#Chapter 438 – Coronation Ella

Sinclair and I wake up only a few short hours later, our clothing spread out all over the bed and floor all around us, because today is the big day.

I groan a little when I feel Sinclair stir.

“No,” I murmur, wrapping my arm around him and pulling him back down. Or, I should say that he lets me pull him back down. Because there’s no way I’m strong enough to physically make my big scary Alpha do anything he doesn’t want to do.

But he is sweet, and obliges me.

“I know,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his gigantic hand. “I’m sorry, trouble. But we’ve got to get up and look pretty for our big day.”

“Let’s just go ugly,” I sigh. “Really… lower expectations for the rest of your reign. You can rule in sweatpants and t- shirts. They’ll call you the Comfortable King.”

He laughs, and I can feel him shake his head. “Come on, Ella,” he cajoles. ” Don’t you want to look pretty to match the crown?”

I crack an eye open, tempted. Because honestly, I forgot about the crown. I’ve been very much looking forward to the crown.

down at me. There she is,” he says, smiling at me. ” My little magpie. Come

today, which

him, sensing that he wants it, and Sinclair kisses me long and lingering. As he does

my own feelings much the same, as well as a great deal of hope and pleasure to see him

in wonder. And I smile back. “You’re going to be a wonderful King,

taking a deep breath, simply accepting my faith in him. And I let him hold me tight and warm, pleased to the end of me to see this day finally

only let go of each other when Rafe gives a little squeak, wondering why we’ve let him lay alone in

I

I say happily, crawling away from my mate and getting out of bed to

bed and coming over to the two of us, kissing Rafe on the head. “He’ll be a Prince, after all, once the day is

to the baby, laughing a little. “Little Prince Rafe! Cutest little heir to the throne that there

Sinclair murmurs, dropping a kiss to my head too and then moving towards the bathroom as I take Rafe to his changing table to get him ready for

as predicted,

of formality as Sinclair leads me into a room that is a strange mix of auditorium and conference chamber, with the kind of stadium seating all around that looks

a narrow empty space at the center. Sinclair seats himself at the center

matching cape and Sinclair in a sleek black jacket and pants with a blue sash over the front as well as a great number of medals. I don’t know what any of the medals mean, but he does look

all that matters

like his father no medals, though – and he grins up at me, giving a little squeal. I smile at him, laughing. “Are you excited for the big day?” I whisper, giving him a little pulse of curiosity down

to be able to communicate so effectively with my son even though he is so young. And he laughs as he looks up at me,

hug, pressing a couple of kisses to his soft hair, before I

asks, and I beam up at him, giving a

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