Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Chapter 131 – Ella Dreams of Sinclair

Ella

Sleep! I beg my manic wolf. You have to keep your strength up! We need sleep! I can’t rest when there’s danger. She argues stubbornly, and though I’m frustrated, I understand. I’m so exhausted with fear, anxiety, and pregnancy that I’m barely hanging onto my sanity by a thread, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I need to keep my wits about me.I haven’t heard anything since the Prince visited my rooms. The servants brought me food and fresh linens, but I didn’t trust them enough to actually eat, and as comfortable as the bed looks, it’s a far cry from my beloved nest. I don’t feel safe here, so how am I ever supposed to let my guard down enough to rest?

If only I could talk to Dominic, to know that he’s alright and warn him about what I learned. As soon as the thought enters my mind, I realize what a fool I’ve been. There is a way! Of course there is!

I pull one of the blankets off the bed, scanning the room. I’ve circled the space about two dozen times already, memorizing every nook and cranny. Three guards are posted outside my door, and two more are posted on the ground below my third story window. In the end I clamber into the large wardrobe, needing to be hidden from sight – to feel walls around me even if they aren’t truly strong enough to ward off an attack.

I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable and calm my wolf. My mind is still reeling, but the knowledge that I could soon be lost in a dream with my mate gives me the determination I need. When I open my eyes again, I’m in the same moonkissed forest I’ve visited in our other dream dates, and I pray that Sinclair has the sense to sleep too.

It happens slowly.

The more time that passes, the more I fear he’s too frantic to rest, but after what feels like hours, I feel the air around me change, sparking with sudden electricity. I know he’s here before I hear his voice, but it doesn’t make the sound of his deep bass any less beautiful. “Ella!” Footsteps are racing towards me, and then I’m out of the bed in the trees, sprinting towards the sound of his voice.

When I see him I feel as though time itself slows down. My vision blurs with tears, and I’m crying out for him too, “Dominic!”

far away. We’re both wearing the same curious clothing that always

lock around my body, clutching me so tightly I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I want him to hold me even tighter, and so I cling to him with all my strength, wrapping my legs around his waist and burying my face in his neck. His scent fills my senses, and I’m crying

and petting me, murmuring sweet nonsense as he trails his lips over my skin. “Ella, my Ella. I’ve been so worried.” I can only whimper in reply, running my hands through his hair and hoping he can feel my love as powerfully as I can feel his. “Such a clever mate, to think of our dreams! So perfect, so sweet.” He drops to his

squeeze him tighter, but his inner caretaker has claimed full control and he drags my body away from him with utmost ease. “Let me see, let me look

temple where the wolves knocked me out, and the blooming blue shadow on my cheekbone from Lydia’s slap. His wolf whines as if my pain is his own, and Sinclair studies and fusses over each mark, dotting them with kisses and

and dragging his palm to my belly. He lets me guide his movement,

focuses on the pulses of energy through his bond with our son, nibbling the spot on my shoulder where he claimed me the last time we

news, but it’s still an incredible relief. I’d been terrified that he might have been injured in the crash. ‘There,” Sinclair croons, stroking my tummy

my night dress, apparently determined to examine every inch of my body for injuries because he can focus on anything else. He growls every time I try to object or push him away, running

in from outdoors, albeit a very growly and affectionate one. Of course, I would ever voice such a comparison to Sinclair. He won’t be satisfied until he’s checked me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, switching back and forth

lap

at you, too. It’s my turn!” I complain anxiously, trying to wriggle enough to reach the buttons on his shirt. He huffs but eventually allows it, and I strip him the same way he stripped me, a fresh stab of pain slicing into me with every new scar and

despite

killed Gabriel and the others just for trying

of anger directed towards me.” They were always going to kill them, that’s