Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

#Chapter 162 - Approaching Sinclair

Ella

When we return to the palace I go straight upstairs to the office Sinclair has been using as his war

room. Of course, there was a war room in his mansion back home too, but that one had been for the

campaign, this one is only too literal.

When I walk into the tense space, I find my mate standing over a large diorama of the continent,a to-

scale model of the territories, terrain and cities of our homeland. Tiny figures are scattered throughout

the lifelike reproduction, forming armies, groups of civilians, rogues and refugees. A group of warriors

surround the table supporting the miniature world, listening as Hugo delivers the evenings brief.

"Our spies report that despite their alliances during the campaign, Damon's armies have now turned

against rogue forces in the neutral territories.

Apparently his conquest of the united packs is complete enough that he's able to turn his attention to

other threats, and he's not hesitating to do just that." Hugo explains. "Any resistance in the packs has

gone underground because of his severe crackdown, and more and more shifters are attempting to

escape. These are mostly those who have reason to fear the Prince due to their politics or status in the

pack, but others flee for no other reason than the loss of their homes and loved ones. The people

recognize that any future under Damon's rule is bound to be bleak, so they're leaving instead."

"I can't believe he’s done so much in so little time.” One of the warriors pipes up. I recognize the man

as Sinclair's third now that Gabriel is gone, but I can’t quite recall his name. Philip? Phelan? Phineas?

'To your point, Philippe, Damon has moved very quickly. He hasn't just gone after the Alpha council and

their betas, he's been taking out the elders in each pack as well, plus any wolves that might be strong

enough to make a claim for Alpha. He's eliminated any and all competition, created a power vacuum

everywhere but on the throne. It’s nothing new in terms of authoritarianism, but it's damned effective."

"Do we know if any of the elders have survived?" Sinclair inquires, his handsome face twisted into a

grimace.

"If they have then they're in hiding or attempting to escape." Hugo sighs." Essentially anyone who

might have helped us has gone radio silent out of fear of detection, and rightly so."

"So basically we’re on our own." Sinclair assesses gravely, "Even if we can dredge up some alliances

in Vanara, we’re likely going to be going in blind when we return home."

I feel a pang of deep sympathy for my mate, one I apparently sent through the bond, because no

sooner have I processed the feeling than Sinclair's head jerks towards the door, eyes searching. I

realize he was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t even realize we'd entered, and I try not to

feel a sting of hurt. How can I possibly blame him for being preoccupied with all this going on?

Hiding from me, trouble? His voice sounds in my head, and I immediately understand why he might

suspect this.

I'm standing behind Roger and Gabriel, completely blocked from view. There's also a fan directly

across from us, blowing our scents down the hall rather than allowing them to permeate the small

space. Of course not.

I reply, wishing I could go climb into his arms. We just got back.

Any doubt I'd felt about my place among Sinclair's priorities disappears when the meeting comes to a

stand still for our exchange, and the next thing I know his fierce gaze is ordering the men in front of me

to move so I might pass. I slip between them and try not to blush under the scrutiny of so many wolfish

eyes, melting into Sinclairs side as he tucks me under his arm. I feel calmer at once, filled with his

warmth and surrounded by his muscular embrace.

Only once Sinclair has turned my face up to kiss me senseless, does the meeting continue. I'm a bit

surprised that my overprotective mate is allowing me to be part of such a stressful and disturbing

briefing, but I'm also grateful. I need to know what's going on for my own peace of mind and so that I

can support my mate. It's right that I should be here.

I would be lying if I said the details I learned didn't weigh on me terribly, but soon enough Sinclair is

leading me back to our forest suite, and it’s all I can do to hold my tongue until we’re alone. I have so

much to tell him about my visit with the refugees, and I can't wait to take him back to the camp.

Of course, my mate seems to have little interest in talking when we're finally alone. Instead he pulls me

into his arms and slams his mouth to mine with an urgency that frightens and delights me. Goddess I

missed you, today. He admits in my thoughts. My wolf was furious that I let you go out into the city

without me.

