Accidental Surrogate

#Chapter 174— Ella Apologizes

Ella

After my snack, I meet with the chefs to talk about menus for the summit, then ask to have dinner sent up to my rooms.I’m feeling too pensive and tired to be social tonight.

I’m still reeling from discovering how badly I handled my troubles with Sinclair, and I’m both dreading and eager to make amends.I know I won’t feel better until I do, but the prospect is more than a little daunting.I’m too much of a chicken to call him on the phone, and I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing right now anyway.So I decide to wait for our dreams, where I’ll be able to feel his touch and let my wolf take over if things get too hard.I know Sinclair probably won't be asleep for hours, but it was a long, emotionally draining day.

So as much as I want to put off our meeting I take a quick shower and climb into my nest.

It smells like Sinclair, and that blessed comfort is enough to whisk me off into my dreams.

When I arrive in the dream forest I have nothing but time to kill, and I spend it thinking about what I want to say to Sinclair when he appears.

Of course, the more I think about my mistakes, the worse I feel, and soon I’m fighting the urge to cry.

When my mate finally takes shape in the distant trees, I feel a deep pang in my chest.I can’t bring myself to look at him.I kneel at the foot of the bed, my hands resting on either side of my belly as I stare at my lap.I can perfectly picture his handsome face, rugged lines and bronze skin practically glowing in the light of the moon, his blazing wolf eyes piercing me through the darkness.

"Hello trouble."

Sinclair’s deep voice wraps around me like a warm embrace, and I can see his black-clad legs just in front of me.

Strong fingers catch my chin, and then he’s tilting my face up to his.He searches my features with lethal intensity, and his voice is husky when he speaks.

"What, no smile?" He asks, running his thumb over my lower lip, his longer fingers splayed across my cheek and delving into my hair.

"If I didn’t know any better I'd think you weren’t happy to see me."

I can feel his wolf prodding at our bond, trying to tempt my own inner animal to rise to the surface.

"What is it, little wolf? Talk to me."

"I owe you an apology." I admit, wide eyed and trying to stop my voice from quavering.

"Already?" He inquires, the corner of his lip twitching upward.

"I’ve only been gone a day, how much mischief could you possibly have made? Other than skipping lunch of course."My jaw drops, and in my surprise and outrage, I forget some of my shyness.

"He actually told you?! That rat!" Sinclair chuckles, stroking my hair back from my face.

"You missed our bedtime call, so I checked with Roger. He explained that you’d had along day and probably went to bed early."

A new stab of guilt assails me.

"I forgot."

in my hands, "I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.I just didn’t get a chance to nap and I was sleepy and the nest smelled like you

hands away from my face,

"Baby, it’s okay."

I insist, furious with myself

for me and every time you need

know Sinclair is warning me to stop this,

forge on, my voice thick, "I’ve

got the whole world on your plate and you were still thinking of me every step of the way — figuring out

you a hard time for being stressed and then run away when things got

storm, watching me with the bearing of a wolf about to pounce, his

when you tried I refused to listen because I didn’t like what you were saying.I wasted our time together and whined and complained — and even now I can tell

this over because I’m breeding or new to being a wolf! Yell at me, or

emotions swirling out of control.I’m prepared for the

crosses his arms over his

to speak to me, but then he

taken aback by his

"Why?"

arches a menacing brow, one which has

need to tap into our bond to feel

in charge here,

at the pure dominance in

and maybe for the first time, I

with the reality of exactly how much magic courses through his veins, the reason why all the other wolves

understood that he’s clever and kind, but before now I never quite realized how much

also astounded to realize how much control he must employ every second of every day in order

challenged him, but now I have no option

I

showing

who decides how I feel? Who gets to choose

the desperation to cease the

her back, belly up with her tail between her legs, but still Sinclair does not relent.His clenched jaw twitches

who gets to tell me how to deal

technically your wo—- no

off my defiant response when Sinclair unleashes yet another wall of power, disproving my

"That's right, little wolf."

finally uncrossing his arms so he

"On all counts."

I shiver in his

may be feeling guilty, and if you ask me nicely, I can help you work through those feelings.But you do not get to tell me how to

"I'm sorry." I sniffle.