Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Chapter 138 – Ella Shifts

Sinclair

I don’t remember much about my own experience shifting for the first time. I remember the blinding pain, the torment of having every bone in my body broken, every muscle torn to perform the strange alchemy of reshaping my into a wolf. I remember it feeling as though it lasted forever, the certainty that it would never end… that I was surely dying. I didn’t understand how anyone could survive such torment, but my Father was beside me every step of the way, holding me, comforting me and promising that it would be alright. I recall the rumble of his steady, rea*suring voice more than anything else, but I never imagined how hard it must have been for him to watch me suffer thus.

Now I understand only too well. It’s worse with Ella, because all her senses are coming in at once – the entire world suddenly becoming to sharp, too bright, too loud. And her agony is deeper, because in becoming her wolf she’s also losing our baby, the baby she waited and longed for over so many years. I’m devastated to know our son won’t survive, and I can feel his immense stress through our bond as Ella’s wolf emerges, but the worst part of all this is knowing I can’t fix it. I can’t protect either of them from the brutality of nature.

I would gladly take on Ella’s pain myself. I would gladly suffer so that she doesn’t have to… but I can’t, I can only be there for her and try to ease her distress. When the helicopter lands on the roof of the mansion, I carry Ella down to my room, struggling to hold onto her as her small form jerks and spasms with more strength than she would ever be able to manage normally. She’s still shivering with cold, and though her wolf is waking up, I’m worried that it may not be fast enough to save her fingers and toes.

“Look baby, look – it’s your nest.” I tell her, unwrapping her from my coat to deposit her on the bed.

Ella is still in the beginning stages of her shift, still lucid enough to know where she is and what’s happening. It won’t stay that way, of course. In a few hours she’ll be so consumed by pain that she won’t know her own name anymore. She peeks through the darkened room, taking in her surroundings. With a pitiful moan, she weakly crawls deeper into the pillowy haven, both relieved to be in her safe haven and heartbroken to know she won’t need a nest much longer. I quickly bury her trembling form in blankets, and drop a kiss to her tear-stained cheek, promising to return shortly.

have turned out if I hadn’t waited so long to go in after her. I’d been trying to respect her wishes, to make her escape as safe as

to my internal diatribe, and I return to the bedroom to find her writhing in discomfort under the blankets. When I try to lift her she resists,

then try to take it away – even if it is only temporary. “We

so ruthless with her, but I know it’s for her own good. I can’t get her to be

but until her shift is over, administering any kind of care to her is going to be harrowing. Ella lashes at me the only way she can, telling me she hates me, that I’m a monster and she’ll never forgive me for this. I know she’s not herself, but I’d be lying if I said these words didn’t hurt, digging into my already aching heart

pain that much worse. The sounds and chaotic scents of the city have already amplified the pain she was feeling in the forest, and I’m trying my best not to add to her plight. I wish I could get some food into her to help provide her energy for what is yet to come, but I know it will be impossible. It’s probably for the best anyway, since her taste buds

as a horrible crack fills the air, and I know we’re out of time. She howls with pain as she enters the second stage of her shift, and my wolf whines helplessly, rabid with the need to ease her torment. I pull her from the bath and return her to the nest, letting her feel my nearness and praying this will comfort her. Ella’s

than a glowing gold ring around pitch black pools. “I don’t want to be a wolf anymore.” She whimpers,

if I could, little one.” I

mouth opening in a silent wail, beyond the ability of making

of the shift, Ella’s begging has ceased. Instead the pain wracks her body with vicious sounds of breaking bones and rending flesh, contorting her into unnatural shapes

father enters after one such episode, finding me cradling her sleeping, broken body. I rock her and mutter in her ear, hoping she’ll be able to hear me

father encourages gently, rolling close enough to place