Accidental Surrogate for Alpha-Chapter 357
Posted on February 08, 2025 · 1 mins read
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Ella wasn't kidding when she said there was a lot to do for the wounded men. I honestly underestimated her—or she's a much faster and better worker than I am. I fall into bed at the end of each day completely exhausted, asleep before Sinclair can even say goodnight.

The boys are busy too, and I feel sorry for Cora and Roger. They should be enjoying a newlywed, newly-pregnant love bubble, but instead, she's spending all day healing the wounded while he's trapped in a boardroom with his brother and father, trying to defeat my estranged uncle.

"How can you feel sorry for them?" Sinclair asked as I took a break to feed Rafe. He comes to spend these stolen moments with me, knowing they're some of the only times I can sit and concentrate on something else for a few minutes. "It's not like you and I got to enjoy any kind of love bubble."

"Yes, we did," I said, frowning. "Dominic, we had so much sex in those first few months when we discovered I was pregnant—"

"Sure," he said sarcastically, furrowing his brows. "Between me accusing you of stealing my sperm, the constant attacks, and having to flee the country—yeah, totally a peaceful love bubble."

I laughed, shaking my head and looking down at my sweet, hungry baby. "I don't know," I said, shrugging. "It was wonderful to me. Maybe I just forget the horrible parts as a side effect of pregnancy—like how mothers forget the pain of childbirth, or they'd never do it again."

Sinclair moved closer, putting an arm around me so Rafe and I could lean against his broad, muscled chest. "Or," he murmured, "the pleasure was so good it completely overshadowed the pain."

"Oh, yes," I murmured back, smirking. "Clearly, Dominic, the sex was so good I barely remember my near-fatal injuries."

He laughed, shaking his head, and we both shrugged it off, knowing it didn't matter. We wouldn't trade any of it for something different. It was all worth it.

I kept that in mind as I spent hours trailing behind Cora, tending to the men who sacrificed their health to save my son. The hours felt endless—changing bandages, administering medicine, checking on their recovery.

I was shocked, especially by Cora sending three men away because she couldn't care for them. Some of these men seemed to be doing pretty poorly; it's baffling to think some were even worse.

"Should we send some of these men to Hank, Cora?" I asked late one afternoon, wiping sweat from my brow. "Can we really handle this?"

"We should keep them here unless they need critical care," Cora said quietly. "Hank—and all the other hospitals—are overwhelmed by the war. These men are on the mend, if slowly. Roger and Sinclair brought enough medicine. I know it looks bad, but," she sighed, looking around the room, "they'll get through it."

"Should it be taking this long?" I whispered, concerned. "Roger and Sinclair…"

She nodded, biting her lip. "I don't know. I'm used to our mates' fast healing too, but Ella, they're both remarkably powerful specimens."

"I heal fast too," I murmured.

"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "Probably the goddess blood."

"Your blood too," I murmured, poking her shoulder.

She nodded, but looked over the men with concern. "It does seem to be taking longer than I expected…" she sighed, looking at her clipboard. "Maybe there was something in the spell designed to inhibit healing…"

"If only we all had a little goddess blood," I murmured. "It seems unfair." Cora looked up suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"Actually," she said, cocking her head. "Well, can you, Ella?"

"Huh?"

"It goes back to something Hank said once," Cora said, excited. "On the night he came over to my—" she hesitated, blushed, and I knew exactly which night she meant. I grinned, and she swatted at me. "Seriously—he asked if you might want to go into medicine, to use our mom's gift to heal people—"

"Oh," I said, surprised. I looked down at myself ridiculously, as if I could see the gift floating around inside. Then I frowned, wondering.

"Do you think you could do it?" Cora asked, excited and breathless. "I don't know," I said, looking up. "I've only used it to heal myself. Do you think it can go… outward?"

"Well, we know it can go outward—you gave it to me, and then I used it… I don't know… to communicate with everyone."

"Yeah," I said, frowning. "But was that healing?" Cora shrugged, and we both laughed at our stupidity.

"Honestly," I murmured, "Mom could have given us instructions, couldn't she?"

"Not her style," Cora sighed. "But Ella… what do you think? Does it feel like you could?"

"I don't know," I wondered, pressing my hands to my chest where I felt the warm glow—so familiar I often forgot it was there. "But maybe we should try?"

"Okay!" Cora said, excited, and she started flipping through her paperwork, trying to choose the best candidate. But as she narrowed down the selection, I felt my wolf nudge me, anxious and suspicious.

"What?" I asked, feeling her anxiety. "What's wrong?"

Not right, not right, she thought, circling the injured man protectively. Why is that man asking questions about our gift? It's our gift. It's not his gift. He can't have it.

I blinked in surprise, wondering the same thing. What was Hank doing asking Cora questions about my gift on their date? Was he being a good medical professional, identifying an incredible power for good, or was he asking for… other reasons? Was my wolf suspicious because Henry suggested we be wary of Hank? Or is the act of asking suspicious in itself?

Cora whipped her head up, grinning excitedly at one of the men. "This one is perfect," she breathed, hurrying toward his bed, signaling me to follow.

I hurried after her, eager to help—and suddenly, guilt washed over me. Didn't I just promise Cora I'd trust her instincts about Hank?

But my wolf continued to prowl, and I didn't know where the suspicion came from. Was I being paranoid, or was Hank asking weird questions to the woman least likely to suspect him?