Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 459: Changes

Cora

I blow lightly on my cup of tea, doing my best to cool it and concentrate on the book that’s open in my lap. But even as I try, my eyes continually drift to the picture window in front of me that overlooks the front of our property, including the driveway where Roger’s going to pull in any minute now.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past two hours.

I sigh, frustrated. I sent him a text a while ago asking him to let me know when he’d be home not that I really need to know, I just…wanted to know.

But Roger is notoriously bad at keeping an eye on his phone, and I know that he and Sinclair have had a particularly stressful day today. So, I’do my best to just…exercise my patience.

But I sigh because, even though patience is usually one of my virtues…

Today? I’m finding it a little hard.

Happy!

The baby’s little tap comes skipping down the bond out of nowhere, and I burst into a grin, looking down at myself.

“Oh, so are you liking the ginger tea, little guy?” I ask, laughing a little as I stroke a hand over my belly.

He doesn’t respond because…well, because I asked him out loud, and he can’t hear me, but I smile nonetheless, taking another sip.

Happy? I ask, sending the word and the feeling down the bond to him.

His answer comes back in an instant. Happy happy!

I laugh again, desperately pleased at this, and wondering what’s going to come next with him. Because he’s getting bigger, I can almost feel him growing by the day, and soon he’s going to start feeling all sorts of new things. But will he even have words for them? Will we feel them before he does, and be able to pass the same emotions back and forth, asking questions like we do with happy? Will it be –

But even as I ponder it, excited, headlights flash across the drive and my face bursts into a grin.

“Daddy’s home, little baby,” I murmur, taking another sip of my tea before putting it down on the coffee table as I watch Roger park the car, and step out, and storm for our front door.

“Ut-oh,” I sigh, watching his every step and continuing to stroke my stomach. “Daddy’s in a mood, baby…”

Happy! The baby pulses, making me laugh for real now.

Because daddy is anything but happy, isn’t he?

This kid – already with his jokes. God, I love him so much.

Roger throws open the door, scowling as he storms through it, pushing it shut behind him and already looking up the stairs, clearly intent on going right up and not even noticing me sitting here.

“Hey!” I call cheerfully, and Roger whips towards me, stopping so fast in his tracks that he almost trips over his own feet.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks almost growls.

I lean back a little in surprise, looking him up and down. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice deep with sarcasm. “Am I… not allowed to sit in our living room?”

Roger scowls, hanging his head for a second and running a hand through his hair before looking up at me again. ” I’m sorry,” he says, and I can tell that he means it even though his voice is clipped. “You just surprised me – it’s been…”

“One hell of a day?” I offer.

And he sighs, and nods.

“Come here,” I say, reaching for him and folding my legs to make space on the couch.

“Actually, Cora,” he says, glancing up the stairs. “Can we just go to bed?”

“Really?” I ask, going a little still. ” You’re not hungry, or…”

“Please,” he says, hanging his head again, almost begging for a moment. “I just want to go to bed. With you. And just…be there. All right?”

“Okay,” I say, a little disturbed now. Because I don’t frequently see him like this. Once we broke into Roger’s tough shell, he revealed himself to be funny, and sweet, and full of jokes. This Roger, which exists even beneath that? Earnest, vulnerable Roger?

Well, if he’s showing me this side…he must really be upset.

I’m on my feet and moving to his side in a second. “Sure,” I say, nodding to him and taking his hand. “Let’s go.”

And my mate nods to me once, tugging on my hand and pulling me up the stairs with him.

We don’t say much as when we get up to the bedroom, instead moving smoothly through our evening routine. Roger gives a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom to take a short shower, washing off

the day. I’m silent as I change into my nightgown, laying out a pair of pajama pants on the bed for him, because I know that’s all he’ll sleep in.

Then I turn on the fire because I want the warmth and a little light to see by, but otherwise shut off all the lights and climb into bed, waiting, idly stroking my stomach.

I watch my mate as he comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, his face serious and his eyes far-off, thinking through something that I know he’ll tell me about in a few minutes when he’s ready. I can’t help admiring him a little when he drops his towel and reaches for the folded pajama pants on the edge of the bed.

Feeling my desire down our bond despite my efforts to keep it to myself, Roger raises his head a little and smirks at me. But I just shrug, because I mean, it’s not a secret.

My mate’s hot. What am I supposed to do when he shows up all naked in bedroom, the fire highlighting the carved lines of his body in a flickering orange glow?

His smirk turns into a full smile by the time he gets the pajama pants on and moves to his side of the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping beneath them. I scootch across the mattress, pressing myself to his side, and Roger lets out a wicked little growl as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, resting his cheek against my chest and letting out a long sigh of comfort.

“Poor Roger,” I murmur, running my fingers through his still-damp hair and cooing softly to him in a way I rarely do.

Because most of our relationship is based on a great deal of laughter and teasing. But tonight? Tonight, I can tell he needs something different.

I start to run my fingernails lightly over the skin of his back in a way that I know he likes. And Roger, to my content, starts almost to purr with the pleasure of it. Interestingly, for how much we usually want to

tear into each other, there’s not too much that’s sexual about this moment. Instead, it’s simply comfort freely offered and gratefully accepted by two people who love each other very, very much.

“Tell me everything, baby,” I murmur, hoping he will.

And Roger, to my pleased surprise, comes right out with it. Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“It’s war, Cora,” he sighs.

“Really?” I ask, unable to keep the dread from my voice. “Did they declare it?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head and wrapping an arm around my waist, wanting me as close as I can get. “But- we were in meetings with the Atalaxians all day and it’s very clear that’s where they’re headed. Dominic could tell, I could tell, dad could tell. They’ve got us in a bad spot, and they want war. So? They’re going to declare it the minute this delegation gets back.”

I sigh, dread filling me, but still…

I mean, we knew it was heading for this, didn’t we?

So, what has him all wrapped up?

“Tell me,” I say quietly, nudging him a little down the bond, letting him know that I know that there’s more.

He doesn’t bother to deny it, instead heaving a big sigh. “Dominic and I talked a lot tonight about what it is we need to do. He sent Ella to that damn dinner -”

“Really?” I ask, my eyes going wide.

“We’re grasping at straws, Cora,” he says, defending his brother even though he should know he doesn’t have to. I’m actually glad Ella’s going to that dinner – there is something weird between her and that Prince, and I for one want her to figure it out.

Plus, I know she’d never, ever betray her mate.

Even if…

Well. No point in voicing my suspicions now, especially if they’re likely to be wrong. No need to raise trouble that’s not already there.

“Everyone’s got to do their part,” Roger says next, sounding a little bitter about it.

Worried, I move down in the bed so that we’re laying next to each other in the dark, face to face so that I can see his eyes. “Tell me what you mean when you say that,” I reply, knowing that there’s something there.

Roger sighs again, closing his eyes as if he can’t bear to look at me when he says it. “Dominic asked me to take the military,” he says, shaking his head. ” To train the armies, to run them, to…to be at the front lines of this war, Cora.”

My blood goes cold as I hear him say it, and dread fills me at the idea of my mate at the front of this war the King’s brother, in charge, a clear target.

And for the first time…

My baby passes me the same emotion back: worry.