Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Sinclair
It’s mid-morning by the time I leave Roger’s house, and I dial Cora’s phone number, both because she needs to know about
what happened, and because I need help caring for Ella. Despite the doctor’s promises, I’m worried that Ella won’t recover as
quickly as he’s predicting and if anyone knows what to expect, her sister surely must.
“Mr Sinclair?” She sounds uncertain as she answers, as if she suspects her caller ID might be lying to her.
“Good morning, Cora.” I greet her, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry to disturb you when you’re at work, but I’m calling with some
bad news.”
I can feel the anxiety in her sharp intake of breath, and worry imbues her soft voice, “Is Ella okay? Is the baby?”
“They’re both at home resting.” I share, hoping this will assuage the worst of her fears. “But there was another attack last night.”
“Another one?” Cora squeaks, indignation bleeding into her voice as she continues. “I thought you were supposed to be this all
powerful Alpha? You’re supposed to be keeping her safe! My sister has known you for a month and she’s already had people
trying to kill her twice!”
I understand her outrage, and I agree with it completely. “I know. You have every right to be upset with me. I’m not very happy
with myself right now... I failed her.” I confess, exhaling heavily. “I’m not turning out to be a very good father so far.”
“I...” Cora doesn’t seem to know what to make of this. “Tsk,” She clears her throat. “Well is she alright? Does she need
anything?”
“She’s a bit scraped up, but I’m afraid the worst damage was psychological. It wasn’t like last time. She... she didn’t recognize
me afterwards.” I wonder if the human can hear how upsetting I find this particular detail, but when she remains silent I forge on.
“She’s in a deep state of shock – the doctor used the word dissociative, like she completely disconnected from her body to
protect her mind.”
Cora swears, but she doesn’t sound surprised. “I’ll leave work right now.” She offers, “I can be there within a half hour.”
“Wait.” I advise, “She’s been sedated and I’m not sure when she’ll wake up.” For a moment I debate whether or not I should
voice my next thought. Ella hasn’t spoken to me much about her childhood, but I know that she feels very protective of her sister.
Moreover, I remember the way she acted after the attack in the alley, refusing to show her upset to Cora, insisting she was fine.

“And... I don’t want to sound insensitive because I know you love Ella and want to be with her, but I’m afraid if you’re there she’ll
be so focused on not worrying you, that she’ll try to pretend like nothing happened and ignore her own wellbeing.”
Cora thinks about this for a minute. “You’re probably right about that. Ella has always been the caretaker... she really doesn’t
know how to deal with having the tables turned on her.”
“So I’ve learned.” I muse aloud. “So I think it would be best to give it a couple of days.”
“Alright.” Cora agrees, “But I can still help you. I know all her creature comforts, the things that soothe her best. I can send you a
list.”
“That would be wonderful.” I express honestly, thankful I decided to make this call before Ella wakes. By the time she returns to
consciousness I can have all her favorite things already on hand and ready to comfort her.
“But Sinclair –” Cora interrupts my thoughts.
“Please call me Dominic, Cora.” I correct gently.
“Dominic,” She repeats patiently. “It’s not my place to tell you the details... but I think you should know,”
“Yes?” I prompt her, having a dreadful premonition that I don’t want to hear whatever it is she’s about to say.
“These attacks aren’t the first traumas Ella has endured at the hands of men.” She explains vaguely, and I both want to demand
further explanations and forbid her from saying more. “She went through a lot when we were still children... she endured some of
it to protect me and the other kids.” Cora trails off for a moment, sounding positively miserable. My mind immediately floods with
horrible images of Ella, even more sweet and innocent than she is now, suffering at the hands of the adults meant to care for her.
“You need to be prepared that she won’t just be dealing with the trauma of the attacks when she wakes – but all the bad
memories they’ll have dredged up.”
“That’s why you weren’t surprised... when I told you she dissociated.” I guess, hating every word of this conversation. “You’ve
seen this before.”
“Yes.” Cora confirms, sounding remorseful. “But you’re not wrong either. She wants to protect the people she cares about even
when she’s in no state to do so.”
Something we have in common. I think bitterly.

“I suppose it’s two sides of the same coin.” I say instead. “Whether she’s doing it to protect herself from the pain or put on a
brave face for someone else, it’s still repressing the bad feelings.”
“Oh.” Cora murmurs, in the tone of someone having an epiphany.
“What?” I inquire, not liking this one bit.
“Well when you put it that way... I wonder if maybe we’re wrong about it being for someone else.” Cora shares. “I mean maybe
that’s how it started, but at the end of the day it still means she never learned how to cope with these things.”
A wave of understanding crashes into me. If Ella has only ever repressed the bad things in her life, it won’t matter if her sister is
there or not, she’ll try to do the same with this – because it’s all she knows. Only now do I realize that Ella didn’t just pretend she
was fine with Cora after the first attack. She might have come to me for safety, but she was a hollow shell as I tended her
wounds, and when I encouraged her to share her feelings she distracted me with an argument. She never even cried about the
attack, only my deception.
Ffuuucckk. I think, furious with myself for missing this, for letting the wiley minx outwit me.
“So what do I do?” I ask, hoping Cora will have the answer.
“Well I’ve never been able to refuse Ella anything when she’s hurting.” Cora remarks, sounding disheartened, “Especially not
when it’s my fault. Which means I’ve never called out her avoidance, I’ve just... well, I think I’ve enabled her – letting her tell me
what she wants and never questioning or pushing back on whether it’s healthy.”
It seems like Cora and I have more in common than I realized. It also seems she’s sharper than I gave her credit for, as I’m
receiving her message loud and clear. I might be blaming myself for putting Ella in danger, but I can’t let that guilt me into
coddling her. “But you’re an Alpha.” She elaborates. “So maybe you’ll be able to do what I never could – and not let her get away
with pretending everything is fine.”
“You can count on it.” I nod, taking this mission to heart. Ella is my responsibility, and it’s in my blood to take care of my pack.
She might be human, but Ella is pack now, and I know her in some ways her sister certainly doesn’t. I also know a thing or two
about helping stubborn she-wolves find catharsis – and from what I’ve seen, Ella will be no different.
“Thank you for telling me, Cora.” I profess genuinely. “And thank you for the advice. I’ll call you as soon as Ella is ready for
visitors.”

“Good luck.” Cora offers, “and just let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.” Hanging up, I realize that talking with Ella’s sister has completely changed my expectations for what the next few hours
hold. I was prepared for Ella to wake up in another fog or to come home to a basket case, but if the doctor is right and she’s lucid
– I’ll probably be dealing with one very obstinate little human in total denial.
When Cora’s email hits my inbox, listing out all of Ella’s favorite foods, music, films, and amenities, I make a detour to the store.
Stocking up on candles, essential oils, bubble bath, fancy scrubs and masks, dark chocolate, flowers and various groceries, I
plan out exactly how I’ll set up my rooms once I get home. I’m hoping I can get everything done before Ella wakes, and also
praying we’re wrong about Ella’s propensity to bury her traumas.
However I know my prayers haven’t been answered as soon as I walk into my rooms and discover that Ella is not only wide
awake, but standing in the middle of the room instructing her dressmaker to sew sleeves onto her ballgown to cover her
bandages. In the midst of all the excitement I actually forgot the masquerade was tonight – but Ella, it seems, did not.
She smiles at me in greeting, but I can only glare in return. “What in the Goddess’s name do you think you’re doing?