Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

It’s all come down to this.

My mind reels as I stare into the dark forest. For weeks I feel like Sinclair and I have been trapped in the same pattern: flirting, holding ourselves back, slipping up and falling in too deep, then retreating. It’s felt like two steps forward and one step back, but the reality is that those one steps have gradually brought us closer to this point. The wild hunt feels like a turning point for our relationship – a critical test to decide whether we become lovers or stay friends – if that’s what you can call us.

I know it’s up to me to decide. For all his affection, compliments and terms of endearment, Sinclair has promised to follow my lead when it comes to taking things to the next level. I appreciate his restraint, but there’s also a part of me that wants him to take the decision out of my hands. It’s just one more impulse this pup has given me that I can’t even begin to understand.

I’ve never wanted anyone to decide anything for me in my entire life, yet here l am agonizing over my desire for a man I barely know, wishing l didn’t have to be responsible for once in my life.

I think that’s the problem. The temptation is so powerful that I want to throw caution to the wind, but I know better. I know so much better. So why am I still debating this?

Because it’s Sinclair. He’s different. He belongs to us. The little voice in my head encourages.

I don’t know what drugs you’ve been taking, but you really need to get a hold of yourself. I counter, feeling more certain now that my conscience has demonstrated just how insane this pregnancy is making us.

This is temporary. It will pass when I give birth. I can’t run around writing checks that my heart won’t be able to cash in a few months. Focus on the pup, focus on the future.

I look around at the other participants in the ceremony: other she-wolves dressed in gowns like my own, their mates glued to them like velcro in anticipation of the hunt. I’m sure Sinclair and I looked much the same a few moments ago, but now I’ve stepped forward to begin the ritual. Ethereal music fills the air, a nearby orchestra playing instruments I’ve never before seen, as drums and singing voices raise towards the full moon.

what Aileen meant when she said shifters can feel the Goddess’s magic. I’m probably just imagining it, like someone who believes they’ve taken drugs and therefore acts intoxicated, but

I feel different tonight.

my face towards the heavens, letting the strange sensations grow. Is it crazy to think I can actually feel the moon

me, and I glance back at

looks as though he’s barely

completely shirtless, sporting only sleek black trousers and bare feet. His

wolf must be right at the surface, and I remember

must be so much more intense for the actual shifters. I find myself shivering and turning away before the voice in my head can tell me to go steal a k!ss or immediately flee. Instead I take a deep breath and set off into the darkness, starting slowly as the

to run once he’s caught me, but

but tonight nothing sounds better than racing through the trees and feeling the cold winter wind on my skin. The deep snow makes it difficult, but the golden light of

pursuit, but once it’s over I’m able to carry on. At this point a true she-wolf would abandon the lantern and clothing to shift, but Sinclair promised me no one would notice

my form as I continue running. I’m grinning so wide my cheeks hurt, and actually on the verge of giggling. Why haven’t l ever run in the forest before? l had no idea

sound set my body alight. He might as well have been touching me, bringing all of my neglected nerve endings to life the way only he can. I’m beginning to really dislike his howls. I can’t let him catch me, if he keeps howling he’ll catch me.

catch me, but now that seems impossible. It’s not even an option.

to stop us? My

I’m never going to