The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Ella
“So you two,” Cora says, flicking her gaze between Roger and Sinclair, ” you’re all right now? After fifteen minutes, it’s all cleared
up?”
Sinclair shrugs. “We kept it pretty cut and dry. He’s on probation.”
“No, I’m not,” Roger murmurs, dismissive, shaking his head to Cora.
“He is,” Sinclair growls. Roger just leans down, pretending to whisper in Cora’s ear but speaking loud enough for all of us to hear,
“probation doesn’t mean anything. But it made him happy to slap a word on the lack of consequences.”
Cora laughs, her face turned up to her mate, and I bite my lip to stifle my own giggle, wanting to be loyal to Sinclair, who just
sighs behind me.
“Either way,” Sinclair says, moving on. “Congratulations, Cora,” he says, his focus on her now and his voice sincere. “I’m very
happy for you – for both of you. It’s a big event.”
“Thank you, Dominic,” Cora says, smiling at him softly and turning her head to the side, clearly touched. I beam at my sister as
well. It’s not that I’ve let her off the hook for keeping the baby name a secret when I want to know so terribly badly – but? Well. I’ll
bug her about it later.
“We are sorry though,” Cora says, reaching up to take Roger’s hand. “I know that...the wedding meant a lot to you, and that it
was going to do good things for the nation. But...” she bites her lip, hesitating, and I can tell that she feels selfish. I open my
mouth to protest against this but she continues before I can start. “But – I needed it to be like this, to be personal. I hope that
you’ll forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Cora,” Sinclair murmurs, smiling at her warmly. “I completely understand you’ve done nothing wrong.”
And quite suddenly, something comes to me. “Cora,” I say, turning my head to the side and leaning forward. “Does.. anyone else
know? About your mark, or your little personal ceremony, besides us four?”
She frowns at me, confused. “Well, no,” she says quietly. “I mean, neither of us really have social media or anything -”
“Or any friends,” Roger murmurs, a little chagrined, which makes me laugh. They don’t need friends, they have us!
“Well then,” I say, a big smile breaking out on my face. “Would you consider...doing it anyway?”

“What?” Cora asks, confused.
“Well, if no one knows,” I say, my smile growing – because this could work! “Why not just have the wedding/ mating ceremony
publicly, like we thought of before?”
“Oh!” she says, surprised, and then she starts to laugh, I think a little inspired by the idea. But then she realizes that she already
has her mating mark and her fingers go to it, brushing it
“We could get makeup artists to cover it up,” I suggest with a little shrug. ” I’m sure they can do it – they do magical things in the
movies.”
“Um,” Cora says, looking up at Roger, who just gives her a simple shrug, clearly communicating that it’s her choice. And then
she grins, turning back to me. “Really?” she says, “You think it would work? And – and it would help you?”
“It really would, Cora,” Sinclair says warmly behind me. “I think it’s precisely the message we want to send to both our people
and some of our honored guests: that humans are equals in our eyes, that they’re part of our family. But, if you’d rather not – if
you’d rather just keep the memory of it to the beach, because it’s special to you
“No,” she says, interrupting with a huge smile on her face. “No, I want to do it – I think...it will be fun!”
“I’m going to mark this side this time,” Roger murmurs, drawing a finger down the opposite side of her throat and shoulder. “See
if I like how it looks any better...”
She scowls and swats his hand away. ” Enough of you,” she murmurs, though I know she doesn’t mean it. Cora hasn’t had
nearly enough of Roger, and I doubt she ever will. I hug my baby close and grin at both of them, so incredibly excited for their life
together.
And to throw them a wedding!
Time moves quickly once the four of us have made our plans, and my days and weeks quickly fill with tasks. I wake up early
earlier than Sinclair, even to take care of the baby and begin to make my plans. He scolds me for it every morning, telling me I
need my sleep or that I should wake him up to help but every morning I brush him off.
Because I feel the same way about him and I’m happy he gets to sleep an extra hour while I take care of things. He needs it.
Sinclair is busier than he’s ever been. He reminds me, in some ways, of the cold, brooding, discerning business man I met at the
beginning of all of this. In some ways I lost track of that man I fell in love with in all of our odd adventures in Vanara, and in the

