Accidental Surrogate for Alpha novel Chapter 115

Ella

Tears are streaming down Sinclair’s face as he relives his Mother’s death, and I’m doing my best not to burst into outright sobs. My heart aches for the little boy he once was, and for the burden he obviously still carries today. Hearing this story, I understand that his last conversation with his mother had truly stayed with him over the years, shaping him into the man before me now.

“Afterwards, I learned that she’d gotten Roger out of the house only to realize that I wasn’t there.” Sinclair continues, wiping his eyes. “She ran back in to get me, even though the guards tried to stop her.” Sinclair relates, “So you see, that’s why Roger always blamed me… he wasn’t wrong. If I’d listened to her the first time, if I’d gone outside when she told me to, she would still be alive now.”

“But Pancake wouldn’t.” I remind him thickly.

The corners of his mouth quirk up, “It was almost thirty years ago, baby. Pancake is long gone.”

“You know what I mean.” I chide him. “And your mother understood because you were doing exactly what she was trying to teach you – to protect those more vulnerable than yourself.”

“I know.” He confesses. “I spent years in therapy, just trying to come to terms with the fact that it was her choice. I was a child and couldn’t have understood the danger, and she didn’t have to come after me.”

“But she was your mother, it wasn’t even a question for her.” I murmur, twining my limbs with his so he can feel my solid weight in his arms. “She wanted you to live much more than she cared about her own survival.”

He nods wordlessly, his eyes still distant, as if he hasn’t truly returned to the present. “I understand that, but sometimes I still think that if it wasn’t for me, she never would have needed to make a choice in the first place. My decision that day took her from Dad and Roger and the pack.”

“Did you ever find out how the fire started?” I ask softly, running my fingers through the dark, thick locks of his hair.

“In the weeks after the fire, it became clear that it was arson.” Sinclair explains hoarsely. “Dad was away on pack business, and it was well known that Mom was home with the pups. We were never able to prove it, but we always suspected the attack was political. King Xavier was on the throne then, and my father was his right hand and next in line. All the politics that are playing out today – they were already under way back then.”

“You think it was the King – the current one, I mean?” I inquire.

Sinclair sighs, his emotions less potent now that we’ve moved on to politics. “The problem with being the biggest and baddest wolf around is that it puts a colossal target on your back. And the worse thing is that you’re so hard to kill and people are often so afraid of taking you on directly, that they go after your family instead.” Sinclair shares. “It might not be as effective as killing you, but Alphas who lose their mate and pups rarely recover fully.”

Sinclair pauses to nuzzle my neck and caress my belly, as if reminding himself that Rafe and I are safe. “It could have been anyone, but I actually think Xavier is a more likely suspect than the current king – my father was younger and not quite strong enough yet to rule, but it was clear he would be soon. Xavier didn’t have heirs and though he still had a lot of time left to try and make them, I think the writing was already on the wall. My father was too strong and too well liked.”

“Dominic, if it was arson then it wasn’t your decision that took your mother, it was Xavier’s, or whoever was responsible. It wasn’t some tragic accident, it was murder.” I argue, hating the guilt still dominating my mate’s expression.

He gazes down at me tenderly. “You don’t have to worry, Ella. I’m okay – I forgave myself a long time ago.”

“But Dominic, there’s nothing to forgive.” I insist, near tears again. “It wasn’t your fault.” I pull back far enough to look into his emerald eyes. “I can tell you right now, that if it came down to me or Rafe, I would choose him every time – even tiny as he is. And I wouldn’t ever want him to think that my sacrifice wasn’t worth it, or to blame himself.”