Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Sinclair

I sigh, sitting down on the bed next to my mate, giving her a significant look as I humor her. She grabs her phone, eagerly pulling up the clock timer and never taking her other hand off her stomach.

“Okay,” she murmurs, looking down at herself. “Well, this contraction has been over for a little bit,” she looks up at me. “Should we just wait for the next one to start the timer and time between that one and the next?”

I breathe out in a huff, closing my eyes and working very hard to control my anxiety and be patient. “Just start the clock and add two minutes to the time, Ella,” I beg. “Please.”

“Okay,” she says. Then I feel her hand on my cheek and I open my eyes to look down into her sweet, excited face. “It’s going to be okay, Dominic. You heard Hank. I’m strong – there’s no reason to rush off to the hospital yet.”

“There’s no reason not to,” I retort, giving her an even stare. But my little mate just wiggles herself closer to me, pressing herself warm against my side. I lower my head to her hair, my heart still beating fast with anxiety and anticipation, and take a deep breath of her warm scent. She’s right, at least a little – there’s no harm in waiting just a few minutes. As I work on my patience, I hear Ella clicking away on her phone.

“Okay,” she chirps. “I texted Cora she’s up, she says she’ll meet us there when we’re ready. But she says to text her the time between contractions when we’ve got it. She also says it could be false labor,” Ella notes, looking up at me with an interested expression. “Since it’s so early. So, we might be panicking for nothing.”

I murmur something back – I honestly don’t know what and wrap my arm around her, concentrating on being steady next to her, where she needs me. Ella is excited, but deep down I know that she’s anxious as well – how could she not be? Throughout this nightmare of a pregnancy, something’s gone wrong at every turn. I know that, like me, she’s on pins and needles, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The next few minutes are torture for me. Every instinct in me tells me to get up and move, to prepare, to do something. I could go start the car, have it ready and pointed out to the street so that we can go the moment she’s ready. I could double–check this hospital bag, although Ella’s packed and re–packed it twelve times. I could go rip that ridiculous stairlift right out of the wall, now that we don’t need it anymore,…

That, at least, would give me some satisfaction and burn off some of this anxious energy….

But, despite that impulse, I stay right here by my mate’s side, where she needs me. There’s no place else I’d dare to be.

“Ohhh,” Ella says suddenly, her hand sliding low on her belly as she closes her eyes tightly.” Okay,” she breathes. “I think this is…another one.”

bed next to her. Eight minutes. “Ella,” I snip, “your contractions are only

she says, frowning at the phone. “How is that possible, they just started –”

low with warning and anxiety

think it’s too early but oohhhh,” she winces,

close and taking her hand.

“Ow, I didn’t think it would hurt this bad so

arms, my heart pounding. I head for the door but she stops me,

hall, eagerly headed for the stairs. As I begin down them, though, Ella gives a sharp gasp and convulses in my arms, freeze, holding

until she opens her eyes and looks shocked into my face and then down at her belly, her face

“Put me down.

Ella

arms as Sinclair jolts back into action, hurrying to the bottom of the stairs where he can put me down. I feel a sudden

all I can think of is the blood that I saw all over me on

What if –

something go horribly

me. He places me down steadily on my feet and I look down at myself, trying as best I can in the darkness

my hand down my

on the hall switch. Frantic,

on my hand, but it’s clear. I give a frantic little laugh as I stare at my hand and then down