Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

“I think she’d be dying to be more involved in the clinic,” I respond instantly, looking down at my chicken with broccoli and picking up a morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical experience. Would she really be helpful there? I think that she would do anything – but she’s got a big heart,

”

need most.”

“I wasn’t thinking about administration,” Hank says, swirling some noodles around his chopsticks. “And it’s true that she doesn’t have medical experience, but she does have…healing experience.”

I cock my head at him, confused.

“Or more precisely healing powers,” Hank clarifies quietly.

“Our mother’s gift?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

He shrugs a little. “It was incredible, what she was able to do to herself twice now. To bring herself out of that coma that should have killed her. And then I saw her, before my eyes, almost instantly heal wounds that should have incapacitated her for days. If she were able to harness that power… Or, Cora,” he says seriously, meeting my eyes now, “if you were able to harness that power…”

“Oh,” I say, my mouth going to a little “o” as I lower the takeout to my lap. I had honestly never thought of it – of leveraging my mother’s power for the practice of medicine. It seemed somehow… too sacred, too special, to be used to heal bumps and bruises. But could it, should it, be used to cure people on the edge of death, like Ella had been?

Could it be used to fight things like terminal cancer, or deadly wounds?

My skin starts to tingle at the possibilities, but I’m wary. I mean, I gave the gift back to Ella – and our mother gave it to her in the first place. It’s hers to use as she wishes.

But if I had it, would I use it differently than Ella might?

“Sorry,” Hank says softly. “Did I…was it wrong to suggest it?”

“No,” I say, snapping my attention back to him. “Um, but it’s a bigger question than just I can answer. We’ll have to ask Ella.”

“Well,” Hank says with a smile, “now that she’s feeling better, maybe we can have that conversation soon. If the gift can truly heal…she could help a lot of people. Quickly.”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning at him, excited. “And it’s not like she’s got anything else on her plate at the moment.”

“Well, neither do we,” says Hank, pushing his takeout aside and moving across the couch to me, taking the container of food out of my hands and putting it on the table next to me. “At least, not for the next twelve hours or so, until we have to go to work.”

I laugh lightly as he moves his body over mine, bringing his face close to me and slipping a hand behind my back.

“Whatever shall we do?” I murmur, happy as I let Hank use that hand on my back to lay me flat on the couch. Then I close my eyes as Hank brings his mouth to mine.

#Chapter 312 – Reinforcements

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Cora

Hank and I are tangled in the sheets of my bed, talking softly to each other about nothing, when suddenly I hear a pounding on my door – a dangerous, feral, fervent sound.

–

“What the hell is that,” Hank gasps, sitting up and whipping his head to look towards the front of

my apartment.

“I–I don’t know “I stutter, fear racing through me. The pounding halts for a moment and we both sit there, frozen, not knowing what to do. Then, suddenly, a voice breaks through the silence.

“Cora!” it shouts, and my jaw drops a little because…well, because I know that voice. “Open the

damn door, Cora!”

“Oh my god,” I murmur, standing up and wrapping my naked body in my sheets – weirdly bashful in this moment. As I do, the pounding starts again.

“Do you know who it is?” Hank asks, hurriedly getting out of bed and pulling his pants on

“Yes,” I breathe, quickly switching the sheets for my robe hanging on the back of my door and

then rushing through the living room. “It’s fucking…”

But Hank, standing at the doorway to my bedroom, sees for himself the moment I pull the door

open.

Roger’s fist is still raised as my door flies open, but he drops it as he glares down at me.

“God damn it, Cora,” he growls, storming past me into the apartment, “don’t you ever check your

pho-

He freezes and goes silent, though, the moment he sees Hank standing in the doorway to my bedroom, pulling on his shirt. And then Roger turns slowly and looks at me, taking me in from head to toe in my bathrobe. He doesn’t say a word, rendered, apparently, speechless.

“What are you doing here, Roger?!” I hiss, filling the void that his silence left as I slamming the door shut and stalking forward to give him a shove. “You scared the hell out of us!”

“Cora, damn it,” Roger growls, snapping out of his shock and turning his attention to me as he blatantly ignores Hank. “It’s a crisis – Ella and Sinclair have been blowing up your phone for an

hour –”

—

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“What?!” I gasp, looking all over – and then finally spotting my phone, wedged between the pillows of the couch. I dash to it and grab it and see that Roger is right that Ella has been calling me for the past hour, as well as sending texts. I quickly flick through them, glancing at Roger as I

1. do.

