Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story Chapter 13

Chapter 13 – Pregnancy diet

Ella

This is confusing.

It was much easier for me to hate Sinclair when he was being overbearing and bossy, I’m not sure what to make of all this kindness. It seems too good to be true, and that’s a guaranteed red flag. I learned the hard way growing up as an orphan, if it seems too good to be true, it’s because it is.

At the same time, I can’t bring myself to pull away from Sinclair. He’s still holding and rocking me more tenderly than I ever could have imagined. Has anyone ever held me this way? Mike certainly didn’t, and while Cora has always comforted me in times of need, this does not feel like cuddling Cora. I’m aware of Sinclair’s touch in a way that is far from sisterly, I feel as though I’m being scalded by his heat, and wonder if werewolves run higher temperatures than humans.

It strikes me quite suddenly that if Sinclair is half this attentive with his children, my baby will have more love than I could have possibly hoped for. He really will make a wonderful father – a*suming this isn’t some act to make me agree to some new condition on our agreement. Then again, I remember how kind he’s always been to Jake and Millie, how obviously he loves children.

I’m not sure where it comes from, but suddenly I feel a rush of jealousy for the woman who will become his mate. She will be very lucky indeed, and it’s obvious his sperm wasn’t the problem with his past fertility struggles now. They’ll probably have many children together, and my baby can have siblings to love and play with. I might not be able to have a big family, but my child will be part of one – and that’s what’s important, right? So why do I feel so bitter at the thought of another woman being with Sinclair?

I might suspect that a she-wolf would feel threatened by my baby, because it would prevent one of her own pups from becoming Sinclair’s heir, but I know that’s not it either. I snuggle closer as my tears slow, and Sinclair purrs, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. Why is it so hard to pull away from him? Why does the idea of leaving his arms make me so disappointed?

I can’t be attracted to him. I can’t. It’s a recipe for disaster!

about?” His deep voice sounds in my ear, and I jolt as if I’ve been shocked. I can feel myself coloring already, and

try to conjure an excuse that would explain my embarra*sment, so I

might

this, and neither do I. My craving hasn’t been satisfied yet, and no one has ever deigned to tell me what I can or cannot eat. “I’m an adult,

me,

slip off his knee and rise to my feet. His collar is soaked through with my tears, and though I’m standing

you something else, what’s your favorite dish?”

the door. My fingers are inches from the handle when a tree trunk arm circles my

clucks in disapproval, setting me down on the

go wherever I wish here.” I remind him. “I want to go to

He agrees, “but not if you’re only going to fill up on ice cream. That baby needs more than sugar and

baby wants what it wants, and there’s no reasoning with my hormones. They are stronger than any PMS or mood swing I’ve ever experienced before, it makes me feel like a different person. I’m a mature adult, I’ve been on my own my whole life – I raised myself and Cora, even though

one ever cared for you enough to set limits?” He asks, searching my face. In

an orphan, remember?” I bite, my voice thick with emotion. “No one has ever cared for me at all – not the way you

now.” Sinclair proclaimed firmly, leaving no room

room, trying to get hold of myself and wrap my brain around this strange new relationship with Sinclair. I feel very confused by his behavior, and my own feelings. My body is responding to him like it’s never responded to anyone – it feels as if I’ve come alive after a very long sleep – but I have to wonder whether that’s only the baby? Surely if there is such a strong bond between Sinclair and the pup that they have a me ntal link, I must

almost don’t realize it when the man in question returns, carrying a tray. He sets it down in front of me and though I’m feeling contrary enough that I’m tempted to reject it on principle, that impulse evaporates as soon as he raises the cloche to reveal the meal he’s prepared.

I ask, astonished. This is not something he could have possibly learned from his link with the baby. It’s not a craving, but a personal fact very few people

ways.” Sinclair answers slyly,