Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Sinclair

When I reach the address Cora supplied, it’s all I can do to keep my temper in check. She hadn’t explained what happened, only that she and Ella needed to be picked up from a nightclub. I was able to stay calm while I got the details from her, but I found my anger growing exponentially the closer I drew to my disobedient little human. After everything that happened when she snuck out to see my father, I can’t believe she defied me again. However as soon as I round the corner of the alley behind the venue, my fury evaporates.

I’m not even sure of what I’m seeing at first. Roger is standing near the back door, naked, disheveled and bruised. The scent of strange wolves reeks to high heaven, and blood is splattered over the ground leading away from the club, along with numerous large pawprints. Cora is standing between me and Ella, her taller frame shielding my pup’s mother from view. She looks unharmed but a bit shaken, dressed in a tight red frock.

Roger stiffens at the sight of me, and Cora turns to face me, finally revealing Ella. Her arms are wrapped around her body, and she’s wearing a glittery black mini dress and heels. She’s staring at the ground, her energy agitated and withdrawn at once. There’s a huge black and blue bruise on her high cheekbone, and a cut on her lip, dried blood congealed around the wound.

I rush forward, surprised when Cora intercepts me, a pleading expression on her face. “Please be gentle – she’s in shock.”

I immediately skirt around her, reaching for Ella. Roger and Cora both raise their hands to stop me, “No!” It’s as if they think my touch might frighten Ella, but as soon as our bodies connect the tension seeps out of Ella like a dam bursting. She comes to me instinctively, letting me gather her to my chest and nestling close to my body. Her small hands cling to my shirt as her nose presses to my chest, breathing in my scent.

Roger and Cora look on with confusion, and I wonder if Ella had been afraid of their touch. The obvious implications of why she would feel that way pour over me, and I hold her tighter. “What happened?” I ask, glaring at Roger. If it weren’t for Ella’s obvious need of comfort, I might have already attacked him. Seeing any man this close to her when she’s injured was a violent trigger.

“Rogues.” Roger answers simply. “I caught their scent near my house and followed them. When I arrived they had Ella cornered. They were talking about…” He trails off, glancing nervously at the woman in my arms. “They were sent to kill her, but they obviously wanted to have a bit of fun with her first.”

hurt Ella, the way she trembles at Roger’s description, or the fact that he brought up their intentions in front of her. Ella burrows closer to me, and I wrap my coat around her shivering body, buttoning it around the small of her

ragged huskiness of my voice. My wolf is going berserk in my head, and I want nothing more than to hunt down the men responsible and rip them to shreds. “Did they touch you?” I demand, stroking her hair. She shakes her head against my chest, and I catch the sound of a hiccup – as if she’s holding back sobs. She still won’t look at me, and

wouldn’t really talk about it. She just kept saying she’s fine and she wanted to go home.” I can picture it as if

frowns, continuing. “I don’t even know how they found her. We were inside dancing and then… I don’t know,

thanks.” I hate saying these words, and I find all of these circumstances incredibly suspicious. Cora has hit the nail on the head, and the red flags are only compounded by the fact that my brother managed to find Ella just in time to leap to her rescue. Still, I don’t want to let

leave Ella, but eventually she departs with Roger, giving me another imploring look as they walk away. If I had to guess I’d presume she’s asking

against my shoulder, still as quiet as a

on the counter, I rummage through the cabinets for a first aid kit. Ella leans back against the mirror, her face devoid of all emotion.

my hands, I tilt her head from right to left, studying her injuries and trying to stay calm. The bruise on her cheek is swelling quickly, it’s bright red center showing just how close the blow came to breaking her skin. The cut on her lip seems minor, but the amount of

as I continue working, determined to suffer through it without complaint. Of course, when I switch out the water for alcohol, she practically leaps off the counter, whimpering so pitifully my heart aches. “Shh

what happened?” I ask a little later, pressing a cloth wrapped ice pack to her cheek. She flinches, but replaces my hand with her own, keeping up the cool

as I strip

press my hand to her belly the pup seems perfectly well. It’s heartbeat is steady and strong, and though I sense earlier flashes of unease – no doubt caused by Jane’s fear –

the lack of emotion on her lovely face. “It was nothing. I went outside for some air. Then I heard movement in the alley and they appeared. I tried to go back in but