are swollen, and I can’t find a comfortable spot when

that I’m a bit torn. As much as I love being pregnant, and I’m so happy and grateful for it, it in many ways feels like the end of a wonderful vacation where you start to think about how nice it will be to go back home. I sigh and lean down to pick out a pair of sneakers but stop, suddenly, when

of our bedroom.

door, Sinclair is looking towards the

get those?” I ask with a big smile. “I need you to put them on

more bending.”

go to sit on the bed. “Sure thing, Cinderella,” he smirks, kneeling down on one knee and lifting one of my feet up like the

around the crowded waiting room, opening my mouth to protest that we shouldn’t be seen before all of these women who have been so patient, but Sinclair presses a hand to my back, ushering me forward. “I paid for this place, after all,” he murmurs, giving me a smile. “You can accept just

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call for me at all times throughout the pregnancy. And, after Rafe is born, they’ll be our personal physicians for our whole family. In exchange, though, they both requested that he set them up in private practice so that they can see refugee clients for free when we didn’t need them. Judging by the swell of people in the lobby, they seem to be taking

is interrupted by the sound of my sister calling a greeting to

to wrap me in a hug. “Ella!” she says, pulling back