Chapter 67 – Falling for the Alpha as a Surrogate Novel

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Sinclair

The rogues aren’t as smart as they think they are. Their only chance would have been to attack me all at once. Instead they try to lunge at me two at a time, giving each other time to rest and rebound in between attacks. At first – the first five seconds that is

– it works. The red wolf crashes into my side while a big gray beta slams into my right. Then the other two charge me, but as soon as I’ve seen what they’re about – I adapt.

The next time a wolf lunges for me I meet him head on, snatching his neck between my jaws and violently ripping into him with my fangs. As soon as he falls I turn on the other, slashing at the other wolves with my front and hind legs while my mouth rips the next attacker limb from limb. I’ve tasted their blood now, and my worry for Ella and the baby is growing stronger with every moment that passes.

These four would have been outmatched with me on a good day, but the Prince was an idiot to send them on the Solstice, and he was certainly a fool to have them attack my mate at the same time. Normal wolves can do extraordinary things to protect their families – and I’m no ordinary wolf.

Within minutes their bodies are scattered around me, and I don’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for killing them. These wolves are probably some of the same ones responsible for the attack at the canal, and while I might forgive an attack on me, I will never forgive an attack on my pack or the woman they believe is my mate.

Even if I was in a forgiving mood, I can’t afford to let them get word back to the Prince. The wolves after Ella will know she hasn’t shifted and they probably already communicated that with their friends. They’ll realize that Ella isn’t truly a she-wolf, and that secret is certainly going to die with them.

I sprint through the forest towards Ella and the other rogues. When I find Ella’s abandoned coat and realize she’s tried to lay a false trail I’m impressed, and when I realize she’s gone into the stream I’m both proud and terrified. I can hear snarling in the distance, which means she’s still alive. But how long has she been out of the water, and what have they done to her?

Finally I reach the boulders where Ella has taken refuge. The rogues are so busy clawing impotently at the rocks that they don’t even notice my arrival. I thought I would be relieved to find Ella alive – and I am – but nothing prepared me for the primal fury I would feel actually seeing these wolves go after my sweet little human. The sounds of her cries egg me on, making me roar out my wrath so that the bastards will get away from her.

My vision turns to a red haze, and I don’t even remember killing the rogues. One moment there’s nothing but the blood roaring in my ears and the taste of blood on my fangs, and the next I’m opening my eyes to a scene of utter carnage. I can’t recall ever inflicting so much damage on an enemy, I’ve literally torn them to shreds, and only too late do I consider that Ella will have just listened to all of that.

She’s still whimpering and crying, and I can hear her teeth chattering as well. Cursing myself, I shift back into my human form and use some snow to wash the blood from my face and limbs. Trying to shake off the violence, I go to kneel in front of the tiny cave into which Ella has forced herself. “Ella?”

A small whine meets my ears, and I try to steady my heaving breath. “It’s alright, little one.” I promise. “They’re gone. They can’t hurt you.”

I listen for sounds of movement, and I remember the way she went into shock after the first attack. My Goddess, I think bitterly.

Only a month together and there’s already been more than one attack. Some protector I am.

“Can you come out to me, Ella?” I ask gently, wishing I could force my way in there with her. I can smell her blood, though it isn’t as strong as the rogue’s. Of course, that’s not saying much, all the blood that was once inside them is now out, but it doesn’t smell like Ella is bleeding badly.

Yet she doesn’t move, and fresh panic lances through me – she could have broken bones or frostbite and I wouldn’t smell a thing. “Are you hurt? How long have you been out of the water?”

Still there’s nothing, and I’m becoming increasingly afraid I’m going to have to break through the rocks to reach her. I begin to purr, hoping this will break through her shock enough to lure her out of hiding. “You did so well evading them and finding a hiding place, sweetheart.” I praise. “You gave me time to reach you, but now you have to help me and come out so I can take care of you.”

Bending down, I peer into the crevice, wondering if she might take my hand and let me pull her out. When I finally see her, however, I know she isn’t in any state to help me. Her beautiful eyes are clenched tightly shut, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clamps her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth in the small space. I doubt she can hear me, and I have a feeling she wouldn’t see me even if she opened her eyes.

Ella’s arms are covered in defensive wounds where she must have been shielding herself from the attacker’s arms reaching in after her, and I immediately know reaching in myself will only frighten her more. I purr more loudly, and Ella’s body seems to jolt, but just as quickly she doubles down, as if she’s trying to block out the sensations – as if she doesn’t trust them. I never knew my heart could break just having someone refuse my comfort, but not being able to reach Ella now, when she needs me most, hurts more than I could have imagined.

“Okay, baby.” I decide, wishing there was any other way, “I wish I could let you stay here until you’re ready to come out, but it’s too cold.” I sigh. “I’m going to have to break through the rocks.”

I know she can’t hear me, but I continue talking to her in the hopes that she might come back to herself and understand.

She doesn’t.

Instead I place both of my hands on either side of the break in the boulders, and I summon all of my strength to force them apart.

It doesn’t happen immediately, but I think of Ella and our baby being trapped in these rocks forever, and I channel all of my power into destroying her makeshift fortress. A thunderous crack fills the air as they split in two, and I snatch Ella out of the cave before any sediment can fall on her.

The moment I lay a hand on Ella her eye’s snap open, but there’s no recognition in her brilliant irises. Instead sharp, acrid fear pours out of her, and she thrashes against my hold, trying to break free. I wrap my arms tightly around her small body, but Ella fights me like a wildcat, kicking, hitting, scratching and biting for all she’s worth. It’s amazing how difficult it is to keep hold of her, and if it weren’t so horrible I would be proud of the fight she’s putting up.

“Shhh, Ella, it’s alright. You’re safe. You’re safe now.” However her sightless eyes and desperate cries make me think this isn’t the first time she’s fought this way, and I find myself holding back tears as I finally dig my fingers into a pressure point at the base of her throat, stealing her consciousness.

Little by little, Ella fades into a forced sleep, her body finally going limp in my arms. When it’s over I slump onto the ground, gathering her precious form in my lap and pressing my hand to her belly. Our babe is whole and unharmed, but severely distressed. I try to send waves of comfort through our bond, beginning to purr again, but I think he can feel my own guilt and misery. He settles slightly, but pulses of anxiety continue to surge through our bond, as well as flashes of the fear and anguish Ella felt during the attack.

I don’t stay there long, too worried about Ella catching hypothermia to give into my own body’s demands for rest. However for the moment that I do remain, I wonder how it ever came to this: Naked, slumped on the ground surrounded by dead bodies, cradling the mother of my child in my arms and weeping my apologies into her neck.

I have to get her home. I have to make sure she’s alright. But as soon as I know Ella and the baby are okay, I’m going to find and kill the person responsible for this.

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