Accidental Surrogate

Ella

It’s been three weeks since the ball, and though I can scarcely believe it, it seems like all the campaign drama passed with Solstice. There has been nothing but calm since the holidays, and I’m beyond thrilled that I’ve been able to relax a bit, even though part of me is waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under us.

I’ve spent my time pouring over baby books, making plans for our nursery, and brainstorming baby names – and the best past is that I’ve felt less nauseated and achy every day. In fact, yesterday marked the beginning of my second trimester – since shifter pregnancies are so short – and it seems impossible to think my baby will arrive in four short months. My stress has already eased knowing I’m leaving the most vulnerable phase of my pregnancy behind, and I don’t even mind that I’ve been seeing Sinclair less now that he’s gone back to a regular work schedule.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I miss him. I miss him much more than I should, but I’m also grateful for the space. It’s much easier to resist our attraction to each other when we’re not constantly together and taking part in intimate rituals and romantic outings.

I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. The little voice in my head mutters. If you’re going to give in eventually, why not throw in the towel now and enjoy being together in the last months before the baby comes? You do realize that in another four months you’ll never be alone again.

I’m not having this argument again. I decide. We agreed it’s better for the baby if we can co-parent without our own relationship drama getting in the way.

You mean you decided and he went along with it because he doesn’t know it’s such a stupid reason. My conscience snipes.

It’s not stupid! I insist. I’m going to be a mother, I have to put my baby first – that’s what being a parent is all about.

You keep telling yourself that. The voice derides. We both know you’re just a big scaredy cat.

Oh put a sock in it! I exclaim, losing my patience. “Stupid conscience.” I mutter aloud, sorting through the clothing racks in my giant closet and trying to choose an outfit for our parenting class tonight. “Uppity, annoying, impossible…”

“Talking to yourself, trouble?” Sinclair’s deep voice breaks through my angry diatribe, and I jump about ten feet in the air.

around, I find him leaning in the closet doorway, watching

big wolf tsks, coming forward and pulling me into his arms, petting me gently. “I’m sorry.” He croons, kissing my hair. “Sometimes I forget

I object, feeling irrationally angry all of a sudden. “It’s your ridiculous shifter stealth that’s the problem. It’s not right that anyone as big as you should be able to move

sneaking suspicion he’s smothering a smile. “It’s my fault, I’m a big

from him, narrowing my eyes.

does smile, “Is there any way I can answer that question

dignify that question with an answer. I turn back to my closet, beginning to rifle through trouser options. “Nothing fits anymore.” I complain, eliminating every pair of pants I come across.

might not be so tender anymore, but they spill out of all my bras, and my favorite fitted tops now stretch and strain to cover my growing tummy. “That’s a good thing, Ella.” Sinclair reminds me gently. “It

Normal women don’t show this much at this stage you know.” My throat is stinging with the threat of tears, even though I know I’m being unreasonable. I feel

tell he feels like he’s neglecting us, but there’s also nothing to be done. He bears so much responsibility, and it’s only going to get worse if he wins the crown. Suddenly I feel terrible for being so grumpy with him, when he’s already blaming himself despite doing everything he can to take

sniffle. “I shouldn’t be giving you a hard

“Here, no buttons, no zippers. You don’t even have to wear a

sliding my arms around his middle and squeezing tightly. Sinclair purrs and snuggles me until I’ve had my fill, and half an hour later we’re back on the padded

feeling physically better now that you’re out of the first trimester, but this is the time when your hormones really kick into high gear. You may already be experiencing some intense mood swings, as well as physical changes to things like hair growth or skin pigmentation.” She looks around at the couples spread out on the mats, and I see

something I encourage you all to take advantage of, as

As if it wasn’t already hard enough to resist Sinclair. I’d known this was part of pregnancy, but I also hadn’t understood how powerless I’d be to my hormones. I’d assumed it would be like PMS mood swings, not these constant extremes. The instructor is still speaking. “Bottom line, mates, it’s your job to keep Mom satisfied and relaxed during these next few months. She’s going to need you to be her rock while she weathers these stormy seas, so I encourage you not to go overboard coddling her – tempting as it may

give the same advice in human birthing classes. I mutter to my

voice sounds in my