Accidental Surrogate, Chapter 371: Unleashing the Flame

Ella

I fell into a daze as I watched Hank work, holding my sleeping baby. It wasn't that I wasn't paying attention; I just didn't understand what they were doing or saying. It all seemed like quiet, repetitive work.

I did focus when Hank deemed Cora patched up enough to roll her onto her side for an ultrasound. Cora moaned as the nurses moved her—a sound that pained me yet thrilled me with hope. As much as I hated hearing my sister in pain, at least it meant she was alive. I watched carefully as the nurses held her still while Hank expertly spread clear jelly on her stomach and searched for a heartbeat. A few moments later, when he found it—a fast, faint fluttering—I buried my head in my hand. My little niece or nephew, still fighting.

I looked up to see Hank nodding to his nurses as Cora was lowered back onto her belly. He then removed his gloves, crossed the room, and crouched so we could be face-to-face.

"You saw?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, nodding sharply. "The baby is alive, but—"

"Right," he said, glancing at Cora. "It's not preferable for a mother to be so gravely wounded so early in pregnancy. Frequently, the body will decide…" He sighed, shaking his head, searching for the right words. "The body will sometimes decide, Ella, to prioritize the mother."

"So, miscarriage…" I said, looking at my sister.

"There's a higher risk, yes. Ella," he continued, his voice curious, drawing my gaze back to him. "Did Cora ever mention the possibility…"

"Yes," I nodded, knowing where he was going. "I can do it, Hank, but the people who hurt us in the woods—" I shook my head, realizing he wouldn't understand if I talked about priests in dark robes and the God of Darkness. "As we were escaping, they bound my gift and my wolf," I shrugged. "I tried to heal her in the car, but I couldn't access the gift."

"Really," Hank said, surprised. "So you can actually heal people—heal wounds like that?"

I narrowed my eyes, disturbed by his curiosity. What was he really asking?

"Sorry," Hank said, raising his hands. "I'm just a doctor, Ella. I try to fix bodies. The idea of wielding medicine like that—it's a dream. But forgive my professional distraction."

I sighed and nodded, my eyes returning to Cora.

"Well," Hank said, standing and looking at Cora. "It would help Cora and the baby if you could…unbind the gift? I know a lot about wolf biology, but not much about the religion or magic. Is there a way around this? Perhaps one of the priestesses of the Goddess, your mother? Could they help you…reconnect with her? Ask for her aid?"

My eyes flashed. Hank might have stumbled onto something.

"That's a really good idea, Hank," I said, standing. "Can I use a phone, please?"

He nodded toward the computer and phone in the corner. "Of course, Ella. The entire facility is at your disposal." He glanced at Cora. "I'm going to run some tests," he murmured, taking a deep breath. "Let's update each other if we have news."

I nodded eagerly and carried Rafe to the computer, where I searched for the temple's contact information, hoping the priestesses could help.

Sinclair

The priest swept a fist forward, baring his teeth as he sent a sheet of flame toward us. Roger, mid-leap, took the brunt, yelping and turning as the fire singed his fur but didn't deeply burn him.

I crouched defensively, roaring in pain as the fire curled around my clothes and skin, a searing touch that quickly passed. Cringing at the sound of my men behind me taking the flames, I returned to Roger's side.

"I'll do it again," the priest gritted, glaring. "I will burn you until your charred skeletons are all that remain—"

"You won't," I snapped, stepping closer. "Or you would have by now."

Frustration flashed in the priest's eyes. Roger, understanding, bared his teeth and prowled forward.

"You're weakening," I said, advancing as he slowly backed away. "I don't know why. Maybe you burned out your energy on that illusion below—maybe your magic was amplified by your connection to the other priests. They're all dead, by the way."

The priest flinched. "It doesn't matter," he snarled. "I will take you out, and your men will fall without their leader—"

I shook my head. "No. They fight for more than me," I said, my hands itching to become claws, my teeth aching to be fangs. But I held back, wanting to keep him talking. "Even if I died, they'd fight to defend their Luna, their future King."

The priest laughed hysterically. "Wasted," he said. "Your Luna is dead, Alpha, as is yours, and your pathetic little mutt with her." He laughed, turning to Roger.

Roger lunged, but I grabbed him. We still needed information—about his master.

"And what will happen to you when you are dead?" I said slowly. "Who will mourn you? This master to whom you've sold your life?"

"The Master is nothing anymore," the priest said, his back against the wall. He crouched, his flames burning hotter. "The Master is gone. He has his boy, and our service is done. If I die today, it is the will of the Dark God. And I," he said slowly, his face lit by the flames, "I will relish his gift of death."

With a scream, the priest unleashed his flames, attempting to take us all with him. Roger roared, leaping toward the fire, but I was faster, my wolf surging forward to take the brunt of the flames.