Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

#Chapter 418 – The Threat of War

Ella

Cora and Roger stay in the meeting room for a little breakfast as Henry escorts Sarah and Jessica from the room, wheeling beside them as they discuss some preliminary plans for Jessica’s schooling and Sarah’s own desires and ideas about her future life. I smile as Sinclair and I walk slowly behind them, Rafe curled protected in the curve of his father’s arm. I wave to my new friends as they and Henry take a left when Sinclair and I have to go right, towards our rooms.

And then, as we make the turn and are finally on our own, I huff a little sigh. Sinclair, as always, notices.

“What’s wrong, little queen?” he murmurs, moving closer to me as we walk. “I thought you’d be happy with the result of that. You did a good thing for her and, I imagine, will keep doing so. Plus, we got some very useful information about Xander.”

“Was it anything we didn’t already know?” I ask, looking up at him with a frown.

“A few things,” he murmurs, giving a shrug. “But more importantly, she’s a witness we will be able to charge Xander, formally, with…well, I guess we’d need a lawyer to spell out specifically which crimes he committed in switching sperm at a sperm bank and then attempting to kidnap the resulting child.”

Rafe gives a little burble right at that moment, making me laugh and smile over at him – my sweet baby, almost as if he knew he was being talked about.

“Well, that’s something,” I murmur, considering it. “Will we charge him, though?”

“I’m not sure,” Sinclair says. “Not that I want to let him off the h ook for everything he’s done – we just…need to figure out the best way to go about it, especially as he’s now with the Atalaxians.”

We’ve reached the door to our room now and Sinclair twists the kn ob, pushing the door open and allowing me to enter first. I head immediately to our gigantic walk-in closet to get changed into more comfortable clothing, but my mind whirs as I go.

“Go on, little mate,” Sinclair murmurs as he follows me into the closet, sitting down on a chaise lounge that I had placed in here just for this reason. I anticipate many little chats in here as either or both of us are getting ready. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I say, tugging off my dress and sighing as I put it back on its hanger. “It’s…it’s the Atalaxians I’m worried

carefully. I give him a little smile and a pulse of gratitude down the bond. It

I’m not sure we should be…messing with them. I mean – you heard everything that Sarah said today about what life in Xander’s household was like – it was an absolute nightmare for her, and for Jessica, and her mother. Just years of abuse, justified because they were humans and

of sorrow. “The idea that Xander would go to the Atalaxians, hat in hand, and they would see him and be

kind welcome here!”” I shake my head, pursing my lips. “It makes me really uncomfortable, Dominic. I…I don’t want anything to do with people like

head and understanding, but also turning a hand upwards towards me in supplication. ” Part of ruling is dealing with people whom you intensely dislike. Atalaxia is a powerful nation no matter how much we disagree with their policies, we can’t just…ignore them, or give them

we?” I ask, understanding him but unable to resist pushing back a little bit. I come close to my mate then, reaching out and running my fingers through his dark hair as I look down into his face, and then down at my baby. “Everything I’ve heard about them, Dominic, suggests that

have no real proof,

conversation with one woman in a refugee camp, and we have testimony against

did,” Sinclair murmurs, looking seriously up at me. “What would you have us do as

worry and my fear. “I’m really not – not trying to talk you into anything, Dominic, or persuade you one way or another. I just…I know that to not oppose tyranny is in some ways to accept it, support it. And

so far as to want to go to war over it?” he asks, quiet but genuine. I go pale at

I want is to build my life, and

expense of others? Would I allow innocents

his tongue in sympathy, raising a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my skin. “I’m sorry, love,” he sighs. “That wasn’t a fair question – you

reality though, isn’t it?

he says, his voice

ask, my stomach

race to second-class citizenship. They are very

eyes and take a deep breath through my nose, anxiety