Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

Once Sinclair returned and I was allowed off of bed rest, I finally got the opportunity to visit Hugo’s widow Aileen. At least, I thought I would have the chance – instead I was turned away from her door and told in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t accepting visitors. I’ve been back every day since, but this morning is the first time she’s allowed me inside.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask her gently, knowing better than to offer her empty apologies and condolences. “Anything at all?”

“You already are,” She answers wryly, looking up at me from her bed. “You know you, Dominic and Henry are the only ones who have come to see me? Not just to tell me how amazing Hugo was or say how much they pity me, but to find out how I’m doing because you truly care. And of the three of you, you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten the message to leave me alone.”

I shrug, not feeling the least bit sorry. “Sometimes we want to be left alone precisely when we shouldn’t be.” I frown, thinking about the other wolves in the palace – our fellow countrymen. “And don’t take the others’ absence personally. Everyone is caught up in their own worries with the war, and no one likes to be reminded of how quickly it can all be taken away… your grief makes it impossible to avoid.”

Aileen snorts, “you don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Would you rather I did? That I diminish the gravity of your loss for the sake of politeness?” I ask, hoping that I’m not miscalculating. My prayer is that a bit of reverse psychology will help Aileen come back to herself for the sake of her pup – who has been spending a great deal of time in the nursery since his mother disappeared into her grief.

“I still have my boy.” Aileen answers firmly, reminding herself of the very fact I came to press upon her

“And how is Davey doing?” I inquire pointedly, though I already know the answer. Sinclair and Henry have been spending any time they can with the poor pup – not that this amounts to much. The horrible reality is that none of us have the bandwidth to give the bereaved the attention they deserve, but the same is true of all the refugees. Doing our jobs as leaders means neglecting them in the present, so that we can ensure they have a future.

Aileen’s gaze drops to her lap, an expression of profound shame overtaking her features. “He’s devastated of course – he thought his father hung the moon. He’s the only thing keeping me going… if he wasn’t here I think…”

“Is he here?” I question gently, looking around the empty room.

away.” She confesses, tears welling in her eyes. “I kept our bond open, but only just. I didn’t want him

to see you like this.” I suggest, reaching for her hands and clasping them tightly. “Maybe he needs to see that you’re hurting just as badly as he is. Hugo isn’t the only one who hung the moon for

the other pups…” Aileen argues, “and the

“Come with me to visit the nursery,

on the far wall. She certainly looks more than a little worse for wear, with great dark circles under her

nods hesitantly, and together we walk down to the nursery. Isabel and Henry are waiting for us – another scheme I concocted in hopes Aileen might take comfort from people who have been through this and know how she feels. Of

tears streaming down his cheeks.” Mommy where have you been?!” He cries, his words muffled against her

break. When it does happen, she shatters before our very eyes, crashing to her knees and dragging the pup into her

trying to

and then Isabel and Henry come forward to lend their arms as

a pained expression on his handsome face

and thanking the stars for my unborn son. ‘This was

government is due to begin in only five minutes. Still, I wish we could stay longer – I wish we could do more for all of our people. As my mate leads me away, I lean into his warmth, “Please tell me you have good

fact, I do.” Sinclair reveals, kissing my hair. “Roger

I gasp, stopping in my tracks. ‘That’s

and encouraging me to keep walking. ‘The bastard is dead, but he told Damon the assassination was successful

us?” I inquire, my wolf howling with vengeful joy to know our enemy is no

and he believes I’m out of the way.

muse aloud, probing our

growl. “But yes, I believe we made the right decision