Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 167 – Going to Bed Angry

Ella

After dinner with Cora, I visit the Palace library, searching for any excuse to avoid Sinclair as I continue to work through my feelings. My sister’s troubles with Roger offered some distraction, but I’m not sure a distraction is what I needed. My anger and frustration with my mate hasn’t lessened at all, and I haven’t had the chance to think about our conversation in any depth.

I browse the bookshelves absentmindedly, more caught up in my head than actually paying attention to the available selection. Eventually I spy a Vanaran history book on the top shelf, and my curiosity is piqued. I’d love to learn more about this mysterious territory, but it’s very high up and there’s not a ladder anywhere in sight. If my mate were here he wouldn’t have any problem reaching it for me, but he’s not here.

And he’s not going to be. My wolf pouts, He’s leaving, and we’re going to have to get used to doing things on our own again.

Part of me is ashamed I’ve become so reliant on a man when I spent my whole life taking care of myself and others, and suddenly it feels ridiculous that I should seek out another to solve this problem. Licking my lips, I take a quick visual measurement of the shelves, and look around the room for a chair to stand on.

Finding a plush armchair, I pull it over to the bookshelf and clamber up onto my knees on the cushioned seat. Making sure I’m steady, I slowly get my feet under me, but unfortunately this doesn’t make me tall enough to reach the top shelf. Testing one foot on the arm of the chair, I determine that it won’t topple under my weight. Stretching as far as I can, my fingertips only graze the spine of the book, and I huff in frustration.

Keeping one foot on the arm of the chair, I balance the other on one of the shelves, pushing myself up to grasp the book. Just before my fingers close around the old leatherback, a thundering voice shatters the silence.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Dominic demands, his disapproval slamming into me full force.

cradle my belly as I fall. I see a whir of motion

I’m squirming beneath the weight of his scalding temper. “Is that really what you want to say to me right now?” He inquires ominously, looking me

wriggle out of his arms. However as soon as I begin trying to

could have simply lost your balance. You risked yourself and the pup.” He lectures, carrying me back towards

me, not for my own sake, but for my baby’s. The last thing I ever wanted was to risk Rafe. I rub my belly, trying to sense his mood. I feel pulses of uncertainty, but not due to any harm I’ve inflicted. He’s simply responding

a clear note of suspicion in his growl. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you weren’t trying to get back at me for

I scoff, finding the mere suggestion preposterous, even

me, maybe this was your

point, but that wasn’t what happened and Sinclair will know if I lie. “I didn’t even know you were there.” I remind him sulkily, “And not everything is about you, Dominic.” I add spitefully, trying to drown out the swell of tangled emotions rising up inside of me. I feel like I’m all over

hormonal I am in this moment, my brain veers away from irritation, moving to regret and guilt from the knowledge Sinclair is displeased with my behavior. Is there a worse feeling

through our bond until Sinclair’s wolf replies. How do you think I feel? His arms tighten reflexively on my body. But there is a

him, especially when he lets me feel how distressed he’s been by my own unhappiness. My guilt increases, and suddenly tears are burning in my eyes. I feel so overwhelmed and I’m not sure how to put my feelings into words. I also don’t want snatches of chaotic emotion to reach him through the bond in case they send the wrong message, so I pull the mental wall

from him. Still, he doesn’t complain and when we finally reach our

about it.” I sniffle, wallowing in self-pity. “I

area, settling on the couch and arranging me in his lap. “We’re not going to bed angry, little

angry with you.” I share petulantly, knowing how childish I sound and not caring. “It’s your fault that I’ve become so needy and dependent. I used to do everything for myself, and