Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

hapter 133- Ella gets angry

Ella

.“I’m in the Royal Palace.” I finally burst out. “The third floor, my windows look out over the southern

gate… it’s a corner suite.”

At once the crushing weight of his orders dissipate, and I’m left a puddle in his arms. “Good girl.”

Sinclair praises me, and I feel positively sick to my stomach. “It’s all going to be okay.”

I can’t stop crying. I’m beating my fists against Sinclair’s chest, angrier than I can ever remember being

with him. “How could you, how could you?” I moan, my entire body shaking with the force of my

weeping.

“I’m sorry, Ella.” He lets me attack him and never moves to defend himself, only holding me steady as I

vent my feelings onto him. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll make it up to you, but I stand by what I

said. You’re done hurting yourself for the sake of others.”

“But the world needs you! Not me!” I explode, finding it more and more difficult to take in air. “And what

do you think they’ll do to me if you die? How is that going to help anything?”

“I need you, Ella.” Sinclair argues, “I need you as my mate, as the mother of my pups – my Luna. I’m

not going to die, Ella.” Sinclair promises. “And neither are you. We’re not going to let him win,

sweetheart.”

“You don’t know that!” I combat, heaving in another sob. “I will never forgive you for this, Dominic. Not

for as long as I live.”

“The point is that you will live, trouble.” He murmurs, his lips against my temple. “ That’s what matters

most. I’d rather you hate me and live, than love me and die – and for that, I won’t apologize.”

“Well I do hate you!” I try to say, but it sounds about as fierce as a wounded butterfly.

“Do you really?” He inquires, a teasing note in his voice. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“Just don’t die.” I beg, and I realize that I stopped fighting him at some point. Now I’m clinging to him

the same way I had been when he first arrived in my dream, and part of me wishes we could never

leave this fantasy realm. We’re both safe here. I can be my wolf here without harming my baby, he can

claim me and we can be together forever – just the three of us.

“Shh,” Sinclair croons, cuddling me to his chest. “We can work with the Palace, Ella. There are

pa*sages in and out of the building intended for Royal emergencies. There’s a chance there might be

some in your rooms, and even if there aren’t, I might be able to find some in order to get inside.”

“But how are we supposed to tell each other if we’re able to find one?” I sniffle, more confused than

anything else. “It was hard enough to fall asleep the first time – I’m in a cupboard.”

“A cupboard?” Sinclair repeats, a note of amusement in his voice.

“It felt safer than anything else.” I defend hotly, knowing he probably can’t understand the logic of my

swirling hormones and trauma. “The point is that I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to fall asleep again, and

neither of us has any time to waste. You can’t plan if you’re asleep.”

“Well, I can tell you this much,” Sinclair muses aloud. “The safest option for everyone would be if you

can find a pa*sageway. Often the royal family are the only ones who know they exist, which means

they won’t be guarded. Moreover, they’re used for evacuations, which means they lead outside the

palace walls.”

“Really?” I whisper, my tears slowing now.

“You see, sometimes telling me the truth has its benefits.” Sinclair states, only slightly smug. The worst

part is that he’s right. I always feel better after I’ve come clean to him about my secrets, and the cocky

bastard knows it.

“How do you know all this?” I inquire curiously.

“You forget that my father was almost King once, and we keep very close ties with the pack elders.

Besides, the royal family and the Moon Valley Alpha are supposed to function as each other’s backup

in times of emergency – we know the protocols for evacuation and everything else in case the worst

happens, even if we don’t know the specifics.”

“But what if there aren’t any pa*sages in my room?” I ask nervously, knowing it will mean I have to wait

for his rescue.

“Then I come to you.” Sinclair shrugs. “Hopefully you’ll be able to get out before that’s necessary. If you

can escape then you can get in contact and let us know to call it off.”

“Call what off?” I fret, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

“The Prince is waiting until the end of the day to hear from me. I’ll set the meet and tell him the location

fifteen minutes before the planned rendezvous – just like we did the ransom meeting.” I’m surprised to

hear that Sinclair already met with the man, and that the Prince is still standing afterwards, then again,

he has a very strong trump card as long as I’m in his grasp. “But instead of going to the meeting, my

men and I will infiltrate the palace. I’ll reach out of Adolpho and see if he knows any of the pa*sage

entrances.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I press, seeing far too many ways for this situation to go wrong.

Sinclair drops a quick succession of kisses to my cheek. “You’re just determined to poke holes aren’t

you? If he doesn’t then we’ll do this the old fashioned way and go over the walls. If you find a pa*sage

then leave some sort of hint for us in your room – draw the curtains closed and unmake the bed.”

“Why, if you get there and it’s empty then won’t you know that I managed to get out?” I object, trying to

follow his logic.

“No, they could move you to another location, or we could end up in the wrong room thinking it’s yours

and accidentally leave you behind. If we arrive and see the room in that state, we’ll know we’re in the

right place but we need to retreat. Is there anything else distinctive about your room? A color scheme,

or something?”

“The walls are green.” I share, “and there are yellow flowers on the armoire.”

“Okay, that’s even better.” Sinclair nods. “Actually, it would be good if you can try to leave some sort of

clue about where the pa*sage was – so we can follow you out that way and catch up.”

I shake my head in awe, not understanding how he can be so calm about all this. Our very lives are on

the line, but Sinclair is the cool and collected strategist, working out the problem as if it’s a jigsaw

puzzle. “What kind of clue?”

He pauses to think. “Is there anything in your room you can use to write a coded message?”

“I think there’s a notepad and pen by the desk.” I recall.

“Then write a message to the prince, but spell out the location of the pa*sage using the first letter of

every sentence.” He instructs, and I can see the gears whirring in his mind.

“Okay, where should I look for pa*sages?” I inquire, trying to picture the opulent bedroom.

“Start with any furniture or decorations against the walls – the back of your cupboard, paintings,

fireplaces. Pull down vases, cot hooks, anything that might trigger a wall opening. Do the same in the

bathroom. Pay attention to scuffs on the floor from sliding furniture, or drafts of air. If that doesn’t work

then just start pushing on the walls – you remember the entrance to the safehouse?” I nod, and he

continues. “It could be a pressure sensor like that.”

“How can you possibly be so calm about this?” I breathe, feeling my pulse fluttering in my veins.

“I’m not calm, Ella.” Sinclair corrects me, looking down to meet my gaze. Sure nough, I see fire blazing

in his brilliant irises, and a muted rage I know he’s saving for the Prince. “Trust me, I’m the farthest

thing in the world from calm, but the best thing I can do to help you right now is figure out a plan, so

that’s what I’m doing.

I nod, clenching my eyes shut. “How much time do we have?” I inquire, having a bad feeling that our

reprieve is coming to an end.

“If you don’t have any more questions then I should go.” Sinclair says regretfully. “I wish it was

otherwise, but I need to start getting plans in motion, and you need to start searching for your escape.”

“Okay,” I murmur, trying not to fall apart again.

“I love you, trouble.” Sinclair replies, tilting my face up to his and claiming a deep kiss.

“I love you too.” I answer, just in case this all goes terribly wrong. I don’t want to let my earlier

proclamation of hate to stand. “I’m sorry I said –”

“I know,” He a*sures me, kissing me again. “It’s going to be okay. Now wake up – the sooner you do,

the sooner we can be together again.”

I wake with tears in my eyes, but with fresh determination. I climb out of the wardrobe, and begin the

hunt.