Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Sinclair

I decide to work from home for the rest of the day.

I’m so amazed by everything that’s happening, and overwhelmed by how much our lives have changed in the last 48 hours. Two days ago I was grieving the relationship I believed was impossible, wishing against all logic that Ella could be a wolf. Now all our dreams have come true, yet I feel reluctant to trust these changes. It’s all too wonderful, even if mysterious forces have clearly been at work – pulling the strings of our lives from far away.

I hate the idea that someone has been watching and manipulating us from afar – even if it is the Goddess. Still, the Goddess isn’t what frightens me most. The thing that frightens me most is knowing that someone out there knows the truth about Ella, they know secrets she and I have yet to uncover, and might use them against us. True, it seems that bringing us together was for our benefit, but the picture is never clear until it’s complete. Shifters in this city know exactly how vulnerable Ella is right now, and we can’t wake her wolf for another three and a half months, at least.

Around seven I realize that I’m not going to get any more work done this evening. Instead I head upstairs to my bedroom, expecting to find my sweet mate resting before dinner. Instead, I walk in to find Ella out of bed and pacing, overflowing with anxious energy. The second thing I notice is that every pillow, blanket and cushion in the linen closet has been piled onto the bed, and the canopy curtains drawn closed.

Ella stops in her tracks when she sees me, wringing her hands. “Baby, what is it?” I ask, crossing over to her. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not right. I’ve been trying to fix it but I can’t… it’s not right.”

I pull her into my arms, purring softly as she tucks her head against my chest and breathes in my scent. “What’s not right. How can I help?”

“The bed.” She huffs, gesturing to it sullenly. “It’s not cozy enough. Your pillows are terrible, and none of the blankets are soft enough.”

but slowly it clicks into place. How many times have I heard about other fathers coping with a mate in this exact state? These instincts are as powerful as all the cravings and mood

trouble, not at you.” I promise. “It’s just that

a nursery?” She clarifies, her adorably brow furrowing in confusion, “but that shouldn’t come until later, and we’ve already picked

are just more of your maternal instincts coming out.” I explain. “It’s probably made worse by the bed rest, you’re stuck in this room with nowhere to go,

that I can’t because your dumb bed is giant and everything is wrong.” She complains, unbuttoning my shirt so she

to settle her. I deposit her

creates her nest. I hand her pillows and blankets, then accept them back if they don’t fit the indescribable qualifications she’s seeking. I have no idea what’s going on in her mind, but I know enough to realize this isn’t a matter of logic. Her inner wolf is pushing her to

maternal pride and offering me a satisfied smile that makes me

narrows her eyes, “As long as you don’t mess

of her carefully placed pillows. Right as I settle beside her, I accidentally knock one of the overstuffed poufs out of position, and a kittenish growl rises in her chest. That’s when I snatch her up, replacing the offended cushion as I pull her

able to be with her so freely. Every other time we’ve gotten carried away with affection, it’s filled me

as she nibbles my ear. “You’ve shown such ferocity already, and you have so much love to give – you’ll truly be the perfect queen.” I exalt,

familiar look of hesitance on her lovely features.

if you can get them?” I guess, understanding her reluctance to get her hopes up. I know only too

the first person in my life who I’ll experience that with.” Ella confides, “it’s part of why I wanted a child of my own. To be biologically connected – at least once. And I love being pregnant… but I don’t need all

my babies to all have your genes.” I tease, sliding my hand down over her luscious behind. “They’re damned