Accidental Surrogate

Ella

In the darkness of the back room, Regina instructs us to strip down to our skins and then hands us two rough robes that we pull over our heads, hardly more than bleached potato sacks with cowl necks and long sleeves.

“Is this part of the ceremony?” I ask, curious and disliking the feel of the fabric on my skin. Honestly, given my choices I’d rather wear the leggings and simple shirt that I arrived in.

“No,” Regina answers, looking at me evenly, not a hint of emotion on her face. “It will simply keep you cool in the heat of the desert. But your nakedness beneath,” she notes, letting her eyes travel down my small body beneath my robe, “that is to honor the goddess. When you perform the ceremony, you must be naked before the moon. You can bring nothing with you from your earthly life.”

I run my fingers lightly over the claiming mark between my neck and shoulder, suddenly glad that wolves don’t do wedding rings. I’m not sure I could leave this memory of my mate behind, even to lay myself bare before the Goddess. My fingers move again to my stomach, and I look down again to the swell of my child.

“Will it matter?” I ask, suddenly looking up at Regina. “That my child is a boy? Like, if there are no boys allowed on this trip

_་་

Regina smiles slightly, coming forward and laying a hand on my cheek. I stop mid–sentence, surprised to see her express any positive emotion at all.

“While he is within you, he is part of you, and part of the sacred cycle of womanhood. He will be safe, child, have no fear.” Her eyes crinkle a little as her smile deepens. “A boy, then? How wonderful. A blessing for the kingdom.”

I join her in smiling and give a little nod. A blessing indeed, though I admit I hadn’t really thought about his role in the kingdom. But if Sinclair did win this war, then he would be King, and his son…

Well. Questions for another day. My wolf yips within me, somehow sensing in a way that I do not our need to get moving.

“The sun is falling,” Regina declares, taking her hand from my face and walking towards another door on the far side of the room. “It is time to go.” With that, she opens the door wide, revealing the golden desert beyond. “Let us begin.”

each other a glance and then, together, head

to take on the nature of the sun, glowing and hot and alive. I look out over it admiringly, wondering if this is the sun putting on a last show before the moon takes its place as

head of the group. Regina is, technically, our leader, but I’m the one with the soul bond to the Goddess now, to my mother. I shake my head, still marveling over that fact. I had always wondered who my mother was and never, ever, had this possibility come into my mind. As we walk and the sun takes its final dip below

it make a difference in my son’s life, having a goddess

he, too,

And what were mine?

soon enough, but wanting them now now now so I can get out of this scratchy potato sack, away from this place, and back to Sinclair. My wolf gives a restless little stir inside of me, wanting to be with him, in his

warns, her

crest of a dune and that the desert is spread out below us. Night

murmurs, looking up at it. Cora and I follow her gaze. “The

bones and my stomach. Inside me, my wolf turns in a circle and curls up, alert but content. We have reached the place we’re supposed to be. I do a little turn, marveling out at the silvery desert spread around us, the shadows of the dunes

we are in an empty

her garment over her head in a single graceful movement and spreading it out on the ground. Then,

is where I need to be, and my wolf is calm inside

–

frown at her. How did she know what

sink to my knees on top of it. I place my hands on my thighs, sitting my butt back on my heels. Cora sits down next to me on her own bit of fabric, staring up at the moon, and I close my eyes, slowing my breathing. I’m not really someone who meditates – who

its basest state, trying to clear all my thoughts and

light begins to glow. I barely notice it, register it as strange, until it begins to pulse lightly and then spread. The growth is slow, just–a minute bit at a time, but, eventually, the purple

And then, I gasp.

shuddering warmth of my mother’s love. And it’s an incredible thing, because it’s a love for me, specifically, but also, somehow, a love for everyone. I am filled with it, with my mother’s ceaseless love, with the love of a mother for her child, with the dedication of