Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 138-Ella Shifts

Sinclair

I don’t remember much about my own experience shifting for the first time. I remember the blinding pain, the torment of having every bone in my body broken, every muscle torn to perform the strange alchemy of reshaping my into a wolf. I remember it feeling as though it lasted forever, the certainty that it would never end… that I was surely dying. I didn’t understand how anyone could survive such torment, but my Father was beside me every step of the way, holding me, comforting me and promising that it would be alright. I recall the rumble of his steady, reassuring voice more than anything else, but I never imagined how hard it must have been for him to watch me suffer thus.

Now I understand only too well. It’s worse with Ella, because all her senses are coming in at once – the entire world suddenly becoming to sharp, too bright, too loud.

And her agony is deeper, because in becoming her wolf she’s also losing our baby, the baby she waited and longed for over so many years. I’m devastated to know our son won’t survive, and I can feel his immense stress through our bond as Ella’s wolf emerges, but the worst part of all this is knowing I can’t fix it. I can’t protect either of them from the brutality of nature.

I would gladly take on Ella’s pain myself. I would gladly suffer so that she doesn’t have to… but I can’t, I can only be there for her and try to ease her distress. When the helicopter lands on the roof of the mansion, I carry Ella down to my room, struggling to hold onto her as her small form jerks and spasms with more strength than she would ever be able to manage normally. She’s still shivering with cold, and though her wolf is waking up, I’m worried that it may not be fast enough to save her fingers and toes.

– it’s your nest.” I tell her, unwrapping her from my coat to deposit

consumed by pain that she won’t know her own name anymore. She peeks through the darkened room, taking in her surroundings. With

I hadn’t waited so long to go in after her. I’d been trying to respect her wishes, to make her escape as safe as possible. Instead she ended

inconsolable weeping and whimpers of pain provide a tortuous soundtrack to my internal diatribe, and I return to the bedroom to find her writhing in discomfort under the blankets. When I try to lift her she resists, “N-no.” She cries, shoving my hands away. “I

what a mistake it was to offer her this comfort and then try

I know it’s for her own good. I can’t get her to be still long enough to undress her so I tear her clothes away and drag her into the bath. She goes in with

at me the only way she

noise alone will make

wish I could get some food into her to help provide her energy for what is yet to come, but I know it will be impossible. It’s probably for the best anyway, since her taste buds will be just as oversensitive