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?”

I can imagine a young Sinclair diving headfirst into love without any fear at all – driven by his strength and innate confidence. Now he looks as though he learned his lesson the hard way, and though

because she intends them to stay together forever, or even

plan, though it’s hard to accept that the painful parts of life serve

think that’s a comforting idea.” I reply, thinking of my own relationships. “I’ve never believed in fate or destiny before.. but l’d much rather think that I spent all those years with Mike for a reason I don’t

it wasn’t for him, you never would have conceived this baby.” His eyes sparkle with mischief, and his grin turns positively canine. “Though l’d still like to let my wolf have a go

his hand with my own and wishing I could feel our child’s emotions the way Sinclair does. “You didn’t

to talk about Lydia anymore. I just

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 press my luck on the matter. I know the look of a man who’s said all he’s going to say on a subject, and if I keep pushing he’ll just double

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

was just really cold after

my cheek. “Poor baby, do you feel

I answer, tilting my chin up and shooting him an

behind a closed door before he huffs and puffs and blows my house down to devour me.

up.” Sinclair purrs,

why, I immediately try to wriggle away. I know he just plans on snuggling with me, but the little voice in my head pushes me to give chase, and my human instincts don’t need any encouragement to run

when he strips off my dress, and I don’t

our underwear, and my entire body is surrounded by Sinclair on all sides. The blankets are over our heads, and all I can see is the dim glow of his green eyes. “I

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

me n*ked. I think maybe I should go climb into a nice hot bath instead