Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story
Chapter 251 To War (Ella)
“Do we have to stay very long?” I ask Sinclair, snuggling up against his side. We’ve just finished the wedding feast and the party is shifting towards the ballroom. The orchestra is warming up in the distance, and the guests are gradually dwindling out of the great hall, lured by the promise of dancing.
“I think we have to stay through the opening dance – at the very least.” He rumbles back, k*issing my forehead as his f*ingers trace circles on my thigh. “I might have hijacked this event but it is still part of the summit. Why?” He asks, sliding wolfish eyes to my flushed face, “is there something you’d rather be doing, little wolf?”
I shoot him a sulky glare, “you know exactly what I want to be doing, Dominic.”
Sinclair adopts a look of confusion, which my wolf doesn’t buy for a single second. “I’m sure I don’t.” He lies – the rat! “Do you want to go for a run?”
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The offer is surprisingly tempting. It’s been almost an entire week since I last let my wolf out, and she carries the burden of my belly much more gracefully than I do. I would give quite a bit for the freedom to run and play as easily as she does, and I have a feeling that longing is only going to increase as the pregnancy progresses. Still, I don’t let my mate distract me, “No. I have a very different activity in mind.”
“Well you know all you need to do is ask, sweetheart.” Sinclair states in a voice like gravel, one that betrays his own desire. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
I fight back a whimper. He knows I can’t ask him for such things in public, it’s hard enough to speak such words in the privacy of our bedroom. My sly wolf wants to do it any way, to use his own dirty trick against him by speaking our desires and getting his own inner animal so riled up he’ll be forced to drag us off like a caveman. Unfortunately my shy sensibilities and concern for the political optics overrule her, so I can only nibble my cake and pout while Sinclair murmurs promises in my ear.
“Soon enough, trouble.” He placates, his heated breath fluttering over my skin, “I’m every bit as eager to take you to bed as you are, we just have to be patient.”
Reluctantly I allow Sinclair to lead me into the ballroom, where we’re given the honor of the first dance – both as summit hosts and the ‘newly’ mated couple. Sinclair spins me around the dancefloor in his arms, and I keep myself from becoming dizzy by staring into his gorgeous eyes.
I thought I would want to quit after one dance, but once we’re moving I’m reminded of how much fun it is to twirl around this way, feeling lighter than air. Only when my feet begin screaming in protest does my mate pin me with one of his searing gazes that tells me he can see right through me, “How are those feet doing, trouble?”
“That depends, if I say they’re aching will you take me up to our room and rub them for me?” I inquire, batting my lashes.
“We’re almost there, baby.” He promises, leading me to the opulent seats at the front of the room. “Just one more toast and then we can run away.”
He guides me into one of the chairs and retrieves a flute of champaign. Someone clinks a knife against their own glass, and a gradual silence falls over the room. “First of all, I have to thank everyone who helped plan this evening. An enormous amount of work went into bringing this summit and this ball together, even before I decided to make everyone’s job that much harder by adding a mating ceremony to the mix. My lovely bride Ella was up day and night making sure everything was perfect, as were hundreds of planners, coordinators, florists, chefs and palace staffers.” He continues, raising his glass, “to my brother, my sister-in-law and our friend Isabel, you were instrumental in transforming the night and helping me surprise my mate, and I am incredibly grateful to you all.” He continues down the least, seeming to fear leaving out a single person from his thank you list.
Only once he’s finished delivering this praise, does he turn his attention to the summit delegations. “As some of you may know, we were extremely excited to reach a summit agreement yesterday evening. I am thrilled to announce that we will be forging an alliance with the Vanaran packs in the war against Emperor Damon, and we’re moving very quickly in light of the urgent situation. I cannot express the depth of my respect and appreciation for all the delegations in attendance here, as well as to your peoples across the continent – your support and loyalty is a gift we will never be able to repay, and I am proud to stand with you all.“
Excited muttering bursts throughout the room, as many of the courtiers and refugees are learning this information for the first time. I gaze around at the crowd, watching as fresh hope and anticipation fills their varied countenances. Sinclair is still speaking, describing the challenges ahead and the importance of this fight for shifters and humans alike. I have to admit he’s very talented when it comes to inspiring speeches, and it’s apparent by the energy building in the room. Still, it’s not until he mentions an imminent deployment that I finally drag my attention from the audience.
“By this time next week our forces will be assembling on the Royal Continent, poised to launch our offensive against the tyrant, in conjunction with the resistance forces already on the ground. It is my greatest hope that we can bring an end to this devastating conflict as soon as possible, but I’m also hesitant to make any promises about battle timelines. War is unpredictable and chaotic at the best of times, and I would rather set realistic expectations than make promises I cannot keep. Nonetheless, you have my word that I will do everything in my power to bring this war to a quick and speedy end.”
The room begins to spin as Sinclair finishes up. Maybe I’m a fool, but somehow I didn’t expect him to be leaving Vanara so soon. I suppose I’ve been so caught up in my plans to find my mother, that I failed to calculate how a successful alliance would impact my mate’s movements. So it comes as a rather unwelcome shock to learn that he’s planning on returning home to fight as soon as next week – though I seem to be the only one.
After Sinclair finishes Gabriel stand, setting off a chain of toasts that all seem to drag on for far too long. By the time my mate finally returns to my side, I’m struggling to stay calm. “Have I mentioned how incredible you look tonight?” My mate grins, approaching my chair with outstretched hands.
I let him pull me to my feet, but I can’t seem to summon a response.
“Are you okay?” Sinclair asks gently, his big hand circling my nape.
“Can we go upstairs now?” I ask faintly. Sinclair is already moving, sweeping me up into his arms and carting me off to a symphony of raucous cheers. No one seems to notice that neither one of us looks as thrilled as we did a little while ago.
“Talk to me, little wolf.” Sinclair murmurs as soon as we’re out of hearing distance from the ballroom.
“It’s nothing.” I choke, quickly correcting myself when Sinclair growls in warning. “I mean it is, but it’s my own fault. I haven’t… I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting you to be going back so soon.”
Sinclair’s eyes fall shut, remorse washing over his features. “I’m sorry, Ella. I should have talked to you about it directly. We just finalized the plans this afternoon. The visit to the continent was an unwelcome reminder of the promises I made to myself when we left. I can’t – in good conscience – stay away now that we have the military support we needed. Besides, with you setting off to find your mother, there’s no reason for me to stay here any longer.”
“So what happens when I’ve found her and I’m ready to join you again, when it’s time to have the baby?” I ask, feeling terribly uncertain.
Sinclair sighs, carrying me into our suite. “Can I make a request, sweetheart?”
“Of course.” I agree, looking up into his handsome face.
“I know you’re feeling anxious right now, and we can talk about this if you need to. But we started this evening on such an amazing high note, and I don’t want to bring us down with talk of war.” He brushes the hair back from my face. “I just want to celebrate – to steal a few more worry-free hours with you and just be together.”
I nod eagerly, tears slipping from my lashes as I lean into his warmth, circling my arms around his n*eck. “I’d like that… though I don’t know, it might take some effort to make me forget.”
“Challenge accepted.” Sinclair answers wolfishly, lowering his mouth to my n*eck. He pulls back the strap of my gown to reveal the swollen bite he inflicted at the altar. I hiss at the sting of cold air, and Sinclair purrs in sympathy. “Poor sweet mate, is your mark sore?”
I nod pitifully, “You’ve never claimed me without giving me an orgasm first.” I lament. “It hurt a lot more than I expected.”
“Well then,” Sinclair replies, eyes glowing as he takes my words to heart, “let’s see what I can do about that.”