Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

The Baby in the Forest

Ella

Sinclair and I both gasp at the same moment, and my eyes fly open, finding his. We are both frozen in place, but then another cry sounds and we are instantly in motion, bolting through the forest, searching for our son.

“Rafe!” I cry, my voice desperate as Sinclair pulls ahead of me on his long legs. “Rafe, baby! We’re coming!”

Rafe’s cries are louder now, more solid, the sound of a real baby crying real tears. And then

suddenly something catches my vision out of the corner of my eye and I skid to a stop, turning left while Sinclair continues ahead.

And suddenly, I see –

A bassinet, of all things, sitting alone in the middle of the forest. And in it, I know, is my baby.” Dominic!” I call, wanting him back, wanting him at my side, but I don’t wait. Instead, I hurry to the side of the white basket, gripping the edge of it in my hands as I pull myself closer to it, desperately looking inside –

And then.

There he is.

My baby boy, my pup, my child–looking exactly as I knew he would be – not how I imagined he would look, but how I knew he would be.

I am breathless, wordless, as I reach for my child, who mews quietly with discontent in his little bed, swaddled in a clean white blanket. Slowly, softly, I left him into my arms, just staring at him as I hear heavy footsteps pounding behind me.

“Ell-“I hear Sinclair start, but then, as I turn, he forgets the rest of the word. He stutters to a stop, his mouth falling open as he takes in the sight of us – both of us – mother and child. But I barely spare him a glance, returning my gaze to my infant son.

“Hey, baby,” I murmur, my throat choked with my joy and my tears. “Hey, baby Rafe. We’ve been looking for you.” Slowly, I begin to rock and bounce him, soothing him, letting him feel me holding him against me, letting him know that I’m here, and I’m so sorry, and how I love him with the entirety of my being.

I hear Sinclair take a few steps closer and I tilt the still–crying baby towards him, letting my mate have a look at his son. I look up into Sinclair’s face as I hear him choke. I’m a little shocked – but honestly, not surprised – when I see tears streaking down his face.

“Hey, kid,” he starts, his voice wavering, his hand shaking a little as he reaches out his giant mitt to touch him. But before he can lay a finger on him, I see Sinclair hesitate, pulling his hand back.

ask, laughing a little.

and staring down at our little boy’s perfect porcelain skin, his little mop of

the baby a little, causing him to fuss and hiccough as I shake my head at Sinclair. “He’s your son, Dominic. You won’t hurt him. You won’t let yourself.” So, still hesitant, Dominic reaches out just the tip of

hear his heart in this throat. “We’re so excited for

I look up at Sinclair and fall in love with him all

I offer, holding the baby out towards him.

and shakes his head. “Ella –

I want to hold him just like this forever. Instead, Sinclair takes a step closer to me and wraps his

up at us sleepily with his grey little

and strong,” I whisper to

can’t wait to watch

be strong, buddy,” Sinclair whispers, his voice catching. “Just hold on. Your mama’s going to

endure. No wonder he had been hiding, had shrunk away from me and the horrors of this world. “It will be different now – it will be safe, and good – you’re my only job now. We love you so

on.” And as we watch, Rafe’s little hand uncurls and wraps around his father’s giant

are the world to me.

we’re out of time,” I say to Sinclair, holding my baby tight against

no reason to fight it. All dreams come to an end, even perfect ones like this. Hurriedly, he turns my face to his, pressing a kiss to my mouth.

into mine. “You come back to me, Ella. Wake up. As soon

nod, assuring him. “I will,” I promise. “I’m coming back to you. We both

his mouth to say something else, but before he can, the dream fades to nothing. And then there’s only

Sinclair

to consciousness, the memories of the dream ringing through my mind,

But…

alongside me. That she’s just laying still, breathing those same shallow breaths,

“Good, you’re up.‘