Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Chapter 491 – A Gift

she

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.

“Fear not, daughter of the moon,” he says, lifting the corner of his lip. “I do not give curses to my chosen ones, only

gifts".

And with that the shadows begin to spin in his hand. My eyes widen as they grow and

They turn into a sphere of smoke and shadow.

"No!" I protest again, this time with my voice a little broken.

“Careful, girl,” he growls, taking a step closer, leaning over me now. “If you make me angry, I won't be so

eager to give you my gift. You wouldn't provoke 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 he live long,

dwelling in both darkness and light.”

The shadows, when they touch me, are soft, softer than I imagined, like velvet or fog. When

I breathe, they flow to me through my nose and mouth. I gasp, worried, but the smoke tastes faintly of…

mint and fresh mornings, and relieves my sore throat...

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

"See?" she says softly. “Not everything that dwells in darkness is evil.”

And then he smiles at me (a misguided and cruel thing) and gives me another short bow before

Before it disappears.

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

"She?" Cora says, abruptly facing me now, shining a light into my eyes.

"She!" Sinclair gasps next to me as he blinks rapidly, trying to clear my thoughts. "Are…"

He turns his head towards Cora, “Is she okay!?”

“I'm… um, I'm fine,” I murmur.

 

 

“Your eyes,” Cora says, dropping her flashlight and taking my face in her hands, studying me in horror.

his features. “She, they all turned black and you stayed frozen in place…”

I nod, take a deep breath, the smell of mint still clinging to the back of my mouth. As I exhale, I pass my

hands over my stomach and check my bond with my daughter.

He's still there. She is just as strong, just as uncomfortable, ready to be born.

“Okay,” I say, nodding toward my sister, my partner. “It’s – um –” I hesitate for a moment,

torn between wanting to explain and the feeling that the next contraction is constantly advancing. "Was

really strange, okay, but right now?” He shook his head at them, a little frantic, “I think

“We have to press.”

Cora immediately goes back into doctor mode, moving down the bed to position herself between my knees and

nods. “It's okay, Ella,” she says, pushing me a little lower so that she's now flatter on top of me.

back. “When you're ready, you push.”

“She,” Sinclair growls beside me, and even as the contraction takes hold, I turn my face toward him and close my eyes.

eyes, transmitting all my emotions to our bond: my fear and my surprise, but along with them my

conviction. that... that I'm fine right now, and so is the baby, but we have to focus on this.

“It's okay,” he says quietly as he sits up and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Let's do it.”

And, with my partner behind me and my sister ready to receive my little girl, I push with all my strength.

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,

extending a finger to caress her tiny fingers, her perfect little nose. She screams her unhappiness and shakes her

little head, which only makes me laugh while I try to dry my tears.

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

“She really is,” I say between gasps. “Oh God, she is so cute…”

Cora laughs, sits next to me and runs a hand over her little head. We were silent for a long time.

moment as I press my son against the skin of my chest.

“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 were 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

to break the news to the drunks who are there.

I lift my face and kiss my sister as she wrinkles her nose at me and turns toward the door, leading the

team of nurses with her. Everyone did a wonderful job. I am very grateful to them.

 

 

But honestly, as much as I want to shout my thanks to them, all I can do is look at myself.

perfect little girl.

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