Accidental Surrogate

Sinclair

I decide to work from home for the rest of the day.

I’m so amazed by everything that’s happening, and overwhelmed by how much our lives have changed in the last 48 hours. Two days ago I was grieving the relationship I believed was impossible, wishing against all logic that Ella could be a wolf. Now all our dreams have come true, yet I feel reluctant to trust these changes. It’s all too wonderful, even if mysterious forces have clearly been at work – pulling the strings of our lives from far away.

I hate the idea that someone has been watching and manipulating us from afar – even if it is the Goddess. Still, the Goddess isn’t what frightens me most. The thing that frightens me most is knowing that someone out there knows the truth about Ella, they know secrets she and I have yet to uncover, and might use them against us. True, it seems that bringing us together was for our benefit, but the picture is never clear until it’s complete. Shifters in this city know exactly how vulnerable Ella is right now, and we can’t wake her wolf for another three and a half months, at least.

Around seven I realize that I’m not going to get any more work done this evening. Instead I head upstairs to my bedroom, expecting to find my sweet mate resting before dinner. Instead, I walk in to find Ella out of bed and pacing, overflowing with anxious energy. The second thing I notice is that every pillow, blanket and cushion in the linen closet has been piled onto the bed, and the canopy curtains drawn closed.

Ella stops in her tracks when she sees me, wringing her hands. “Baby, what is it?” I ask, crossing over to her. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not right. I’ve been trying to fix it but I can’t… it’s not right.”

I pull her into my arms, purring softly as she tucks her head against my chest and breathes in my scent. “What’s not right. How can I help?”

“The bed.” She huffs, gesturing to it sullenly. “It’s not cozy enough. Your pillows are terrible, and none of the blankets are soft enough.”

as all the cravings and mood swings, and they’re also further proof of Ella’s true identity. I chuckle happily, and Ella stiffens. “Are you laughing at me? This has been

not at you.” I promise. “It’s

setting up a nursery?” She clarifies, her adorably brow furrowing in confusion, “but that shouldn’t come

worse by the bed rest, you’re stuck in this room with nowhere to go, it’s only natural that you want to make yourself as cozy a spot to welcome

wrong.” She complains, unbuttoning my shirt so she can nuzzle

instincts urging me to settle her. I deposit her on the bed, then move to the intercom by the bedroom door, sending my guards

then accept them back if they don’t fit the indescribable qualifications she’s seeking. I have no idea what’s going on in her mind, but I know enough to realize this isn’t a matter of logic. Her inner wolf is pushing her to satisfy a powerful craving that she probably doesn’t understand any more than

the bed is finally right she climbs in, preening with maternal pride and offering me a satisfied smile that makes me want to kiss her so

obviously contemplating this. She narrows

careful not to dislodge any of her carefully placed pillows. Right as I settle beside her, I accidentally knock one of the overstuffed poufs out of position, and a kittenish growl rises in her chest. That’s when

while I simply kiss Ella, elated that I’m finally able to be with her so freely. Every other time we’ve gotten carried away with affection, it’s filled me with guilt and distraction about our tenuous future. But now

her spine as she nibbles my ear. “You’ve shown such ferocity already, and you have so much love to give – you’ll truly be the perfect queen.” I exalt, loving the shy blush that colors her cheeks. “We’ll usher in a new era for the united packs, while we raise a

getting excited just talking about this. Still, she sighs, a familiar look of hesitance on her lovely features. “Don’t, we don’t know what the future holds

understanding her reluctance to get her hopes up. I know only too well how hard it is to let yourself dream

with.” Ella confides, “it’s part of why I wanted a child of my own. To be biologically connected – at least once. And I love

your genes.” I tease, sliding my hand down over her luscious behind. “They’re