Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

I’m so focused on Sinclair, I don’t even see the car until it’s almost upon me.

I’m too stunned to move, not that there’s time to get out of the way. The only thing I can do it try to turn my body away from the vehicle, to shield my unborn child from the inevitable crash.

Time itself seems to slow down, and there’s a dull roaring in my ears. My thoughts fly by, and I’m amazed at the logical clarity I’m able to find in a single, split second. I tell myself to go limp, the impact won’t be as terrible if my body isn’t tense with fear. Isn’t that why drunk people often survive car accidents that would be fatal otherwise?

Unfortunately I don’t have time to unwind my tight muscles, as soon as I’ve had the thought a huge weight collides with my back, slamming into me with so much force the breath is knocked from my lungs. I’m spinning, twisting as the wall of iron surrounds me, forcing my feet off the ground. A deafening crash fills the air, though it seems delayed. Haven’t I already been hit?

Then I’m being thrust forward, or is it backwards? I’m moving, flying through the air and yet my limbs are completely constrained. My eyes are clenched shut, and the sound of wrending metal and shattering glass explodes around me. It’s all so sudden, I don’t have time to be afraid, to say prayers for my baby, if not for myself.

I wait for the pain, but it doesn’t come. After a few moments of holding my breath I realize I’m not moving anymore. Am I dead? Was it so sudden that I didn’t feel it?

I peek open one eye, and sunlight blinds me. Is there a sun in the afterlife? I know shifters have a version of heaven, but I didn’t imagine humans got to go there.

There’s a click, like a car door opening, and then the sound of racing footsteps. “Catch them!” Sinclair’s deep voice snarls, so loud that I think he must be yelling in my ear.

I so warm? I wonder belatedly, imagining myself sprawled over the hood of a vehicle, in too much shock to feel the impact on my broken body. Shouldn’t a

eye, anxious to see him. Instead I see the empty street in front of me.

truly looking around for the first time. We’re sitting on the hood of the car – at least what used to be the hood. Sinclair’s huge body has completely totaled the vehicle. Slowly – infuriatingly slowly, my brain pieces together what must have happened. Sinclair had been fast enough to reach me,

the crumpled metal surface, my knees giving out as soon as my feet hit the ground. I vomit into the pristine white snow, feeling Sinclair follow me at a pace much too slow for his supernatural strength. I’m afraid to look at him, but he’s hovering beside me, surreptitiously running his hands over my body, searching for signs of injury yet trying not to disturb . “Stop.” I choke, “I’m alright… it’s you –” I finally turn to face him, horror and guilt washing over

can walk away from such an accident unharmed. His handsome face is a tight grimace of pain, but I’m not sure he’s even registering the sensations. His attention is

shirt has been torn to shreds by glass from the windshield, and

the distance. I follow the sound with my eyes, catching our chauffeur wrestling the homicidal driver to the ground a few meters down the road. He must have tried to make a run for it when the car stalled, unable to

concern for myself and the baby, I even forget my worry for Dominic. I feel only a flood of vengeful fury, more violent and feral than any I’ve known before. That rogue hurt Sinclair. He wanted to end my baby’s life and would have taken mine in the process, but he actually did hurt Sinclair. He might have taken my baby’s father

I snarl, pushing myself up on shaky

me around the waist, pulling me back. “Woah Ella, come here,

to kill him!” I insist, not

but right now you’re more important.” Sinclair murmurs in my ear. I can

cry, tears spilling from my overflowing lashes. “He hurt you! Let me go so I can

sound keeps stuttering in his chest, as if the internal engine that fuels his rumbles and growls has been damaged. “I know little one, we’ll make him pay, just take it

fighting, turning to face him once he returns my feet to the ground. “You’re all bloody.” I observe pitifully,

the stubborn man has his palm pressed to my belly, his eyes scouring me for the hundredth time. “The baby’s okay.” He sighs, “but I need