–

“What’s what’s this all about “I stutter in fear, my heart suddenly in my throat. I can’t grasp the whole situation – but there’s something about Rafe, and kidnapping, and a note “Is the baby –”

–

“He’s fine for now,” Roger growls, moving close to me and wrapping his hand around my upper arm, “but they need you. It’s something about the sperm bank, they think they want to talk to you about what happened that day –”

1100k up at 1, SIUCkEU. Vildt? ne spe

mayo!?

“Yes!” he almost yells. “God, Cora, let’s go – you can ask all of these questions in the car!”

I sense his fury, his worry and his impatience, but all it breeds in me is defiance. “Fine!” I shout.” God, Roger, give me ten seconds! Obviously I’m coming!” I rip my arm from his hand and glare at him as I move towards my bedroom door, giving Hank a not–too–gentle nudge back into the bedroom and closing the door behind us.

“What’s going on?” Hank asks, all steady cool and deliberation. I glance at him, my stomach warming. At least he’s good in a crisis. I hand Hank my phone as I move to my dresser. “Can you give me a summary of Ella’s texts as I get dressed? I can’t do both at once.”

Hank nods, brisk, and does as I ask, reading some of the texts aloud to me, skipping through the ones that he deems less important. Overall I get the gist and my heart wrenches to think of what my sister is going through as I hurriedly pull on some sporty leggings and a t–shirt. After all that she went through with the pregnancy, I had thought this was over for her –

“Cora!” Roger shouts, banging on my door, interrupting one of Hank’s readings. “Seriously!? What’s taking so long! Let’s go!”

“I’m COMING!” I shout towards the door, fed up with his impatience. “God damn Alpha bullshit…” I mutter as I pull on my sneakers, not bothering to tie the laces. Then, I stand up, tucking my hair behind my ears as Hank crosses the room to me and hands me my phone, lifting one hand to my face.

“That’s a pretty good summary of the messages,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb over my cheek and looking into my eyes. “Are you going to be all right? Is there any way I can help?”

“No,” I sigh, lifting my hand to cover his and shaking my head a little. “Thank you, Hank, but –”

“Cora!” The yell and a single pound comes again and I realize, suddenly, that of course Roger has wolf hearing and is using it to spy on our conversation.

I glare at the door, hate in my eyes, but then I nod towards it. “Come on,” I say, moving away from Hank. “We’d better get moving before he rips it down.”

“I’m not going to rip it down,” I hear Roger growl, disgruntled, but I just roll my eyes and pull the door open.

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“Ready?” I ask, breezing past him.

“I’ve been ready,” he snarls, walking swiftly to keep up with me. We pass through the door together and then awkwardly wait for Hank to catch up.

“Thanks, Hank,” I say, giving him a smile as I lean down to lock my apartment door. “For the food and…the nice time.”

“Anytime, Cora,” he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice even as I concentrate on my keys. “You’ll let me know how it goes?”

“Of course I will “I respond, turning towards him, but suddenly I’m almost yanked off my feet by someone grabbing my hand and tugging me with them.

“Oh my god,” Roger groans, hauling me away from Hank and down the hall. “Cora let’s go!”

Let go of me!

Ciy, Smackiу at mane, but it aves mommy. I remember to tum allu wave to Hank as we turn the corner towards the stairs. Hank awkwardly returns my wave as he watches Roger and I disappear.

Roger, predictably, does not let go of me and I almost have to jog behind him as he strides down the stairs and out to the parking lot where his car is still running.

“Is Rafe being kidnapped right now?” I ask, angry, moving fast towards the passenger seat when he lets go of my hand. “What’s the rush?”

“The rush,” Roger replies, glaring at me as he and I simultaneously sink into our seats and close the doors behind us, “is that our nephew is in danger, and our siblings want us there now.”

“Fine,” I reply, sneering at him a bit as I buckle my seat belt. “Drive on. Try not to get us killed on the way.”

Roger doesn’t reply, just peels out of the parking lot and heads down the dark road at breakneck speed. I’m pinned back into my seat but am surprised to find that I’m not at all scared. Somehow, I trust Rodger’s reflexes and his driving skills. I trust that he knows what he’s doing.

“God,” Roger says, rolling down the window and huffing out a breath of disgust.

1

“What?” I ask, inclined to be angry but curious about what he hell could bother him now. He got me into the car in less than five minutes, didn’t he? What could possibly be wrong?

“You smell like him,” Roger growls, revulsion and…something else thick on his words. “He’s all

over you. Gross.”

I stare at Roger for a second, appalled, and then I can’t help the little smile that creeps onto my lips, despite everything.

“Don’t be jealous,” I murmur, my words barely audible as I turn to look out the window and watch

the scenery pass.

But with that wolf hearing? I know he hears me. And I see the effect of my words in the window’s

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reflection as I watch him flinch. 3

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