Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

“You look radiant.” Sinclair’s father is beaming up at me from his wheelchair, “how’s my grandbaby treating you?”

“Oh he’s certainly making his presence known.”I laugh, sliding my arms into the sleeves of my coat.

Sinclair is holding the garment up for me, then straightens it around my shoulders as if worried I won’t be warm enough. He’s been particularly on edge tonight, and though I understand his agitation, I’m beginning to tire of being treated like a china doll. “Stop fussing, Dominic, I’m fine.”

“I’m still not sure this is a good idea.” He grumbles. “

Your blood pressure was much too high this afternoon and you didn’t get nearly enough rest.”

“You’re the one who keeps telling me how important these events are.”i remind him. “And I feel perfectly well.

He’s still muttering to himself, and Henry chuckles,

You’re fighting a losing battle, my dear. There won’t be any reasoning with him – I was the same way when his mother was breeding and we weren’t campaigning.”

“It’s too much stress.” Sinclair agrees. “All the media and the royal family, on top of the crowds.”

“Not to mention your brother.” Henry adds darkly. It’s true that this is the first time l’m going to be encountering all of these people together, but it’s also far from the last. The Yuletide Feast is only the third night of the festival, and we still have four more high profile events to get through before we can relax. Even then it will only be a temporary reprieve – we still have the rest of the campaign to get through.

“I’Il be fine.” l insist. “You don’t have to coddle me. “

Both men raise their eyebrows, as if to say that this isn’t my decision and I absolutely do need to be coddled.

Sure enough, Sinclair shakes his head and overrules me.

“We’ll come home at the first sign you feel overwhelmed – and that isn’t up for debate.”

they can’t see my face. However as I begin to step towards the door, Sinclair pulls me back against his chest. The big Alpha lowers his lips to my ear, his deep voice like rough velvet. “I saw

voice sound stronger than

a sudden. “Liar.” Sinclair croons, petting me affectionately. I’m only too aware that his father is only a few feet behind us and can hear every word. I feel my cheeks flush with color, but the elder

we’re going

pile out the door and into the back of the limo, Sinclair effortlessly lifting his father into the seat and stowing his wheelchair in the trunk before joining us. I’m deeply curious to know more about Henry’s relationship with Roger,

older man’s features. “No, I’m afraid my son

have asked.” I apologize, realizing how personal the question

me, looking pensive. “I love my son as any father should,” he shares thoughtfully, “and when you welcome your pup you’ll

made a good Alpha, and I had to do what was best for the pack as well as him. Neither would have thrived under his leadership, and

can see his protective side coming out in response to his father’s sadness. “He’s been after me ever since Mom died, and becoming Alpha

“l just can’t help thinking that there might

hindsight.” l offer gently. “And grief blinds us all, there is no right

these cards were already on the table from the start. I’m sure you did the best you could and that’s all any of us

Ella.” Henry proclaims, managing a dim smile. “I appreciate

was too preoccupied fighting with Sinclair to notice when we departed

feast is happening against the backdrop of the Midwinter Fair, and though I wish we had time to explore the carnival, when we arrive reporters and photographers are clamoring around us the moment we exit

in warning when they edge too close to me, and though they back off, they remain persistent in their demands for questions and photos. So we head straight to the feast, eager to cross the velvet ropes that will block

polite conversation – at least, as polite as one can be with political opponents. Afterwards

bring myself to sit down. “Oh no,” I gulp, holding my breath when

growling at a waiter. “Can you

between us. I’ve got my hand over my mouth, and my face is probably very pale from holding

Ella sick.” Sinclair explains, getting impatient with the man’s slowness on the uptake. “Get it out of here,

too late, at that moment I lower my hand, heaving in a gasp of much needed oxygen, and feeling my stomach turn in the very same second. I shake my head, knowing

as another woman is exiting. I can barely hear their confrontation over the sounds of my own retching, but when Sinclair doesn’t enter I know the stranger must have insisted he not set foot in the lady’s room. Propriety must have won out, but I don’t mind – I hate being sick in front

as a second wave of nausea overtakes me, and I hear high heels clicking across the floor. “Oh you poor