Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

I consider this for a moment. On one hand I’m very wary of any man who wants a partner they can

show off like a trophy – that was exactly what Mike did and I know it’s a from being truly valued or

respected. At the same tine, Sinclair isn’t talking about women the same way Mike used to. He doesn’t

want to show off his mate to make others feel jealous, or feel threatened if someone else glances her

way. What’s more, he associates envy with her intrinsic value, not a boost to his own ego or

masculinity.

“Now” Sinclair continues, a sharp edge in his voice now. “lf they were to disrespect her, to sniff around

her despite my claim, or set a single paw on her.” He growls wordlessly, sending shivers down my

spine. “Now that would be another matter entirely.”

I snort when I see the menacing expression on his face. “Sometimes I get caught up thinking shifters

are so far ahead of humans, and then you say things like that and I remember you’re just big furry

beasts wearing the guise of civility.”

Sinclair chuckles. “We all have our contradictions.”

“l don’t.”I argue, notching my chin up defiantly.

“l beg to differ.” Sinclair replies warmly, his fingers dancing over my bare skin in increasingly sensuous

patterns. “You’re the fiercest little ball of mischief I’ve ever encountered, but you’re also the sweetest

thing l’ve ever seen,” He purrs, “or held..” His l!ps drop to my neck, just barely grazing them across my

skin. “or tasted.”

“Hey, none of that.” I object, pushing his head away.

“l don’t need you getting me all worked up right before I go strip n*ked in front of a hundred strangers.” I

admonish, my voice trailing off as the reality of the event ahead of us sets in.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Sinclair promises. “Besides, all anyone’s going to be doing is trying to figure out if

you’re showing yet. This is a royal baby, remember.” He says, tapping a finger on my belly button.

“Well they’re going to be disappointed.” I sigh, though in truth it’s been a few days since I stood in front

of the mirror and glared at my middle, willing it to show signs of the life growing within.

“Are you sure about that?” Sinclair arches a brow. “

This feels like a baby bump to me.”

I promptly push up onto my elbows so that I can look down at my stomach, even though sitting up puts

my neck dangerously close to Sinclair’s mouth again. I can almost feel him thinking about stealing

more k!sses while I’m distracted. Ever since we admitted that we’re attracted to each other, he’s been

more forward about showing me affection, which only makes it more difficult to resist my feelings. If

only I didn’t enjoy his touch so much, maybe then I could be more forceful about rebuffing his

advances.

His oversized hand is sprawled over my tummy, keeping my shirt bunched up beneath my bre-asts. It’s

hard to see anything with his palm in the way, so he traces the outline of my womb with a feather light

touch.

Sure enough I’m surprised to see the smallest of swellings just north of my pelvis. I suppose part of

shifters’ short gestation is seeing these changes much sooner than expected, but that scares me too.

What if my body doesn’t have enough time to adjust, to go through all the changes human mothers

spend nine months manifesting.

I think Sinclair can sense my unease, because the next thing I know he’s k!ssing my belly – once,

twice, three times.

“I said no k!sses.” I scold him, earning myself a low rumble in Sinclair’s chest, and his green eyes

flashing at my challenge.

“I’m k!ssing the baby.” He insists, a devious, wolfish grin on his face. “He likes it.”

“Oh sure.” I reply tartly, “blame it on the baby.”

“He does.” Sinclair repeats, k!ssing me again before slyly adding, “But then he likes it because it makes

you happy.”

“You’re incorrigible.” I roll my eyes, but I’m blushing too. And more than that, l’m amazed to think the

tiny life growing inside me knows what l’m feeling this way. It didn’t seem strange when the doctors told

me he could sense my stress, but I suppose I attributed that to him being impacted by the physical

symptoms of stress, not truly feeling my emotions.

My heart both swells and tightens in my chest as I contemplate this idea, that we have a bond every bit

as strong as Sinclair’s, I just can’t feel it.

Suddenly I’m crying, and Sinclair stops his teasing and crawls back up my body, clucking

sympathetically.”

What is it sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I’m just being silly.” I hiccup, shaking my head. “It’s h0rmones, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you tell me, and then we can decide together if it’s silly” He replies, brushing the pads of his

thumbs over my cheeks, caressing the tears away.

“l just wish I had a connection to him like you do”I confess. “I wish I could sense what he’s feeling. I

want you to be close with him, of course. I’m just.. jealous, I suppose. You’ll always be the better

parent, you’ll always know what he needs without asking, and I’ll be bumbling around blind in

comparison.”

“That’s not silly at all.” Sinclair assures me. “It’s only natural that you should feel that way. But you’re

wrong about something, Ella. You’ll have a bond with the baby every bit as strong as mine by the time

you bring him into the world.

Mothers have connections to their babies most fathers – even shifter fathers – can never have,

because we don’t carry and deliver them. We can’t nourish them with our own bodies, we’re not the

ones who sheltered and protected them in the first and most vulnerable months of their existence.”

“You promise it will be as strong as yours?” l ask, sniffling.

“I think you’re focusing on the idea of a bond too much.” Sinclair muses. “You have to remember that a

connection isn’t the same as a relationship, Ella. All parents are bonded with their children, but some

still have terrible relationships, just like everyone is bonded to their lover, but some couples are much

happier than others.”

“I think it’s difficult because it’s just such an abstract idea.” I share, already feeling less blue. “I mean,

you tell me something is magic and I’m automatically going to assume it’s more powerful than natural

things.”

“But magic is part of nature.” Sinclair corrects me. “

The Goddess created all of it at the same time. The difference is simply that you didn’t know about it.”

“Right.” I nod slowly, telling myself to keep this reminder at the forefront of my thoughts.

“Better?” Sinclair prompts, stroking my hair.

“Yes, thank you for making me talk about it.” I profess, feeling a strong urge to hug the big Alpha.

“Always.” He agrees, “Now get ready, we have some moon bathing to do.”

My eyes go wide. “Wait, I spoke too soon, I’m not better at all, I think I need to stay home and process

this.

Sinclair chuckles, “nice try, trouble. We leave in half an hour.” He leans down and k!sses the tip of my

nose before sliding from the bed, leaving me with a low purr. “

And I, for one, can’t wait.”