Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story Chapter 167

#Chapter 167 – Going to Bed Angry

Ella

After dinner with Cora, I visit the Palace library, searching for any excuse to avoid Sinclair as I continue to work through my feelings. My sister’s troubles with Roger offered some distraction, but I’m not sure a distraction is what I needed. My anger and frustration with my mate hasn’t lessened at all, and I haven’t had the chance to think about our conversation in any depth.

I browse the bookshelves absentmindedly, more caught up in my head than actually paying attention to the available selection. Eventually I spy a Vanaran history book on the top shelf, and my curiosity is piqued. I’d love to learn more about this mysterious territory, but it’s very high up and there’s not a ladder anywhere in sight. If my mate were here he wouldn’t have any problem reaching it for me, but he’s not here.

And he’s not going to be. My wolf pouts, He’s leaving, and we’re going to have to get used to doing things on our own again.

Part of me is ashamed I’ve become so reliant on a man when I spent my whole life taking care of myself and others, and suddenly it feels ridiculous that I should seek out another to solve this problem. Licking my lips, I take a quick visual measurement of the shelves, and look around the room for a chair to stand on.

Finding a plush armchair, I pull it over to the bookshelf and clamber up onto my knees on the cushioned seat. Making sure I’m steady, I slowly get my feet under me, but unfortunately this doesn’t make me tall enough to reach the top shelf. Testing one foot on the arm of the chair, I determine that it won’t topple under my weight. Stretching as far as I can, my fingertips only graze the spine of the book, and I huff in frustration.

Keeping one foot on the arm of the chair, I balance the other on one of the shelves, pushing myself up to grasp the book. Just before my fingers close around the old leatherback, a thundering voice shatters the silence.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Dominic demands, his disapproval slamming into me full force.

hang on but my fingers slip, and I use my free arm to cradle my belly as I fall. I see a whir of motion out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly strong arms surround me. Gasping for air, I look up at my mate with relief, quickly followed by outrage. “Why would you startle me that way!” I

of his scalding temper. “Is that really what you want to say to me right now?” He inquires ominously, looking me over with concern even as he sends waves of Alpha authority through our bond to chastise me. “Goddess, Ella.

out of his arms.

could have toppled or you could have simply

for my own sake, but for my baby’s. The last thing I ever wanted was to risk Rafe. I rub my belly, trying to sense his mood. I feel pulses of uncertainty, but not due to any harm I’ve inflicted. He’s simply responding to my guilt and Sinclair’s anger. “I’m sorry.” I answer hoarsely, not sure if I’m apologizing to my pup

growl. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you weren’t trying to get back at

suggestion preposterous,

warned me your wolf wouldn’t obey anyone but me, maybe this was your way of proving it – making me think you’ll get up

wolf ponders. Maybe it’s not too late to change his mind. She has a point, but that wasn’t what happened and Sinclair will know if I lie. “I didn’t even know you were there.” I remind him sulkily, “And not everything is about

from irritation, moving to regret and guilt from the knowledge Sinclair is displeased with my behavior. Is there a worse feeling than

tighten reflexively on my body. But there is a worse feeling, and it’s failing to protect them or help them when

tears are burning in my eyes. I feel so overwhelmed and I’m not sure how to put my feelings into words. I also don’t want snatches of chaotic emotion to reach him through the bond in case they

off from him. Still, he doesn’t complain and when we finally reach our rooms he asks.

talk about it.” I sniffle, wallowing in self-pity. “I just

sitting area, settling on the couch and arranging me in his lap. “We’re not going to bed angry, little

how childish I sound and not caring. “It’s your fault that I’ve become so

Sinclair purrs sympathetically. “And my departure has thrown that into perspective, has it?” He nods. “I hate to say it, but that still sounds like it’s about me,

talk about it.” I repeat stubbornly,