bunker, and in the RV, and everywhere else.
But now, as our life comes back together to resemble what it looked like before? Steady days, routines, living in our own home
(even if it is a palace now )? I see flashes of him come back. And it’s not that he’s lost the sides of him that he’s shown to me
over the past months but...well, he’s just more complex now, isn’t he?
And, if at all possible, I love him even more than I ever have.
Sinclair made his formal claim for the throne a few days ago, and no one contested it. Now all that’s left is for the governors to
ratify the claim, and the packs to demonstrate their support by paying fealty at the coronation. It’s all gone smoothly, as Sinclair
predicted it would, and so we’ve moved forward with the plans. Delegations from all the neighboring countries are set to begin
arriving in our beautiful Moon Valley over the course of the next few days.
Of course, I’m most excited about the delegation from Vanara including King Gabriel – but I’m also very curious to meet our other
neighbors.
But the thing I’m most worried about predictably is that the Atalaxians have indeed signaled their intent to attend, and they’re
bringing a large delegation.
I do my best to spend a little time every day with Sarah and Jessica, usually in the evenings, bringing Rafe with me to chat and
play. They’re thriving now, and I think that they’re happy and excited about the future that they’re building for themselves but...
Well, I haven’t had the heart to tell them that Xander is in Atalaxia, and that they’re sending a delegation. It’s not that I’m keeping
it from them – if they asked, I’d tell them in a minute, of course. But they’re safe here, and moving forward, and I don’t want
Sarah to have to worry about the past unless she absolutely has to.
So, I keep putting it off, and she keeps not asking so...we’re at a happy little stalemate, I suppose.
“What do you think the Atalaxians be like?” I ask Sinclair one night, laying naked with my belly pressed to his, a little sweaty and
still catching my breath after our evening activities.
“Really, Ella?” he murmurs, tracing a lazy hand down my back. “I do my best work, and you want to ask about the Atalaxian
delegation?”
I giggle a little and rest my chin on his chest, looking up at him. “If you wanted to keep me from asking complicated questions,
Dominic, you shouldn’t have gone and become King, making me a Queen. Should have just stayed a businessman and lived in

our old house, kept me locked away in the bedroom as your happy little mate – ”
He growls, sliding his hands down my body to grip two firm handfuls of my ass. “Don’t tempt me, trouble,” he murmurs, and I bite
my lip as I feel warmth pool at my core, again. “But you’re right,” he sighs, using his grip on me to pull me upwards so that my
face is even with his, so that I can dip my head and press teasing kisses to his mouth. “You’re a Queen now, and these are good
questions.”
“So?” I murmur, each of my kisses getting longer and longer. I can’t help it. “What do you think?”
“I think they’ll be strict,” he says, giving me a healthy smack on the ass to illustrate his point, making me flinch and then laugh.
“And?”
“And distant. They’ll want to seem neutral on everything, even though they’re decidedly not.”
“The women too?” I ask, curious, dropping my head further to trail kisses down the length of his jaw as Sinclair’s hands idly
explore my body.
“They won’t bring any women,” he murmurs, which makes me sit up in surprise.
“What?” I ask, a little shocked. Sinclair opens his eyes, a little hazy with desire, and blinks up at me. “This isn’t new news, Ella –
the Atalaxians don’t understand women as equal citizens. They won’t see them as useful participants in a party of
ambassadors.”
“But even...their wives? Their daughters?”
He sighs, raising a hand to my face and stroking gently at my cheek. ”
Their wives and daughters are those they will seek to protect most. And by protect, yes, I mean isolate. They wouldn’t even think
of bringing their women out of their homes, let alone allowing them to see the rest of the world.”
My mouth drops open in horror and surprise.
“I know, darling,” he says, shaking his head as he looks up at me. “It’s horrible. But...it’s their nation and their customs. We have
no control over it.”
I sigh then, laying back down on top of my mate and resting my head against his warm chest. “This is going to be difficult for me,
Dominic,” I murmur.

“I know, sweetheart,” he sighs, wrapping his arms tight around me, letting me know that he understands and takes my side. “For
me as well. We’ll get through it together.”
I nod, understanding, believing him but suddenly my earlier jokes about being happily locked away in his bedroom aren’t as
funny as they were before.