Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

Chapter 311

Chapter 311 – Cora at Home

Cora

When I wake up it’s almost eight at night and I groan, realizing that my sleep schedule is

completely wrecked. I’m reminded, suddenly, of my years as a medical resident when this sort of thing was normal – sleeping all day, taking night shifts, living moment to moment rather than a steady, scheduled life.

And quite frankly, right now? That sounds really wonderful, compared against a whole night of empty hours in which I have nothing to do but… think.

Think about what I’m doing in my life, think about my career which has gone in a really weird direction, think about my relationship…s.

About a certain kiss in the woods.

About a sweet doctor who, apparently, wants to build a life with me.

I sigh and sit up, looking around at my sterile little apartment. I never really decorated, I realize as

I look around at the grey and beige furniture, the simple linens, the charmless curtains. Everything is functional and high quality but none of it is… me?

Or is it?

I frown at my space, thinking of Ella’s sweet home that – even though Sinclair picked out most of the furniture before she moved in – still sings Ella Ella Ella in every corner. It’s warm and sweet

and comfortable. What does my space say about me?

I mean, I’m an orphan – I never had any possessions or any control over the environments in

which I lived, so where would I have learned to decorate? I never had a mother to show me how

So where did Ella…

rolling my eyes at myself, sick, again, of being

she has what she wants in her life. But

pick it up the first thing I see is one of those relationships I’m trying to avoid leaving me an assortment of

Cora – how did the baptism go? Dinner later?

Cora? You okay?

2

Hey, send me a text when you get up – I know you

heard from you.

I swipe the messages away and click through the rest of my phone, trying, determinedly,

Not a peep. As I

this is a little pathetic, but I’m outside.

your apartment door…

when I see that. Hank. He’s being

what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change anything. And there’s a man standing outside my door

of my

to it, I yank

large bag of Chinese on the little mail table I keep outside my

say, bright, cheerful – maybe too bright, too cheerful. “I’m so sorry,” I continue, smiling at him, “I just woke

warm smile. “I get it – you

leaning against my door frame and gesturing towards my little apartment. “I am…well, I am starving,

he says, his lips turning up a bit at the corner. “That sounds

down the fort at the little free clinic we both work at, seeing both prospective mothers as well as general ailments from humans and wolves who

was, apparently, a busy day with some tricky cases. I watch Hank closely as he tells me his story, my eyes flicking over his handsome, serious face – his thick

something that makes me…well, makes- me want to jump across the couch and

blink and focus on

myself and forcing myself to listen to his words. Then, I grimace a little. I’m sorry, Hank,” I say, giving him an apologetic look. “I got….lost in my

hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back. “I was just curious

respond instantly, looking down at my chicken with broccoli and picking up a morsel. “But she doesn’t

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