Hmm, just think about how furious he'd be if you went gallivanting around Vanara and left me here all

by my lonesome. I reply saucily, nipping his lower lip with my fangs.

Sinclair growls and delves his tongue between my parted lips, gripping my hips and pressing me into

his hardness, letting me feel how badly he needs me through physical exertion, as well as our bond.

Careful little wolf, He warns. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to manipulate me. I arch

into him, my blood heating to a steady boil as he extracts kiss after kiss from my lips.

I would never dream of it. I answer, earning an indulgent chuckle from the ravenous predator.

Impudent mate. A little while ago I planned on convincing Sinclairto visit the refugees before climbing

into my nest for a late afternoon nap, now those things are the farthest things from my mind. All I can

think about now is joining with my mate, letting our two bodies become one and disappearing into the

rapture of being claimed by this powerful Alpha.

Sinclair is always a fierce lover, but today he seems particularly on edge. I’m not sure if it was the

meeting or my provocation, but I can tell he needs this even more badly than I do. He strips off my

clothes right there in the entrance of our rooms, then lifts me into his arms and guides my legs around

his waist, before pressing my bare back into the door. He's still fully clothed, but when I reach for the

buttons of his shirt he merely grumbles and I instinctively retreat.

There is no foreplay, no dirty words or teasing. Instead Sinclair slips his hand between my legs to make

sure I'm ready for him, before freeing his cock and driving himself deep. He takes me without restraint,

fisting his hand in my long hair as he withdraws his full length before slamming back into me over and

over again. His feral need is contagious, and soon I'm as wild as he is, rocking my hips up to meet him

as he closes his teeth around my mark. I cry out when he sinks his fangs in, cresting a wave of

pleasure from nothing more than his possession. When he spills himself inside me moments later, I find

myself unraveling once more, uncontrollably clenching and clamping around his hard member.

When Sinclair kisses me in the delirious aftermath, I can taste my own blood on his tongue, and I'm

surprised to find it strangely erotic. Breathing heavily, Sinclair pulls me from the wall and carries me to

my nest, dropping tender kisses to my hair. "Sorry about that trouble. I think I got carried away."

"Don’t apologize." I tell him with a sated smile. “I love it when you get carried away."

"Do you now?" He purrs, stroking my hair as he lies back onto the thick bed of pillows.

"Mhmm," I sigh, snuggling in as he pulls a blanket over us. Only now am I permitted to unbutton his

shirt so I can feel his bare skin against mine, and press my nose to his chest to breathe in his scent. "It

makes me feel very powerful... knowing I can make my mate lose control."

"Only you, Ella." Sinclair professes, and I can feel his love for me blazing through our bond. "You're the

only one that can do this to me."

I flush with feminine pride, nuzzling his pec and giving it a nibble. "Are you feeling better?" I inquire

drowsily. He hadn’t said a word or let me feel his stress, but it's obvious he was struggling. Between the

grim briefing and my absence, is it any wonder he was so on edge?

"Much." He assures me, continuing to purr as he rubs my back. I'm sure he senses how ready I am for

a nap, but I won’t be discouraged from my mission.

"You have to come meet the refugees with me tomorrow." I tell him. "I’ve decided I’m going to go every

day, and I think it would be really good for you to see them too.

To my immense surprise, Sinclair goes stiff beneath me. "I don't think that's a good idea."

I rally my strength to lift my head from him chest, "why not?”

Sinclair frowns deeply, still petting me, but he won't look at me. "I just don't." He answers distantly.

"Dominic, talk to me." I beg. "Why don't you want to go?"

"Because," he clamps his eyes shut, and I feel a rush of annoyance from him, frustration that I'm

pushing him. I don’t care, if I know anything about this stubborn man, it's that he needs a good push

every now and then." Because it's my fault they're even here. The Prince didn’t start this war... I did."