Accidental Surrogate

Some of my confidence has waned on the ride home. Sinclair has been so mysterious about this scent marking business, and I don’t like the way he keeps looking at me – as if I’m some prey to be devoured.

There’s still so much I don’t understand about this word, like how carrying his child can make me smell more like a wolf myself, or how someone can leave a mark which must be sensed and smelled, rather than seen with the naked eye. Not for the first time, I’m jealous of shifters’ heightened abilities. The more time that passes, the more enchanted I am by the idea of transforming, of letting out one’s inner animal and being truly wild and free. I don’t know why I like the idea so much – it’s not like I have an inner animal to release, so I’m not actually missing out.

“You look nervous.” Sinclair observes, resting one proprietary hand on my knee as the car speeds along. Of course, his touch only makes me more antsy.

“You can fix that.” I suggest, “it doesn’t have to be a surprise.”

“True, but it’s much more fun this way.” He smirks.

“Fun for you maybe.” I mutter mutinously. “Besides, if you want your scent to be strongest tomorrow, shouldn’t we wait?”

“And deprive myself of the opportunity to do it a second time?” He arches a brow, “why on earth would I do that?”

“I…” I don’t know what to make of this. If he were anyone else I’d think he was flirting with me, but that’s not possible. Wolves and humans don’t mix. Maybe he simply enjoys teasing me, like a cat toying with a mouse. He certainly enjoys making me squirm. I realize this must be the reason, and suddenly I find myself feeling very indignant. I don’t like the idea of being some plaything to the hungry predator. I narrow my eyes at him. “Maybe I won’t let you.” I decide.

The hand on my knee tightens, but not enough to hurt. “What was rule number one, little human?”

“That I should be as relaxed and happy through my pregnancy, so you shouldn’t be making me nervous.” I reason, knowing full well he expects me to confirm that he – as Alpha – is in charge.

“You forget I have a link straight to our pup, I know when you’re stressed, and when you’re just making mischief.” Sinclair rumbles. “But if you want more justification for doing it often, it’s to avoid scenes like what just happened. If people can’t see your shoulder and also smell me on you very powerfully, they can be fooled into thinking I have marked you. We can give the mating ceremony excuse to those who ask, but it would be better to avoid the questions altogether.”

A little while later, Sinclair is standing in front of me in my room, looking so powerful and attractive I’m almost too distracted to hear him speak. “Take off your clothes.” He instructs.

all of

better if we’re skin-to-skin.” He says, unbuttoning his

the sight of his muscular body and feeling

off for you?” He asks, arching a brow and

a deep breath, I carefully lift

_________________

Sinclair in a ball gown, done up from head to toe in makeup, jewelry and heels, it seems hard to believe Sinclair was rubbing his mostly naked body all over

to impart his scent on every inch of my body. This second time, however, was completely different. There were no explanations, no soothing caresses for my frazzled nerves. He came to me with a mission

finally at the campaign dinner I’ve been preparing for non-stop over the last 48 hours. Sinclair quizzed me in the car on the way over, testing my knowledge of shifter society and nodding

an incredible palace, I can’t keep my jaw from

pup will be raised if

is the current King stepping down?” I ask as we climb the marble stairs, mostly trying to distract myself from all the flashing cameras and reporters screaming

“Alpha Dominic, over here!”

Dominic, who’s

Sinclair shares. “He’s getting old and is no longer the strongest among us. The

not have heirs of his own?” I question, trying my best to

Sinclair intimates, ducking his head low enough that his lips brush the shell of my ear.

bother me. I feel confident by his side,

reporters behind and are crossing the ballroom to a pair of thrones at the end of a great hall. The throngs of

and Queen. They’re both incredibly impressive. The king’s hair is streaked with gray, but he

while I dip into a curtsy. “Alpha Dominic,” The king greets Sinclair with a smile that doesn’t reach