Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

Sinclair’s face immediately closes off, “Baby we talked about this.” He rumbles, sounding unhappy but not angry.

“We started to,” I agree, remembering that last painful conversation. “And then the bomb went off and everything went crazy.”

“Ella, I know how badly you want to meet her. And I would love nothing more for us to be free to go searching right this minute – but it’s not the time. There’s too much going on.” Sinclair proclaims, repeating much of the same sentiments he had when we first discussed this matter.

“But this isn’t just about finding her because I want to meet her.” I correct him. “You told me yourself that after Xavier died, Queen Reina left Moon Valley and became a devotee of the Goddess. That can’t be a

coincidence.” I insist, silently begging him not to shut this possibility down without hearing me out first. “My mother met the Goddess, she spoke to her. Whatever they discussed, it had to have been far more substantive than the fairytale version the Goddess told me as a pup. Even if that’s all she knows – she still has answers we don’t.”

Sinclair doesn’t reply, but I can see the gears working in his head, his thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. Taking advantage of his contemplative mood, I forge ahead, “But what if that’s not all? What if she’s been serving the Goddess these last five years learning the secrets of my blood so she’ll be ready when I come? What if she knows how to get in direct contact with the Goddess, and can help me do the same? It’s obvious that the Goddess’s priests and devotees have powers and knowledge we don’t – far more than any elder council. If anyone can help us, surely it’s her.”

All of a sudden I feel a violent burst of defiance from Sinclair’s wolf, the beast lashing out against the man. It explodes through our bond in a vicious haze of passion and protectiveness, rage and refusal, determination and fear. Sinclair clamps his eyes shut with the effort of getting the animal under control, and his fingers dig into my hips with unexpected force. Understanding sinks in when he slowly drops his head back against the sofa, emitting a very soft, drawn out, “fuuucckk.”

My heart leaps in my chest. “I’m right, aren’t I?” I exclaim excitedly, bouncing a little in his lap. “I’m right?”

One moment I’m straddling his thighs with my swollen belly pressed flush to his abs, and the next I’m alone on the couch while my mate paces back and forth across the room, overflowing with feral energy. I watch him warily, feeling torn. I’m desperate to find my mother, but the last thing I want

I ask in a small voice, not sure

repeating my earlier question. “I swear, I could strangle the Goddess for doing this to us. If she wanted to create a mortal child she should have stayed with you and raised you and been a real fucking parent. She never should have torn you from

want to get up and go to him, but I can tell he needs his space at the moment. He needs to get all of his fury out into the open – especially if I want him to agree to this. Even so, I feel the strangest

bullshit. You could have been raised by Damon himself and still turned out the sweetest creature to ever

true.” I counter gently,

never,

looks anywhere but at me. I patiently wait, and he eventually concedes, his green eyes shining. I tilt my head to the side, letting him feel all my love through our bond. “You do know, that if she hadn’t done all that

body, and he lowers his forehead to mine. There’s still so much turmoil swirling through his consciousness, and the stubborn man doesn’t want to give in. “If the cost of giving you

a thing,” I continue with a scowl. “I am the woman I am today because of everything I survived and overcame. I’m not saying I like it, or that I wouldn’t spare myself of the pain if I could. But if

pout. “You’re more important.” I realize I’m talking to his wolf now, rather than the logical

all set in motion so that the God of Darkness’s schemes on earth wouldn’t result in the destruction of shifters and humans alike. You, more than anyone, believe the future of our world

me with newfound vigor, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Never

me. I hadn’t considered this particular bit of logic before, and though my brain wants to freak out in existential angst, I know I have to keep it together for my spiraling mate. “Don’t you prefer having me in the world and a bit scarred,