Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

“Wait what?!” I exclaim, certain that I must be hearing things. Sinclair can’t have possibly just said what I think he did.

He smiles, tracing circles on the soft skin of my belly. “You heard me.” He teases.

“Completely n*ked?” I gape, blushing at the idea alone. “Everyone? Even the children?”

“I’ve told you, shifters don’t associate nudity with s3x the way that humans do. It’s our natural state.”

Sinclair explains gently. “No one feels self conscious, because there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I should have known something was up when he came in this afternoon and woke me from my nap, climbing into bed behind me and sliding his hand underneath the hem of my top so he could feel the baby.

I’d whined at being disturbed, but cuddled closer to him anyway, stretching into his tender car3sses like a sleepy kitten. Only once I was purring with contentment did he broach the subject he’d come to discuss.

The fourth night of the Solstice festival is apparently devoted to something called moonbathing. I’d hesitated over this idea when Aileen first showed me the schedule, but had been so distracted by the idea of the wild hunt and the masquerade ball that I hadn’t been able to focus on it. Now, however, I can’t focus on anything else.

Sinclair has just explained that the moonbathing ritual involves stripping off one’s clothes and anointing our bodies with oil, then laying out in the full moon’s light.

l’d been okay with this up until the point when Sinclair clarified that it would happen at a sacred stone circle – surrounded by other shifters.

“But… it’s also natural to be curious about other people’s bodies, doesn’t everyone stare? Doesn’t that bother you?” I squeak, thinking of all the times I’ve been uncomfortable beneath the male gaze when fully clothed, and not wanting to even imagine how much worse it would be n*ked.

“It doesn’t bother me to be studied or admired,” Sinclair shrugs, looking down at me intently. “But I can understand how that might be different if I was a human woman, and used to being looked at like an object. You have to realize that male wolves don’t disrespect she-wolves that way.”

“So when you were with Lydia, it didn’t bother you for your mate to be n*ked in front of other men?” I don’t think I would be so generous if the tables were turned, in fact I’m already thinking about all the she-wolves that will undoubtedly be checking out Sinclair and I do not like it.

“No shifter would be stupid enough to lay their eyes on the Alpha’s mate in the manner you’re thinking – not if they want to keep their heads connected to their bodies.” Sinclair assures me. “And if they’re envious, it’s no threat to me. In fact I enjoy having a partner others covet, it just goes to show I won the lottery, and reminds me to be the best mate l can, so that I’ll be worthy of her.

hand I’m very wary of any man who wants a partner they can show off like a trophy – that was exactly what Mike did and I know it’s a from being truly valued or respected. At the same tine, Sinclair isn’t talking about women the same way Mike used to. He doesn’t want to show off his mate to make others feel jealous, or feel threatened

claim, or set a single paw on her.” He growls wordlessly, sending shivers down

I see the menacing expression on his face. “Sometimes I get caught up thinking shifters are so far ahead of humans, and then

“We all have

notching my chin up

beg to differ.” Sinclair replies warmly, his fingers dancing over my bare skin in increasingly sensuous patterns. “You’re the fiercest little ball of mischief I’ve ever encountered, but you’re also the sweetest thing l’ve ever seen,” He purrs, “or held..”

none of that.” I

strip n*ked in front of a hundred strangers.” I admonish, my voice trailing

to figure out if you’re showing yet. This is a royal baby, remember.” He says, tapping a finger on my belly

in front of the mirror and glared at my middle, willing it

that?” Sinclair arches

feels like a

we admitted that we’re

my shirt bunched up beneath my bre-asts. It’s hard to see anything with his palm in the way, so he traces the outline

changes much sooner than expected, but that scares me too. What if my body doesn’t

because the next thing I know he’s k!ssing my belly –

earning myself a low rumble in Sinclair’s chest, and his green eyes flashing

He insists, a devious, wolfish grin on

I reply tartly, “blame it on the

repeats, k!ssing me again before slyly adding, “But

feeling this way. It didn’t seem strange when the doctors told me he could sense my stress, but

my chest as I contemplate this idea, that we have

his teasing and

What is it sweetheart?”

being silly.” I hiccup, shaking my