Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Chapter 134 – Ella Finds a Pa*sage

Ella

I wipe the tears from my face and scan the room, Sinclair’s voice ringing in my mind. I’m still upset with him for making me share my location, but I’m determined to escape before he can endanger himself coming after me. If there’s a way out of this room, I’m going to find it.

Let me help! My wolf requests eagerly, as exhilarated with adrenaline as I am.

You are helping. I roll my eyes. Whose instincts do you think I’m using here? Certainly not my useless human ones.

And it’s true, The stronger my wolf has become, the stronger all of my senses have become. My ears are cocked for the sounds of anyone approaching the room, my eyes are hawkishly raking over every nook and cranny in the bedroom, searching for the tiniest details on the walls and floors. My nose is scenting the air, trying to determine if there are strange draughts of air beyond the interiors of the small space. More than anything, I’m tapping into the strange and mysterious gut feelings which have recently been becoming more and more pronounced, hoping this sixth sense will help point me in the right direction. These are all things I wouldn’t have been able to do before – at least not in the same level of sharpness.

I pat my belly. “Mommy has a silly wolf, Rafe.”

The canine in question snorts in my head, Not as silly as his fathers.

there. I remark fondly, thinking about Sinclair’s possessive, overprotective inner animal who has a conniption if his scent fades from my skin or tries to bribe me with stolen children so I’ll let him avenge my honor. A deep pang rises in my chest the more I

wolf a*sures me, every bit as heartsore as I am – if not more so. The sight of Sinclair’s battle scarred body is fresh in my memories, and the pain I feel for the pain I love suffering thus is almost too much to

answer with renewed determination. “Mommy’s going to get us out of this.” I

and tilting and tugging each and every book. I scour the space with a fine-toothed comb, feeling along the plaster and trying not to get dissuaded when I

the mantle, applying pressure to the heavy grey stones and lifting the grate. Nothing happens. I run my fingers along the underside of the square opening, praying that I find some sort of button or handle, but again I find nothing. Still, something is telling me

handle, but it remains firmly in place, as if it is glued to the floor. My heart begins to race, and instead of lifting, I try to pull it from side to side.

of anyone approaching, terrified that a guard might walk in while the pa*sage is open, but also afraid of making more noise than I already have by closing it. I dash to the desk and frantically try to figure

I settle on the

Royal Highness and Her

in advance of your next scheme, or I’m afraid you might be doomed to fail again. Losing may be what you’re accustomed to, but if you just apply yourself and put in the work, you’d be amazed at what you can achieve. And while I offer this humble advice for your diabolical schemes out of the goodness of my heart (I do worry that if you continue to be such an utter and complete failure, it might further degrade your mental health and you’re already plenty psychotic), I must warn you against targeting me again. Continuing to move against Sinclair is not only dangerous, it is phenomenally stupid. Eventually he

Sincerely,

Ella Sinclair

P.S. Go fuck yourself.

the herbs Adolpho gave me. I grab the tin, leaving the rest behind, and tuck it into my pocket. I quickly return to the fireplace and slip inside, every nerve in my

suddenly I’m in utter, complete darkness. If my wolf was fully awake, I’d probably be able to see through the pitch black tunnel, but instead I can only make out dim shadows. Still, it’s certainly better than nothing. Thanking the goddess for the first step of my escape, I pray that this pa*sage leads me straight out of the palace and that I don’t have to navigate a complicated maze of tunnels that might let me out in another room or worse… get me lost. If I want

at a trot before remembering I’m supposed to be on bed rest. You’ll be more stressed by remaining in danger than you will by a little exercise. My wolf reasons, but I’m not sure. I slow to a quick walk, telling myself that this is better anyway in case the ground is uneven or I come across