Accidental Surrogate

Ella

My mind goes blank at first. Sinclair is too close to the truth, to figuring out that I’m not as immune to him as either of us would like to believe. The voice in my head is panicking, but I try to keep it together. Praying for calm, I take a deep breath, and as I exhale I recall the ability to speak.

“Because we’re supposed to be in this together, and you played me.” I murmur, speaking the truth – but not the whole truth. I can’t admit to him that I feel utterly rejected by his ploy, that I feel unwanted on a visceral level and it’s tearing me up inside for reasons I don’t yet understand. “You played me like I’m one of those reporters, or the Prince.”

Sinclair’s face twists into a grimace, and the next thing I know he’s reaching for me, “Please, come here Ella.”

“No.” I insist stubbornly, preparing to move away if he tries to approach me.

“I’m sorry.” He expresses, looking truly remorseful. “I didn’t mean to do that. I care about you, I don’t want to hurt you that way.”

“Well you did.” I reply petulantly. I don’t know where this comes from. With anyone else I would have accepted the apology and moved on, whether I actually felt better or not. I’ve always chosen peace over my own feelings – but I find it very hard to pretend with Sinclair. I think he would know that I don’t actually feel better, so why should I fake it?

“I know.” He nods grimly. “I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need some sort of reparation.” I insist, “Just… do better, Dominic.”

“I will.” Sinclair vows soberly, “You have my word.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, but Sinclair is surveying me closely. I can tell he wants to metaphorically kiss and make up, but as I suspected, he senses my upset is not wholly resolved. “What else?” He prompts.

“Nothing important.” I shrug, not feeling brave enough to ask the questions I’m most curious about.

“Ella,” He says my name as an admonition, scolding me for not being honest with nothing but those two familiar syllables. “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind.”

I might get my answers. “Alright, what was all that about discipline? Those things the Prince said about my insolence? It didn’t just

goes taut, feeling suddenly tense and electric despite the fact that nothing has actually changed. Neither one of us have moved a muscle. Still I know Sinclair feels it too

it’s true?” I gape. “Why, because of the dominance thing? But that’s so backwards! You just said that strength and all that doesn’t have true

to power dynamics, and

men are physically stronger they get

have been socialized out of you. You’ve been completely detached from your

else has to submit?” I guess, feeling a shiver run down my spine. “Even to their

strongest. They need to feel their mate’s dominance to know they’re safe, to satisfy their own inner animal. Only then will they submit.” Sinclair shares. “That’s part of why I think you’d make such a good wolf. I think you have some of those same instincts. You may not realize it, but you often test your limits

talk about discipline… that was serious? Literal?” I squeak

with his big body. “Yes.” He rumbles deeply. “It was. Does that scare you?” I don’t know

______________________

Sinclair

wolf howls in triumph. The gendered nature of shifter power dynamics might outrage

around this idea, “if a she-wolf does something her mate doesn’t

explain, pulling Ella into my lap. “Only weak

“But you said –”

not abuse.”

now, but it’s enough to see the blend of eagerness and apprehension

hasn’t been easy for me to pull back my wolf from treating her like one of our own, especially when she shows so many wolfish qualities. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping this conversation might open a

outs and no screen

I say, to Ella’s obvious relief. “But

don’t understand.” She frowns, fidgeting nervously. Her silky thighs are still clenching and it’s all the more obvious now that she’s settled in my lap. The sweet little human probably thinks I don’t have a clue what she’s

“Just say the