Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 442 – A Prince

Ella

I can’t help it, not at all. I burst immediately into tears. The crowd, when they realize what’s going on and when I think they see my over- emotional reaction to it – begin to again shout their approval. Sinclair laughs when he sees me crying, shaking his head at me as he returns to my side with the little crown in his hands.

“Well, if you didn’t want me to cry!” I say, stamping my foot lightly, “you should have told me!”

“Nah,” Sinclair says, smiling at me, his voice soft but somehow still audible over the cheers of the crowd. “This is way better. It was worth it to see your face.”

“Okay well,” I say in a rush, wiping hastily at my cheeks before raising Rafe a little so that he’s sitting straight up in my arms, looking up at his father with a happy smile. “Get on with it! I want to see how he looks!”

Sinclair laughs at me, shaking his head, and the crowd quiets, eager to hear what their King will say.

“Rafe Sinclair,” my mate says, looking seriously at his son. But Rafe frowns and waves his hands at him, confused by the seriousness of his voice, which makes Sinclair instantly laugh and have to start over.

The crowd laughs along with us, pleased, I think, to see their serious King look so human, to see how much he loves his son.

“Rafe Sinclair,” my mate tries again, his voice lighter this time, and Rafe lets out a little squeal of joy that threatens to make me cry again. Sinclair grins, leaning over a little. “I crown you as my Prince and my heir, to ascend to this throne when it is your time to rule. I promise to raise you to understand this responsibility, to grow to be a good man, and to deserve it.”

And then, when I think my heart will burst with love, Sinclair gently places the little crown on Rafe’s tiny head.

I watch eagerly to see what Rafe will do and then I burst into laugher when he reaches his pudgy hands up touching it experimentally, trying to get a grip on it so he can pull it off.

But I move his little hand away and the crowd again bursts into cheers, charmed – I know – by their little Prince, who deserves every moment of their adoration.

I step close to Sinclair, turning my head up to him, and he bends a little and kisses me, warm and real and true. I lose myself to the kiss, loving him so much I can hardly bear it, and I have no idea, really, if the crowd cheers to see us because I’m lost in him.

The next thing I know Sinclair has his arm wrapped around my shoulders, and he’s leading me back down the aisle, and we’re waving to our people.

Before I know it, we have left all the people behind, and we’re back in the private little room at the front of the great hall, and Henry and Cora and Roger come in smiling and laughing behind us.

But I have no eyes for them – instead, I can only look up at my mate, my Alpha, my King, my love for him shining and beaming down our bond.

“I love you, little Queen,” he murmurs, an arm around my waist pulling me close, Rafe snuggled between us. Sinclair uses his other hand to tilt my chin up towards him. ” You look just as good in that crown as I thought you would.”

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“Wait till you see me later,” I murmur, feeling a mischievous.

“Later?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“I believe,” I say quietly, wanting to keep it between us, “that I promised to show you what I look like in nothing but this crown.”

A growl reverberates in his chest, and my King lowers his head, and he kisses me. And I stand on my toes and kiss him right back.

The party that night is a big one. The guest list isn’t completely open the majority of our citizens are celebrating out on the street – but there are certainly hundreds of people here.

Everyone from each of the foreign delegations were invited to celebrate with us, along with many of our most honored citizens.

I admit that I’m nearly overwhelmed by all of the guests and the attention. Sinclair and I spend hours turning to each new person who comes forward to greet us, to congratulate us, to shake our hands and tell us about their excitement for the future of the nation. I do my best to give each of them my full attention and to match their enthusiasm.

The result, of course, is that after three hours of the party I’m totally exhausted. But the ballroom is still packed with people, and our job isn’t nearly done, so I squeeze Sinclair’s hand, and kiss Rafe’s head, and turn to the next person who claims our attention.

“Hey!” A familiar voice shouts, and my face bursts into a grin as I turn to see little Benny from the human refugee camp rushing towards me at the head of about five children, some of whom I recognize from the same place.

“Hey, Ben!” I say, not needing to force my enthusiasm this time as I crouch down and open an arm to welcome him into a hug. “I’m so glad you could come!”

I sent an invitation to the children’s home about a week ago encouraging some caretakers and children to attend, but I hadn’t received any word back. I look over Benny’s head and smile warmly at the other children and at the caretakers who brought them, who each give me a shy wave.

“I didn’t know you were a Queen,” Benny says, frowning up at my crown after he pulls back from my hug.

“Well, that makes sense,” I say, wrinkling my nose at him. ” Considering I just became one today.”

“I thought you had to be born a Queen,” Benny replies, turning his head and studying my crown curiously. Then he turns to look at Rafe, who is dozing a little, his own little crown still perched on his head. “Like him.”

“Well,” I say, considering. “I guess it happens all sorts of ways.”

“So, can I become a king?” Benny asks, curious.

“Is someone already trying to take my job?” Sinclair asks, coming up behind me, and I laugh, looking up at him.

“I think you’ve got some stiff competition,” I reply, and then I stand up, gesturing towards Benny and the other children, introducing them to their King, who graciously leans down and shakes each of the orphans’ little hands. Afterwards, we greet the caretakers warmly, telling them how much we appreciate their work.

“I know that Ella intends to be more deeply involved in the future,” Sinclair says, smiling at me. “If you’ll allow her to.”

“Oh, we’d welcome the help,” one of the caretakers says.

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“Then I’ll come visit,” I say with a big smile. But Sinclair squeezes my hand, letting me know that while he recognizes that I could spend all night with these important guests, we have more to see. So I sigh and crouch down again, telling the children about the huge table of deserts in the next room that they’re welcome to raid to their hearts’ content.

Thrilled, the children rush off.

“We’ll have some more desert sent home,” I say to one of the caretakers as she passes, touching her arm on her way. “A whole truck load – enough for all of the children. Would that be all right?”

She nods, thanking me, and then moves on.

“You like them,” Sinclair murmurs in my ear. “You like that little boy most of all.”

“Yes,” I sigh, glancing up at him. “Am I so obvious with my favorites?”

“Only to me,” he whispers, giving me a kiss on the forehead as we both turn to look at our next guest. But when we see who it is, all of the joy leeches from both of us.

Because standing there, in front of us, ready to congratulate us on the happiest day of our lives, is my uncle Xander.

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