Accidental Surrogate

Accidental Surrogate Chapter 358-Ella

I push my suspicions aside as I come to Cora’s side as she explains to Conner – the bright, red-haired young man who noticed that the men who attacked me didn’t transform into their wolves – our plan.

“Sure,” ,” he says, blinking up at both of us when Cora asks if he’d be willing to let me try to heal him with the Goddess power. “Um,” he says next, hesitating a little, “does it hurt?”

“Um,” I reply, rubbing an anxious hand up and down my arm, “I don’t think so? But then again, I’ve only tried it on myself?” I look over at Cora to see if she has any ideas, but she just shrugs.

“Consider it a very experimental treatment,” Cora says, turning back to Conner. “But I think Ella is right – it never seemed to hurt her before, when she used it. Or that one time I used it. But if it works!” she gives him a big smile now, “I think you will be a very happy little guinea pig!”

“Guinea pig?” he asks, confused. “Will I is this going to transform me into a guinea pig!?”

“No,” I say, laughing and sitting down on the edge of his bed, reaching for his arm, which he pulls away from me in sudden anxiety. “Seriously!” I say, laughing still. “That’s just a common phrase – you don’t know it? Maybe it’s a human phrase. For like, a creature who gets experimented on first.”

“Oh,” Conner says, relaxing a little but still looking at us warily. But then he nods, letting us know that he’s on board. “Just a lot of strange….magic, I guess, these days. Magic that I don’t think we’ve had a lot of exposure to before.”

“You’re telling me,” Cora murmurs, checking some final details as she runs a hand over her stomach, which is hosting what we can best describe as the first human-wolf hybrid pup ever conceived.

Conner doesn’t get it, but I do, and I give her a bright grin, which she returns. “Okay!” she says. “Conner, can we try it on the burn on your arm?” she asks, pointing to the gauze on his right forearm. “I think that’s a minor enough wound that it could be a good place to experiment.”

“Okay,” he says, moving to unwrap it. I lean eagerly forward, but regret it immediately when he pulls the gauze away, wincing as he reveals an angry, wet red wound. I sit back again, grimacing at it, reminded again of why I didn’t become a nurse. But then I steel myself and sit closer, looking up at Cora. “How do I start?”

says, waving

not to be doing anything to engage with the wound, I reach out and hover my hands over Conner’s

wounded, or growing a child, or stressed in any real way. This time, the relaxation comes almost immediately and I find myself sinking quite deeply into that space where the light behind my

but working hard not to distract me too much. “You’re glowing. Now, do you feel like you can direct

breath and, when I exhale, I begin to seek for pain. I feel the gift move then, as it’s done before – it sweeps through me first, seeking to heal anything, but when it doesn’t find anything

little bit, like the time

gift into someone’s hands before I collapse under the weight of it. But instead, like I can just take a piece of it, and move it forward to

begin to feel a very real pain in front of me, radiating up towards my hands. And so I give it a little

gasp, and Conner inhale sharply, but I do my very best to

them in my lap, and take a few deep breaths as I allow the lavender light to fade behind my eyes.

jaws wide open. “Did it work?” I breathe, curious. And neither say a word, so I dart my eyes downward

my own

His wound it’s…

bring it closer to my eyes. And as I study it I realize that the wound is not

really, honestly looks as if it just healed it. On Conner’s arm is a new patch of flesh, still

staring at it, and then up at Cora,

his eyes, I burst into joyful laughter myself, hardly able to believe it. And then Cora lets out a shriek

she stumbles over the words. “It’s incredible! Ella! Think of what