Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Ella

One and a half months later, and I’m gigantic.

Gigantic.

“Five months wolf pregnant,” I mutter, stirring my yogurt with a little silver spoon, “is about thirteen months human pregnant.” Leaning back against my pillows, I raise the spoon to my mouth, but hesitate before taking a bite.

“What?” Sinclair asks, glancing at me from his spot on the bed, where he’s reading some reports on his tablet. “Has it gone sour?”

“No,” I murmur, stabbing the spoon back into the cup. “I’m just afraid if I eat another bite, this baby is going to get even bigger.”

“Good!” Sinclair declares, grinning at my swollen belly and reaching out a fond hand to rub my baby bump. “Let him get big and strong before he’s born, that way he can come out running and we can play football within a week

“Absolutely not,” I snap, giving him a little glare and hoping to hell that he’s kidding. “I am not growing you a linebacker, Dominic, so get that right out of your head.”

Sinclair chuckles and puts his tablet aside, moving lower on the bed to press his ear to my. stomach just above where the baby has settled. “What’s that, little Rafe?” he asks, loud enough for me to hear. I twist my lips and shake my head a little, knowing this is all for my benefit anyway. If he wanted to talk to Rafe, he could just do it through his bond. “You’re perfectly comfortable in there and want to go to full term so you can get big and strong?” –

I feel the baby move, then, responding to his father’s voice, pressing some extremity – a hand or a foot – across my skin, right where Sinclair’s face is. Sinclair kisses the spot where the baby presses and I feel a little thrill of Rafe’s happiness running through me.

I say aloud, stroking the sides of my stomach, which looks honestly like I’ve swallowed a

ringing with happiness, but, indeed, with a little …pinched feeling, with the desire to stretch. “See?” I say, raising my eyebrow at Sinclair as he looks up at me with a big smile. “He’s sick of

“We’ll see what Cora and Hank say this afternoon at your checkup. Sometimes wolf babies come

ask, excited.

he shrugs. “It’s

goddess…he’ll come fast, and leave me in peace. I wonder what their average gestation

and putting out his hands to help me to my feet. I accept readily and head to the closet, eager to get out of my pajamas and head to

unhappy with how well the peace talks are going. They think that humans are getting the short end of the stick and are threatening violence unless Sinclair and his teams make more concessions. I know it’s stressing him, but he still makes a great deal of time for me in his day. I’m so grateful for

clean top and stretchy pants, I consider whether I complain too much about this final stretch of my pregnancy. It’s not that it’s not that I’m not enjoying being pregnant – I have loved every minute of feeling my little boy grow stronger inside of me, every little twist and kick, and especially feeling the little messages he sends down our bond to me. He’s gotten so communicative lately, really responding to us like

―

start, it’s very clear that he’s Sinclair’s baby now. He is heavy, and he presses on my back, and my ankles are swollen, and I can’t find a comfortable spot when I sleep – even

vacation where you start to think about how nice it will be to go back home. I sigh and lean down to pick out a pair of sneakers but stop, suddenly, when I realize that I can’t bend

peek out the door, Sinclair is looking towards the closet, his

big smile. “I need you to put

Cinderella,” he smirks, kneeling down on one knee and lifting one of my feet up like the prince he is. “Let’s see if the slipper

a private exam room. I look around the crowded waiting room, opening my mouth to protest that we shouldn’t be seen before all of these women who have been so patient, but Sinclair presses a hand to my back, ushering me forward. “I paid for this place, after all,” he murmurs, giving me a smile. “You can

our whole family. In exchange, though, they both requested that he set them up in private practice so that they can see refugee