Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – Learn werewolf

Ella

“What!” I exclaim, unable to wrap my head around this idea. “But I’m not ready!”

“You will be.” He promises. “Aileen will keep working with you tomorrow, and then we’ll go shopping so you can look the part. It’s only a meal, no one is going to be quizzing you on werewolf politics.”

“I don’t know.” I fret, “what if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’ll be with you the whole time.” Sinclair vows. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you put your foot in your mouth.”

This does make me feel better, but I’m still woefully far from feeling confident in my ability to pa*s as a completely different species. “Can’t we wait a little while?” I request anxiously. “I promise I’ll never miss another event, I just need a little more time.”

“Ella, the elections are in three months.” Sinclair says softly. “We don’t have much time to waste. Very few people change their minds at the last moment. My image has been marked with controversy from day one because I don’t have a family.”

“I don’t understand, why is that so controversial if the King is something people vote on. It’s not like having an heir is going to decide the future of succession.”

“Because it’s not about succession. It’s about personal stability. Unmated Alphas are viewed as being more temperamental and aggressive. If I have a mate and a pup however, people will view me as more grounded and cautious.” Sinclair explains.

“Is that true?” I ask, “that unmated alphas are wilder?”

Sinclair grimaces but nods, “To a degree, yes. Some men are more or less aggressive naturally, but it makes a difference when you have someone to take care of – someone who might be harmed if anything happened to you.”

“Okay, so you’re saying it has to be tomorrow?” I surmise, “the sooner you turn your image around, the better.”

“That’s right.” Sinclair agrees. “As long as you’re well enough, I need you there.”

you promise you won’t leave my side?” I

my word.” He

then.” I concur, not feeling half as

doctor – who by now has finished his exam – steps out, leaving me with Sinclair to change clothes before we check out.

you going to…?” I trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on my train of thought

a knowing

cheeks going

furrows, but there’s a devious glint to his intense eyes which makes me think he knows exactly what I mean. “Human modesty.” He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. “So prudish, you’ll see soon enough, wolves aren’t nearly

prude! Or repressed!” I defend hotly, climbing down from the table and regretting it instantly. A second ago I was

Goddess made our bodies perfect as they are, why would we

the gown off over my head, I stomp over to the corner where I left my clothes neatly folded. I tug them on quickly, but not so quickly that Sinclair will think I’m embarra*sed about being exposed before him. When I turn

through with it.” He confesses.

easily. You might have seven senses

as he closes the distance between us, invading

____________________

do you think?” I ask a few hours later, as I stand in front of a full length mirror

penetrating gaze running up and down my body as

trip. I’m enamored by the stunning clothes around us, but it seems so extravagant to spend so much on material things. I’m only too aware that orphans are starving in this very

but he only smiles at me. How has our relationship changed so quickly? A couple of days ago he only glared at me, now he always seems to look

memory rises, and I recall that he gives at least half his fortune to the less fortunate. “If you still have

can only blink, Mike never listened to my advice – or indeed anything I said – with so

dress to which he’s referring. It’s the same emerald

“It suits you, besides,

matter?”

and I don’t want people to

squeak, not

the dressing room chair and prowling towards me. My pulse sp ik es as he approaches, and suddenly I realize why I’d felt like a rabbit facing a wolf when I went to plead Cora’s case with him. That’s basically what we are, he could snap me up in one bite, and I’d be helpless to stop him. “A mark,” He begins, h o o king his finger under the spaghetti strap of my gown and tugging it

gulp, too focused on Sinclair to fully process his

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