Accidental Surrogate for Alpha-Accidental Surrogate For Alpha Novel Chapter 26
Posted on February 08, 2025 · 1 mins read
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Ella Sinclair was instantly alert. He sat up in bed, pulled back the covers, and stared at the red stain on my nightgown with an unreadable expression. He pressed his palm to my belly, undoubtedly trying to communicate with the pup through their mental link. I trembled, terrified that the new life inside me might already be ending.

"I think he's okay," Sinclair murmured after a moment, looking up at me with a furrowed brow. "But we should get you to the hospital right away."

I slid out of bed on autopilot, my mind spinning with terrible possibilities. What if my ovaries were too damaged by Mike's sabotage to support a healthy baby? What if my uterus wasn't strong enough to carry the child to term? Was the doctor right at our last appointment? Was something wrong from the start? Was that why it was so small?

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop shaking as blood rushed in my ears. Please don't take this baby from me, I silently begged the universe. It's all I have; I won't survive losing it.

Sinclair dressed quickly, but I was only vaguely aware of him moving. Frozen with fear, I stood still, afraid to make the bleeding worse. Without asking, Sinclair swept me into his arms, pausing only to wrap me in a coat before carrying me out into the snow and into the car.

We arrived at the emergency room in minutes. Sinclair didn't bother parking, instead skidding to a stop in front of the main entrance and carrying me inside. I'd been to the hospital before; it was always a long, drawn-out process of triage and hours of waiting.

Not this time.

The moment the staff saw Sinclair, they leaped into action, eager to obey him. I'd never been more grateful for his wealth and influence. Nurses and orderlies gathered, leading us straight to a treatment area. They brought a wheelchair, but Sinclair held me tightly. "She's three weeks pregnant and bleeding," he said.

Realizing he wasn't releasing me, the nurses took away the wheelchair and directed us into a consultation room. "Okay, honey, just hold on," they advised. "We'll get someone over to take a look at you right away."

No sooner had Sinclair set me down on a reclining gurney than an orderly arrived with a scratchy hospital gown and an ultrasound machine, followed shortly by a doctor in a white coat. The man nodded to Sinclair, saying, "Alpha." Suddenly, I realized the special treatment wasn't only because of Sinclair's wealth. This must be a shifter hospital, which made perfect sense. He wouldn't take a werewolf child to a human facility.

Sinclair greeted the man stiffly, still hovering protectively over me. I hadn't had time to change or get comfortable, and I leaned into Sinclair's solid strength, finding relief in his presence amidst the uncertainty.

"Is it alright if I examine her?" the doctor asked, nodding toward me.

This struck me as odd—first, because it was directed at Sinclair, not me, and second, because an exam was why we were there. Of course it was alright! However, a low rumble sounded in Sinclair's chest, and I realized how menacing his energy had become. He glared at anyone who came near me, strategically placing his body between us. He wouldn't appreciate the comparison, but his behavior reminded me of a dog guarding a bone.

I hiccuped a hysterical laugh at the image—the big bad Alpha getting possessive about his new human pet—but when the doctor and Sinclair looked at me with concern, I sobered. "Sorry, my nerves are fraying a bit," I explained, prompting Sinclair to wrap an arm around me.

Turning to the doctor, I added, "I don't know how long I've been bleeding; I just woke up and felt it."

The doctor looked back to Sinclair, waiting for his permission before approaching me. "Have you had any other symptoms?"

I shook my head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. A bit of morning sickness, mood swings, cravings—everything you'd expect."

"That's good," the doctor confirmed, smiling before looking at Sinclair. "And the mental link?"

"Strong heartbeat and consistent emotional blips," Sinclair replied. His hand returned to my stomach. "It's sleeping—I think."

The doctor nodded. "Alright, then I'd like to run some tests to make sure everything is alright with mother and pup. Spotting isn't unusual in the early stages, though there's a bit more blood than I'd like. Ella, why don't you get changed, and then a nurse will be in to take your vitals—then we'll take some blood and do an ultrasound."

He stepped out, and before I could think about changing, Sinclair pulled my nightgown off. "Oh! Dominic, I can do that myself."

"Just let me take care of you, Ella," he responded sternly, leaving no room for argument as he helped me into the gown. I complied, telling myself it was for his benefit. I didn't let myself think about how nice it felt to have someone helping me—not to have to go it alone.

"Lie back now," Sinclair encouraged once the gown was secured, helping me recline. He leaned his elbow near my head, looking down intently. "How are you doing?"

His scrutiny felt too intense, and I couldn't meet his eyes. I shrugged. "I'll decide how I feel when we know what's going on."

Before he could respond, the nurse returned and took my vital signs. Everything seemed normal until she took my blood pressure. She pursed her lips at the numbers on the screen, and I felt my pulse race. One forty over one hundred! My blood pressure had never been so high.

"Is that reading normal for you?" the nurse asked with false nonchalance.

"No, my blood pressure is usually below average," I squeaked, causing Sinclair to move closer.

He returned his hand to my belly, circling his fingers soothingly. "You've had a scare," he reasoned, looking to the nurse for reassurance. "I'm sure that's all this is."

She didn't respond, instead eyeing me with concern. "You need to try to calm down, Ella. Take some deep breaths and let your mate worry about the pup."

"Let my mate worry about the pup?" I repeated indignantly, sitting up. "I'm its mother; I can't just turn off my love for it."

"She wasn't suggesting that, sweetheart," Sinclair crooned, gathering me to his chest and purring. Against my will, I leaned into his hold.

"That's it," the nurse encouraged with a smile. "Everything else looks good; we'll check your pressure again in a bit, and I'll inform the doctor of the situation."

I sulkily snuggled closer to Sinclair, glaring at the nurse's back. "How do you do that?" I inquired sullenly, breathing in Sinclair's scent.

"Do what?" he asked, stroking my hair.

"That purring thing!" I clarified, resenting him for making me feel better when my baby might be in danger, then feeling guilty for resenting him. My moods were so variable these days. I'd always heard how wild one's emotions could become when pregnant, but I didn't realize it would happen this fast.

Sinclair chuckled warmly. "It's something all male wolves can do—it's how we soothe our mates when they're upset."

"Oh," I blinked. "How did you know it would work on a human?"

"I didn't," he said. "I didn't even mean to do it the first time—it was simply instinct, but you responded so beautifully."

"Hmph," I murmured, unsure if I liked him having that kind of power over me. "Do female wolves have some way of soothing their mates?"

Sinclair laughed again, a deep, sultry sound. "Lots of ways."

"Like what?" I pressed.

"That's a conversation for another day," Sinclair remarked slyly, piquing my curiosity.

I wanted to object, to ask more, but the doctor reappeared. He did my ultrasound with quick professionalism, and I was relieved to hear the baby's steady heartbeat. Still, I wouldn't relax until I knew everything was okay. When he concluded the exam, I was breathless for news.

"Well?" I asked anxiously. "Is the baby okay?"