Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

#Chapter 377 – Rebuild Ella

“Hey, handsome,” I say again, in the real world this time. A little smirk pulls on my lips as Sinclair’s eyes flutter open. We’re laying pressed quite close together in the little hospital bed, so I can see every twitch of his eyelash as he begins to focus on me.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at me while he takes a couple of deep breaths. And then, quite slowly, he lifts a hand close to my face, sliding the knuckle of his index finger slowly down the length of my cheek. “Hey, trouble,” he murmurs, his voice scratchy after so many days of disuse.

I burst into a happy grin, so thrilled to see him awake and aware that I can barely contain myself. But I force myself to stay still, to not grab him, to…. let him get used to consciousness again in his battered body..

“Rafe?” he asks, his eyes worried as his memories of his last conscious moments come back to him.

“He’s fine,” I say softly, gesturing with my chin behind my mate, hoping that he understands that the baby is here in the room with us, asleep. “He missed you,” I whisper. “He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have his dad around to hold him.” I wrinkle my nose and playfully glare at my mate. “He likes you better.”

A little laugh shudders from Sinclair’s mouth. “Does not,” he murmurs, staring at me steadily, as if he can’t get enough of the sight of my face. “You feed him, and sing to him. When you leave the room, he looks for you.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised and pleased. I hadn’t known this before.

“Well, he’s not alone,” Sinclair smirks, shifting forward to press his forehead against mine, a gesture that makes me grin with pleasure, joy pulsing through me at a ridiculous rate to have him back. “You’re the center of the world, Ella. We all turn to you.”

“Good,” I sigh, content. “I like all my boys obsessed with me. Makes it easier to boss you around.”

Sinclair chuckles a little and then pulls back a bit, frowning. I sigh again, but in resignation this time because I know our little stolen moment of peace is over that he needs to know about the world and what’s happened since he’s been gone from it.

“The priestess?” he asks.

“Roger killed her the moment after you knocked her

“And Rafe is…”

fine,” I say, unable to keep the little smile from my mouth. ” Though I want to hear more about

skills,” he says with a smug shrug

he continues. “Cora?

with the pleased memory of using the gift on Cora, patching her up, and then the slightly worse memory of Henry arriving at the clinic, terribly battered needing quite a bite of

a long story,” I say with a sigh, but they’re both fine now. And so are you, by the way,” I add, giving him a little push on the shoulder, wondering why his own health is the last

he murmurs, rolling his shoulders a little experimentally and glancing down at himself, or at least as much as he can see tucked into the tiny bed with me. I’m not in pain

were asleep for three

raising his eyebrows in surprise. “But

watching him carefully. “I patched you up almost immediately when we got to you, and then Hank and Roger helped me get you inside – you’re very heavy

why was I asleep?” my mate asks me, smiling

can’t make new blood, or restore lost energy.” I pause here, letting the worry of the past three days creep my face a little. “It was really bad, Dominic. If I

me close so that my body is as flush against his as it can be, my head tucked neatly under his chin. “You saved me, Ella,” he

hold him tight. “It was so…so scary. We can’t keep doing this – living like this. We have Rafe now – and the rest of our

feel him nodding, agreeing with me. “I’m so sorry, Ella. Never again. You’re

promise?” I sigh, hoping to hell that he means it – because that’s. all I want in the world. My

says. “I swear it,

jaw shut against the hope that blooms in me. Because I

also know that this isn’t finished. That there are still

I lift my head a little, peering over Sinclair’s arm. I smile when I

I say, working

Sinclair. “Is he

I lean forward and smile at my while Sinclair

little ruefully at him, which

chart off of the end of the bed, flipping through it. “Roger has apologized, though