Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

“Wait what?!” I exclaim, certain that I must be hearing things. Sinclair can’t have possibly just said what I think he did.

He smiles, tracing circles on the soft skin of my belly. “You heard me.” He teases.

“Completely naked?” I gape, blushing at the idea alone. “Everyone? Even the children?”

“I’ve told you, shifters don’t associate nudity with sex the way that humans do. It’s our natural state.” Sinclair explains gently. “No one feels self conscious, because there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I should have known something was up when he came in this afternoon and woke me from my nap, climbing into bed behind me and sliding his hand underneath the hem of my top so he could feel the baby. I’d whined at being disturbed, but cuddled closer to him anyway, stretching into his tender caresses like a sleepy kitten. Only once I was purring with contentment did he broach the subject he’d come to discuss.

The fourth night of the Solstice festival is apparently devoted to something called moonbathing. I’d hesitated over this idea when Aileen first showed me the schedule, but had been so distracted by the idea of the wild hunt and the masquerade ball that I hadn’t been able to focus on it. Now, however, I can’t focus on anything else. Sinclair has just explained that the moonbathing ritual involves stripping off one’s clothes and anointing our bodies with oil, then laying out in the full moon’s light. I’d been okay with this up until the point when Sinclair clarified that it would happen at a sacred stone circle – surrounded by other shifters.

“But… it’s also natural to be curious about other people’s bodies, doesn’t everyone stare? Doesn’t that bother you?” I squeak, thinking of all the times I’ve been uncomfortable beneath the male gaze when fully clothed, and not wanting to even imagine how much worse it would be naked.

“It doesn’t bother me to be studied or admired,” Sinclair shrugs, looking down at me intently. “But I can understand how that might be different if I was a human woman, and used to being looked at like an object. You have to realize that male wolves don’t disrespect she-wolves that way.”

“So when you were with Lydia, it didn’t bother you for your mate to be naked in front of other men?” I don’t think I would be so generous if the tables were turned, in fact I’m already thinking about all the she-wolves that will undoubtedly be checking out Sinclair and I do not like it.

“No shifter would be stupid enough to lay their eyes on the Alpha’s mate in the manner you’re thinking – not if they want to keep their heads connected to their bodies.” Sinclair assures me. “And if they’re envious, it’s no threat to me. In fact I enjoy having a partner others covet, it just goes to show I won the lottery, and reminds me to be the best mate I can, so that I’ll be worthy of her.”

I consider this for a moment. On one hand I’m very wary of any man who wants a partner they can show off like a trophy – that was exactly what Mike did and I know it’s a far cry from being truly valued or respected. At the same time, Sinclair isn’t talking about women the same way Mike used to. He doesn’t want to show off his mate to make others feel jealous, or feel threatened if someone else glances her way. What’s more, he associates envy with her intrinsic value, not a boost to his own ego or masculinity.

a sharp edge in his voice now. “If they were to disrespect her, to sniff around her despite my claim, or set a single paw on

thinking shifters are so far ahead of humans, and

chuckles. “We all have our

argue, notching my

fiercest little ball of mischief I’ve ever encountered, but you’re also the sweetest thing

don’t need you getting me all worked up right before I go strip naked in front of a hundred strangers.” I admonish, my

be doing is trying to figure out if you’re showing yet. This is a royal baby, remember.” He says, tapping a finger

it’s been a few days since I stood in front of the mirror and glared at my

arches a brow. “This

my neck dangerously close to Sinclair’s mouth again. I can almost feel him thinking about stealing more kisses while I’m distracted. Ever since we admitted that we’re attracted to each other, he’s been more forward about showing me affection,

traces the outline of my womb with a featherlight touch. Sure enough I’m surprised to see the smallest of swellings just north of my pelvis. I suppose part of shifters’ short gestation is seeing these changes much sooner than expected, but that scares me too. What if my body doesn’t have enough time to adjust, to go through all the changes

can sense my unease, because the next thing

earning myself a low rumble in Sinclair’s chest, and

the baby.” He insists, a devious, wolfish grin

I reply tartly, “blame it

slyly adding, “But

didn’t seem strange when the doctors told me he could sense my stress, but I suppose I attributed that to him being impacted by the physical symptoms of stress, not truly feeling my emotions. My heart both swells and tightens in my chest as I contemplate

crying, and Sinclair stops his teasing and crawls back up

just being silly.” I hiccup, shaking my head. “It’s hormones, that’s