Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate - Season 5 Episode 91

I stiffen at the thought of this dark god giving anything to my daughter.

“No,” I gasp, trying to get away from him, but I struggle to move.

“Do not fear, daughter of the moon,” he says, lifting the corner of his lip. “I give no curses to my chosen ones, only gifts.”

And with that the shadows begin to swirl in his hand. My eyes widen as they grow and become a sphere of smoke and shadow.

“No!” I protest again, this time with my voice a little cracked.

“Careful, child,” he growls, taking a step closer, leaning over me now. “If you anger me, I won’t be so eager to give you my gift. You wouldn’t incur my wrath for your life instead of a blessing for hers, would you?”

I walk away from him, not knowing what to do, not knowing what will be worse.

The God of Darkness extends his hand over me and shadows begin to spill from his fingers, surrounding me.

“A blessing,” he murmurs, “for the moon’s first granddaughter from her benefactor. May she live long, dwelling in both darkness and light.”

The shadows, when they touch me, are soft, softer than I imagined, like velvet or mist. When I breathe, they flow into me through my nose and mouth. I gasp, worried, but the

smoke tastes slightly like… mint and cool mornings, and soothes my sore throat…

I look at the God in awe, bowing my head towards him.

“See?” he says softly. “Not everything that dwells in the darkness is evil.”

And then he smiles at me (a cruel, mischievous thing) and gives me another brief bow before Text © by NôvelDrama.Org.

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Before it disappears.

And I blink, and the world – my room – becomes real again.

“Her?” Cora says, abruptly in front of me now, shining a light into my eyes.

“Her!” Sinclair gasps beside me as I blink rapidly, trying to clear my thoughts. “Are you…” he turns his head to Cora, “is she okay!?”

“I’m… um, I’m fine,” I mumble.

“Your eyes,” Cora says, dropping her flashlight and taking my face in her hands, studying me with horror in her features. “Her de ella, they went all black and you froze in place…”

I nod, taking a deep breath, the smell of mint still clinging to the back of my mouth. As I exhale, I run my hands over my stomach and check my bond with my daughter.

She’s still there. She’s just as strong, just as uncomfortable, just as ready to be born.

“Okay,” I say, nodding at my sister, my partner. “It’s – um –” I hesitate for a moment, torn between wanting to explain and the feeling of the next contraction steadily creeping forward. “It was really weird, okay, but right now?” I shake my head at them, a little frantic, “I think we need to push.”

Cora immediately goes back into doctor mode, moving down the bed to position herself between my knees and nodding. “Okay, Ella,” she says, pushing me down a little further so that she’s now flatter on my back. “When you’re ready, you push.”

“Her,” Sinclair growls from beside me, and even as the contraction grips me, I turn my face toward him and close my eyes, pouring all my emotions into our bond: my fear and my shock, but along with them my conviction that… that I’m okay right now, and the baby is, too, but we need to focus on this.

“Okay,” he says quietly as he sits down and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

And, with my partner behind me and my sister ready to welcome my little one, I push with all my might.

Half an hour later our little girl is born.

I’m inconsolable as Cora places her in my arms, tears streaming down my face as I look at my baby, reaching out a finger to caress her tiny little fingers, her perfect little nose. She screams her unhappiness and shakes her little head, which only makes me laugh as I try to wipe away my tears.

“She’s perfect,” Sinclair breathes, curled up behind me, looking over my shoulder at our baby.

“She really is,” I gasp. “Oh God, she’s so cute…”

Cora laughs, sits down next to me and runs a hand over her little head. We are silent for a long moment as I press my son against the skin of my chest.

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“She’s beautiful,” Cora murmurs, her voice almost reverent. “And I love her and I’m going to be her favorite aunt.”

“Just Auntie,” Sinclair murmurs, his voice a little dry.

“Even if I was sixty,” Cora coos, tapping the baby’s tiny belly with a single finger, “I’d be the best.” She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll give you two a couple of minutes, okay? Go break the news to those drunks over there.”

I lift my face and kiss my sister as she wrinkles her nose at me and turns toward the door, taking the nursing team with her. They all did a wonderful job. I am so grateful to them.

But honestly, as much as I want to shout out my thanks to them, all I can do is stare at my perfect little girl.

I lean back against Sinclair as I study his face and he wraps his arms around me, doing the same.

“She looks like you, Ella,” he breathes, fascinated.

“What!?” I protest, honestly a little surprised. “Dominic, she’s all schoolgirl.”

He laughs at this and I can feel him shaking his head. “Putting aside the newborn crunch, her features? And the shape of her face? “Rafe is all me, but Ella… this is you.”

“Little girl,” I murmur, rocking her a little and beaming love and comfort into our bond so that she calms down, just a little. I can feel the tumult of her emotions in our bond—she’s happy to be near me, but she’s cold and a little scared. She cries the sweetest meows and I hold her close to me, thinking it must be so hard to be new in the world. I do my best to let her know it’s okay, that I’m still here. I give her a kiss on her forehead, loving her so much I can barely stand it.

Outside the palace windows we can hear the crowd begin to cheer as the announcement is made: their princess has been born safely. They began gathering last night, wanting to be the first to see her. And today? I had peeked out the front window earlier as I walked through the halls, trying to ease the pain of labor, and was shocked to see the masses of people waiting there, eager to see her.

“I can’t say her enthusiasm is misplaced,” Sinclair sighs. “She She she’s a really good baby.”

“You hear that, baby?” I murmured, smiling at her. “They’re cheering you on!”

We take a long, quiet moment together before Sinclair reaches out and strokes my hair. “Her,” he says quietly, and I hear the concern return to his voice. “What happened?” Before, when you…”

But I shake my head because of course I know exactly the moment he’s talking about. I turn a little so I can see him and quickly, briefly, give him the quick version of what happened, because I know we only have a few minutes before the doctors come back in, and Rafe comes to meet his sister, and we have a lot to do.

My companion turns pale when I tell him how the Dark God took me to the pocket kingdom, how he gave our daughter some kind of gift, how he assured me it was a blessing and not a curse.

“But from the Dark God,” Sinclair murmurs, shaking his head, his voice filled with fear, “who knows what blessing that is to him.”

“I know,” I say, my voice soft, a little sad. “But honestly, Sinclair, the way… the gift came to me, I didn’t feel bad. “I was angry at Mom for keeping secrets from her all these years, but I didn’t get the impression, from the gift itself, that she wanted to hurt the baby or use it as revenge.”

“So how did it feel?” he asks, confused.

“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “It felt… a lot like an open door.” As the words come out of my mouth, I have no idea where they came from and they make no sense. But in a way, they’re right.

But still, as I look at my baby, my stomach churns with anxiety about all the things this could mean for his future.