Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

I’m holding my breath for the second time this evening, though this time it isn’t to save myself from any bad smells or illness. Now l’m waiting to see if Sinclair will be honest with me about his ex-wife, or if he’ll let me down again with another lie. In truth I’m expecting him to disappoint me, though I don’t believe he has bad intentions. On the contrary, I think he’s much too determined to protect me – but he’s very mistaken if he thinks keeping me in the dark is going to make me safer.

If anything it will put me more at risk. I don’t want to be blindsided again, and after what happened with Mike I feel especially sensitive about dishonesty – however well intentioned.

He sighs, and drops his hands from my face. His green eyes bore into me, and a muscle flutters in his cheek, betraying his agitation over the evening’s events.

“Roger wasn’t entirely wrong. Lydia is back because she wants us to try again.”

For a moment I’m so surprised he actually admitted this that I can’t speak. At the same time, my heart sinks and swells. It hurts me to know this information, but I’m touched and impressed that Sinclair confided in me. He really does seem to be trying to do better and communicate more, and I appreciate it immensely. As I work through my conflicting feelings I gradually wrap my mind around his words. “Try again.” I repeat. “For a baby, or as mates?”

“Both.” Sinclair answers simply, shaking his head.

But it’s not going to happen.”

I blink, “Why not?”

“There’s a reason I didn’t go after Lydia when she left.” Sinclair growls, a dark look overtaking his features.

“She might have walked out, but our marriage was over for a long time by then.”

“But I thought..” I trail off, remembering Sinclair and Roger’s conflicting statements about mates. Roger made it sound like fated couples shared a love deeper than any ocean and no chosen bond could ever compete, but Sinclair described things differently. He said that he and Lydia hadn’t been good for one another, that some chosen couples were happier than fated ones. “You’re fated,” I finally continue, wondering if I’m asking this because I believe it, or because I’m afraid of the possibility. “Don’t you love her?”

imagine the boy he once was. I can imagine a young Sinclair diving headfirst into love without any fear at all – driven by his strength and innate

the experience in order to become the person they’re destined to be, not because she intends them to stay together forever, or even that they’re well suited to each other.” Sinclair explains thoughtfully. “Sometimes they might be sent to test a chosen

to accept that the painful parts of

before.. but l’d much rather think that I

it wasn’t for him, you never would have conceived this baby.” His eyes sparkle

I could feel our child’s emotions the way Sinclair does. “You didn’t say whether you still love

don’t want to talk about Lydia anymore. I

me, but I prefer his silence over untruths or empty platitudes. Besides, he told me he wasn’t going to get back together with Lydia, and I don’t feel confident enough with him to

all the bedding piled around my body. “It’s only eight o’clock.” He reminds me, his brow wrinkling with concern when he realizes I’m still wearing my feast dress. “Were you too exhausted to

really cold after the festival. I couldn’t feel my fingers or

grazing his knuckles over my cheek. “Poor

and shooting him an

a closed door before he huffs and puffs and blows my house down to devour me. Suddenly the goosebumps covering my arms have nothing to do with the cold air, and

warm you up.” Sinclair purrs,

the little voice in my head pushes me to give

he strips off my dress, and I don’t complain when he removes his own clothes

we’re both in our underwear, and my entire body is surrounded by Sinclair on all sides. The blankets are over our heads, and all I can see

needs skin to skin contact to work.” He smirks – l can’t see it, but I hear it in his voice

just like having me n*ked. I think maybe I should go climb into a nice hot bath instead of letting you