Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate - Season 5 Episode 90

I breathe deeply, working to breathe through the contraction. Sinclair is sitting on the bed next to me, one hand on my lower back and the other gripping my left hand as I squeeze his fingers tightly.

“You’re doing great, Ells,” says Cora, there to my right, guiding me through this. She was the obvious choice to help me deliver my baby, even though three other doctors wait patiently behind our living room door, as well as a small team of delivery nurses.

It’s all excessive, I know, but hey, why not have them on hand just in case? But in the room? For now it’s just the three of us. Roger and Henry are out there too, looking after Rafe and probably drinking brandy and smoking cigars, for all I know.

The contraction ends and my head falls back as I gasp, close my eyes, and work hard to conserve energy. Babygirl: It’s taking longer than Rafe, which is fine, it’s just… it’s a completely different experience. Although I was physically beaten last time, this time I’m just…exhausted.

I can feel Sinclair’s anxiety for me throughout our bond, even if he tries to hide it. He lets go of my hand, shakes his a little, and then lifts a cold washcloth to my head, wiping away the sweat there.

“Thanks, baby,” I murmur, turning my face slightly toward him.

“We’re almost there, Ella,” he responds, understanding.

“She’s right,” Cora says, leaning in to check my progress. “Let’s start pushing for the next one.” She lifts her head and smiles at me. “Are you ready?”

“Are you kidding?” I say, lifting my head to look at her a little. “I’ve been ready for hours.”

My sister’s smile deepens as she gets up and she walks to the door to call the delivery nurses so there are more hands to help with the baby.

“Little Princess,” Sinclair says, giving me a squeeze. “She will be here soon.”

“I’m going to be jealous,” she murmurs, looking at him and straining to make a joke, though I can feel the next twitch, “when there’s another girl in your life, stealing all your attention.”

“Never,” she replies, kissing the side of my head. “You are always my best girl.”

“It better be,” I gasp, but then all jokes are put aside, because the contraction appears in full force. I groan as the pain takes over and Cora quickly moves to the bed, helping me better position my legs as she helps me through it.

“She is ok!” —She says with an anxious voice. “Let’s start pushing!”

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And so I do it: I strive and put all my strength behind, working to bring my baby into the world.

Pain is…agony. My moan turns into a low moan and then into a scream as I push, my world turning dark around the edges. I keep pushing, still listening to Cora’s breath, feeling Sinclair tense beside me.

But when I breathe deeply, the contraction fades and my eyes open.

“Now it’s coming fast,” Cora says, her voice excited, “you’re almost there, Ella! A few more pushes…

But her voice fades and – and the shadows at the edge of my vision, don’t fade –

I frown, blink, trying to understand why, I mean… I’m not going to pass out. This is not the darkness at the edge of my vision that I felt earlier when I felt faint. This is… what the hell, these are real shadows curving around the edges of my room…

“Do you…” I ask, my voice breathless as I move my head, looking around the room, “do you see that?”

Sinclair’s hand is on my face, turning it toward him now, his voice concerned. ” Look?”

“The…the shadows,” I say, turning my face away from his hand and looking around the room again. The shadows… are growing.

“She,” Sinclair says, his voice shaking with worry. “Cora – what is it –”

“I…I don’t know,” Cora says, looking at me. “She? That…”

But her voice trails off and the room darkens as shadows overwhelm her.

And then, suddenly, Cora and Sinclair freeze next to me, and the room somehow becomes a shadow of itself, looking like… like a room in a dollhouse, or something – only half real at all. comparison with…

To the man standing in the center of the room, who appears to be made of the shadow itself. Except his eyes, which burn like embers on his face.

“Hello, Ella,” she says, her voice low and rolling, like thunder.

My eyes open as he takes a few steps forward and the shadows clear, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered, angular-faced man, impeccably dressed in rich fabrics, each a darker shade of black. “Congratulations,” he continues, giving me a brief, mocking bow, “on the birth of his first daughter.”

“Who,” I gasp, terrified and still in a lot of pain, although my recovery process foundation is somehow… on pause – I’m in the middle, but it’s not progressing – I gasp and my hands fly to my stomach. , worried about her.

“Okay,” the man continues, walking to my side to look at me with that smoldering gaze. “I have transported you, temporarily, to a pocket kingdom; I have only taken a second of your life. When we finish our little talk, you will return safely. “No threat to his son.”

“Who,” I stutter, starting to get angry, “who are you?”

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“Do not you recognize me?” he asks, lifting the corner of his mouth. “I’m afraid your mother has neglected you, if she hasn’t bothered to teach you to recognize her husband’s presence.”

“His her…her husband?” I gasp and then my eyes widen as I put the pieces together. My mother, goddess of light, the moon and wolves, was frequently paired, rather unhappily, with her sometimes lover, the God of Darkness.

“Well,” she says with a sigh, “husband for lack of a better term. You wolves, with your partners… makes love very simple, right?

“No,” I growled, looking up at him, even more scared now than before. What the hell are you here for? Is she going to try to take my baby!?

He laughs, smiling at me. “I like your spirit, little wolf; “You remind me a lot of your mother.”

“Why are you here!?” I scream, terrified, still tormented by the pain of childbirth.

“Because I have a right to be here,” she snaps, leaning in slightly and holding my gaze. “You are the son of my beloved, my wife; You should have been mine, if she had not been foolish enough to choose those mortal men to breed you. And so, although you are not biologically mine, I have what could be considered… a personal interest.

I shake my head at him, still not understanding what the hell this has to do with the birth of my daughter.

“She would have been present at your birth,” she says, straightening up, “and your sister’s, if she had known you existed. I was denied that right, and that is why I am here,” he now directs her gaze to my stomach, “to witness hers.”

“What…” I shake my head, my mind thinking too many things at once, “why not Rafe?” Jesse?

He shrinks his shoulders. “Children belong to their parents. “The daughters are the true daughters of the moon.”

My brow furrows at this cryptic statement, but I don’t have time to really think about it because the God… holds out a hand to me.

Instinctively, I shudder.

He laughs.

“Your mother,” he says, shaking his head with a sigh and keeping his hand outstretched. “She taught you not to recognize me, only to fear me. But danger is not the only thing lurking in the darkness, daughter of the moon. There is also great beauty there.”

I stare at him, anger stirring in me now. “It wasn’t my mother who taught me that it was your horrible priests who persecuted Cora and me all our lives trying to steal my son from us…”

The Dark God tilts his head back and laughs, no less. My frown deepens. “Those priests…” he says, waving his hand dismissively, “all mortal politicians, Ella. I gave priests power centuries ago before I lost interest. Whatever they are doing today is their business, not mine.”

I shake my head and start showing my teeth. “Get out of here,” he snapped, “return me to my partner…”

The God of Darkness smiles so widely that the skin around his eyes wrinkles. “What a fire, little wolf,” he says, laughing. “I wish you had been mine.” He sighs and bows his head, his calmness only fueling my anger even more. I open my mouth to make more demands, but he simply raises his hand again and I feel (obviously under his control) the instant need to shut up.

“Enough,” he sighs. “I’ll return you to your home and your homework in a moment. The only thing left is to deliver my gift.”

“A…a gift?” He stumbled over his words, horrified at the idea.

“A gift,” he continues, nodding. “For your daughter. From me.”This