Accidental Surrogate for Alpha-Accidental Surrogate For Alpha Novel Chapter 111
Posted on February 17, 2025 · 1 mins read
Listen to this chapter:

"Cora, tell me what happened," I demanded, crossing my skinny arms. I was eight years old, glaring down at my surrogate sister with a stern expression. This had always been our dynamic. She was a year older, but I'd always possessed the dominant personality.

"It was nothing," she insisted, avoiding my gaze.

"You're lying," I countered stubbornly. "I can always tell."

"No, you think you always know," Cora answered sullenly, though we both knew I was right. I could read my sister like a book.

"Would you just tell me?" I pressed, sighing with exasperation.

"Fine. It's not even a big deal. It was just some of the big kids being jerks," she explained gravely.

"Which ones?" I responded immediately. "Point them out." It could have been anyone; even children our own age were often bigger. The orphanage physician seemed to label us undersized and undernourished every year, though nothing ever changed.

Reluctantly, Cora pointed toward a familiar gang of kids, aged eleven to fourteen. The ringleader, a beefy thirteen-year-old, always wore a cruel leer, as if perpetually searching for someone to bully—just for the fun of it. "See? There's nothing we can do. They run this place."

"I beg to differ," I answered, tilting my chin defiantly. "We don't have to be bigger than them—just smarter. Now tell me what they said to you."

Cora's voice was so low I almost couldn't hear her. She stared at the ground, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "They called me a worthless gutter rat and said no one would ever adopt me because I'm too ugly."

Protective fury boiled inside me. This was the weak spot for any abandoned child. None of us knew what it was like to be wanted or unconditionally loved; the only thing keeping us going was the hope of one day finding parents. Targeting my sister's biggest insecurity deserved serious punishment. "I'll kill them," I seethed, my tiny hands clenching into fists.

"Ella, no," Cora argued, disheartened. "I mean, maybe they have a point. We're getting older, and you know how it is. Parents only ever want babies. You might have a chance—you're so pretty—but I have to be realistic."

"Cora, I want parents just as badly as you do, but I'm not going to leave you," I vowed. I'd like to see any grown-up try to take me away from the orphanage without her. "We're sisters."

"It's easy for you to say that," Cora offered a hesitant smile. "You adopt all the outcasts." This wasn't the first time she'd said this. I did have a knack for taking the most skittish and rejected children under my wing, but I couldn't stand by and let them be mistreated or fend for themselves. We all needed each other.

"Everyone here is an outcast," I reminded her. "Why else do you think the big kids are so mean? They're mad that no one ever picked them, and they take it out on us because they think we might still have a chance."

"Does that mean you're going to let them off the hook?" she asked, arching a brow.

"Of course not. I'm just going to remind them that we're in this together," I answered reasonably, trying to calm my own anger.

Cora's teeth flashed in a pearly grin. "And if they don't listen?"

"Then I'll kick them in the pants," I sniffed, turning to march toward the bullies. Cora trailed behind, whispering anxiously about what a bad idea this was. I didn't listen, determined to defend her no matter the odds.

"Hey you, didn't anyone ever teach you to pick on someone your own size?" I called from a few meters away.

The older children turned and laughed when they saw me. The ringleader rose to his feet and scoffed, "Even if they did, that ain't you, pipsqueak."

"It is if you account for brains," I retorted. "You shouldn't be mean to Cora just because you're unhappy. That isn't fair, and she doesn't deserve it."

"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it, brat?" He stalked forward, looming over me with malicious intent. "A scrawny little thing like you? You're even more useless than she is." He shoved me, both hands slamming into my shoulders.

At first, I stumbled back, but something powerful and fearless rose within me. I snarled and pounced, scrambling onto the older boy's body and attacking him tooth and nail. He screamed and flailed his arms. "What—hey! Get her off me! What is this!" I didn't relent, digging my nails into his flesh, biting and scratching with all my might.

As I returned to the present, I realized how strange my behavior had been that day. Normal human girls didn't act like that, did they?

"You did that?" Sinclair asked, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.

I nodded. "The way Cora tells it, that's the day I became the de facto leader of the orphanage, just by being scrappy enough to take on the big kids. When it was over, I tended his wounds, and from then on they were all loyal to me. My own little gang."

"You made your own pack," Sinclair observed, massaging my tense shoulders. His words sank in slowly, but I gradually recognized the truth—not only the wolfish group I'd formed, but my ability to wrangle the other children.

"It all makes sense now," I mused aloud. "I was able to beat him because I'm a wolf… I mean, I'm sure I wouldn't have been any match for a non-dormant pup, but the human kids still weren't as strong. I never understood how I won before."

"Strength isn't everything. From the sounds of it, you were a born leader, and that has nothing to do with being a wolf—not alone, at least," he praised, dipping his head to kiss my neck. "My fierce Ella."

"Yeah, well, that was before," I answered, my voice taking on a hollow quality I hated.

"Before what?" Sinclair questioned, his body still beside mine.

I shrugged. "It was easy to be fierce before I knew how much there was in the world to fear," I shared hesitantly. "I didn't know how much worse it could get back then. It reached a point where I couldn't protect the other kids anymore," I confessed. "Or myself…"

I fidgeted, unable to meet Sinclair's eyes. "What Cora said about me being pretty… she didn't come up with that on her own. She was just repeating what she heard from the grown-ups. I mean, I know that's not why…" I stumbled over my words, changing tracks and making no sense, but I couldn't help it. "I know those things happen to lots of girls no matter what they look like… but it's what they always said when…" I shook my head, unable to finish the thought.

Unwanted images flashed through my vision, and I forced them away. A new thought occurred to me, a revelation I hadn't been able to focus on earlier, but which now made our circumstances seem even more surreal. "Dominic, I'm not sure we're on the right path with all this. I don't think anyone was keeping track of me after I was given to the humans."

"Why do you say that?" he inquired curiously, seeming willing to be distracted by this importance.

"Because if they'd been watching me, then they would have known everything that was going on in the orphanage," I explained. "And I can't believe they would have just stood by and let those things happen to a child they cared about."

Sinclair sat up, looking down at me with a furrowed brow. His hands stroked my side, but I think he knew there was nothing he could do to make this better. "What things, sweetheart?"

I took a deep breath, but it came out shaky and weak. I clenched my eyes shut, and a tear escaped. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this."

"You don't have to if you aren't ready, Ella," he cuddled me closer, and I hiccuped in thanks. "We're going to get to the bottom of this. But for now, I'm here, and you're safe. I'm not going to let anything hurt you ever again."

I leaned into his warmth, stunned to realize I believed him. Even though the Prince and his henchmen were out to kill me, I felt completely secure with Sinclair, a feeling I never expected to experience with any man. Overflowing with love, I smiled up at the huge Alpha. "I know."