Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

I sleep through the night and well into the next day.

My mind is foggy when I wake, and it takes a moment for everything to come rushing back to me. I wince as the memories of my hypnosis session take hold, and my first thought is of Rafe. I tap into our bond. The tiny being is asleep, but I can feel the lingering stress and fear clinging to his consciousness. I cradle my belly in my arms, feeling a new depth of sorrow for causing my child pain – beyond regret, sadness or guilt.

The force and scale takes me by surprise, and I know I have to work on controlling the feelings I send through our bond. Suddenly I understand only too well why Sinclair holds bad feelings back from me, and though I don’t like being kept in the dark, I don’t think he’s wrong either. In fact, I’m glad my mate is far enough away that he couldn’t feel my fear and pain yesterday too.

It would have affected him so much more than it did Henry, and he has more than enough to worry about as it is.

I take a bubble bath, and as I rest in the steaming water my pup stirs, fluttering in my womb and emitting a pulse of cautious energy…

He’s still wary, still confused and upset by what he heard and felt during my trance. “Hello sweet pup.” I hum, stroking my navel and wishing I could rock him in my arms already. “It’s okay, everything is okay.” I send all the affection, solace and calm I can summon down to him, and he relaxes, his miniscule fingers clutching at the wall of my uterus as if he’s reaching for me. I rest my hand on the opposite side of his, singing a soft lullaby and wishing I had a male’s ability to purr.

I think Rafe feels the same way, because a moment later he sends a fuzzy, half formed memory to me – of large, protective hands and a deep rumbling sound, the thing that comforts us both more than anything else. A tug of longing accompanies the hazy thought, and I realize he misses Sinclair.

I know, my love. I miss him too.” I share, pausing my singing for a moment as I struggle to hold back my own pining. I want nothing more than to feel Sinciair’s touch, to hear his beloved voice murmuring comfort in my ear – even from hundreds of miles away. At the same-time, I can’t bring myself to call him. If I do, I know he’ll sense that something is wrong, and I’m not going to distract him from the war effort by making him worry I can’t handle a few memories. After all – I lived through these things, if I was able to survive them then surely I can survive remembering them.

So I pull myself out of my bath and get dressed, switching to a flowing maxi dress when I realize my maternity jeans are too tight now to fit over my h!ps and belly.Are you having a growth spurt, munchkin?” I ask my pup, excited and pleased that he’s getting bigger and stronger.

okay?” I add, remembering the birthing class where they told us to expect twelve pound babies. I wonder if I would

growling stomach down to the kitchens for a snack, my guards straighten up and puff their c.hests out, as if they want to look as large and powerful as possible. It’s a bit odd, but I don’t think anything of their behavior until I get downstairs and feel all the eyes following me through the palace,

to curl in on myself to hide from the scrutiny of so many strangers, I notch my chin up and ignore them. It isn’t until I hear another snatch of speech nearer the kitchens that I realize

and plate upon plate of food is being set in front of me, eager cooks and maids murmuring their admiration and asking me to name any dish or delicacy, promising to wh!p up whatever I desire. I smile and thank them, insisting I don’t need anything special. still, the head Chef, an older woman with a no nonsense att!tude, refuses to let me leave until I’ve told her my favorite meal, promising to cook it for supper this evening, I oblige, then quickly retreat to the orphan’s wing. If there’s anyone I can count on not to treat

she arches a sardonic

when I hardly recognize myself anymore. “Good afternoon, Isabel.'” I greet warmly. There’s a baby wrapped in a sling against her c.hest, and I move forward to admire the child. Sadie stares up at us with wide blue eyes, and I stroke

she feels for the infant. “She always wants

strolling around to check on the other pups. Even with the children we’ve been able to foster with local families, the planes keep bringing more, and the nursery is growing to be too

from the city express interest in helping here. If you had more hands on deck, you could take turns with Miss Spoily there.” I offer, nodding towards Sadie and watching Isabel’s expression closely. Her eyes narrow and I add,

arm around Sadie’s back, and I know I’ve read her correctly. She’s clearly attached to the

would have to interview

his crib, begging to be

bounce him in my arms, but his laughter dies away

making

I love naps. Naps are the

looks at me curiously. “You take

I can.” I share, studying his small face as

He tells me a minute later, looking