Accidental Surrogate

Roger and I are quiet the next morning as we go through our breakfast routine in the kitchen. It’s not an awkward sort of quiet, just…us thinking our own thoughts while staying very close to one another.

We stayed up late last night, first attending to the baby. Roger was heartbroken, too, that our barely- formed child was already worried about something – and that it’s all our fault. So we spent a good long time passing him comfort and happy thoughts down our bond, letting him feel reassured. When he finally drifted off to what we call sleep even though, honestly, it’s probably not an accurate term Roger and I took a deep breath and finally got back to the real conversation: what the hell we’re going to do.

But, of course, we didn’t come up with any solutions. Because our past experiences in the last, barely-finished war have already made it clear to us that trying to make plans? It never works.

So we eventually fell asleep holding each other close, whispering promises to put each other and our family first, even as the nation and its people ask us for more.

“That’s weird,” Roger murmurs, flicking through his phone as he leans against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand.

it, “the fact that you’re actually reading your messages?

his eyes up to me and smirks, but shakes his

me not to come in until this afternoon. Says he needs to sleep.” My eyebrows go up in surprise. “Wow, slacking on the job, so early in his reign.” Roger laughs a little and tucks the phone away in his pajama pocket. ” Nah, something’s up,” he says. “He wouldn’t take a sick day unless he needs it. Do you think it has something to do with Ella? That crazy dinner she went to last night?” My eyes widen as I consider it. ” Maybe,” I say, reaching for my own phone, hoping maybe she texted to fill me in. But I scowl when the screen comes up empty. And then I turn my head to the side a little, curious… Because it’s not like Ella to not send me ten texts in the morning – general greetings, pictures of Rafe, selfies of

the shower needs to be regrouted “That bathroom is brand new, Cora- “Or the garbage disposal keeps making this really weird noise -” “You’re imagining that,” he murmurs, pulling me sharply closer. ” Or it’s haunted, which is also something I can’t do anything about.” I laugh, nudging his nose a little with mine. “Well then, there is a problem with the bed -” “Oh really?” he says, bending a little and wrapping his hands around the back of my thighs before standing up straight and taking me with him. I grin and wrap my legs around his waist, leaning back a little so

” This sounds serious – we’ll have to investigate this right away

morning off, so much so that we’re still laying in bed chatting hours later, all wrapped up in each other. I slip my fingers through his hair, only half listening as he tells me more about his and Sinclair’s plans to create an Alpha Academy to train young wolves to be officers in the war, staring at the shape of his moving lips and marveling

alert, his arm wrapping around me as he pulls me beneath him a bit, his lips peeling back over his teeth as he growls at the door, tense and waiting for more hints about exactly what “Cora!”

she -” “Speak for yourself,” he murmurs, leaning back against the pillows. ” She’s the one bursting into our house it’s her own fault if she sees something she doesn’t want to see – ” But I just stand up and throw his pajama pants at him before moving

scowling at me, annoyed, one hand still on the door