Accidental Surrogate

Sinclair whips his face up to mine, relief in every line of it. “It’s fine,” he says, his body shaking with his unused adrenaline, “he’s…he’s here…he’s still asleep…”

A sob breaks from my throat as I press my eyes closed and sink to the floor, still clutching the door frame, unable to stop the tremors that run through my body. The past minute – the past thirty seconds, even – were some of the most horrible of my life

The idea the bare idea that someone had come for my baby – my brand–new child, who I love so much, who I worked so hard to bring into this world –

I’m sobbing freely now, unable to catch my breath, panic overtaking me at the thought. I lean my head against the wood, pressing my face against it, unable to contain myself – to even think

to do anything but cry my heart out in fear, and panic, and grief and, relief at what I thought happened – but actually didn’t happen at all

I barely feel Sinclair as he crouches next to me, his hand warm on my back, and it’s only when I hear Rafe’s little mew of unhappiness that I snap my face towards him. Sinclair is kneeling next to me, tears streaking down his own face, holding my baby out towards me – Rafe so small and precious that he almost fits in his father’s huge hand.

Desperate, I grab for Rafe, needing the corporeal reality of him against me. I cry harder then, but am able to take deep breaths as I hold my baby in my arms, pressing him against my chest, and running a shaking hand over his hair. He’s crying a little now too, his sleep interrupted –

“You” I say, my voice trembling as I look up at Sinclair, “you sh–shouldn’t have – woken – him up – ”

Sinclair shakes his head at me, his own lip trembling as he works to hold himself together. ” You needed him more than he needed the sleep – we need him

Sinclair lowers himself fully to the floor then, drawing me and the baby into his lap, wrapping his arms around us. I can feel his breath deepening behind me as I stare down at my child, shushing him, helping him to fall back asleep. It’s a long time before he does, but when he finally does, I take a deep breath and look back up at my mate.

“What are we going to do?” I ask, bewildered, desperate.

“What we were always going to do,” Sinclair answers, his voice iron. “Protect our family.” He meets my eyes then, his green gaze glowing with ferocity. “No one will touch our son, Ella,” he promises. “You have my word on that. I’ll die before I let anyone touch him.”

Slowly, I nod, believing every word.

Then, new resolve building in me, I take a deep breath and lift myself off of Sinclair’s lap,

on shaky legs.

the note?” I ask, surprised by the

fist which I think he’s probably had clenched since he folded the note the first time.

around the room. “Do we have enough

then, Ella?” he says seriously. “None of us leave this

bassinet, moving slowly and deliberately. When I get there, I calmly lay my baby

whoever

me, I’ll admit it. But

taken on the wrong

the most precious thing to me in

in the world,

And me?

the wrath of a goddess, if they ever want

baby

the house is swarming with

bassinet, the basket pulled close to me, not letting anyone near us. My wolf inside me has her hackles raised, eyeing every person who passes the door to the

to me, it’s him

him I know it

didn’t you

her, my teeth clenched, telling myself that Sinclar

he wouldn’t let anyone in this house unless he had secured

our doorstep. How good could his security have been? Or, even if his security is

nod, my wolf’s anxiety feeding my own. Was it someone we knew, someone leaving the party? Was it a friend, someone we hold dear?