Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

Cora

After a few minutes of this – or maybe an hour, I honestly don’t know how time works here – the baby’s happiness fades away and then into silence. But not in a bad way – more like he just…

“He fell asleep,” Roger murmurs, laughing a little and falling back on the bed, taking me with him since his arms are still wrapped around me.

“It’s too early for the baby to sleep…” I murmur, confused. “That happens around like, the seventh month -”

“All right, Dr. Cora,” Roger mutters, and I can hear him rolling his eyes, even though I can’t see it, which makes me laugh. “Considering that we’re hanging out on a magical dream beach, passing our emotions down a magical bond with our unborn child, I don’t really think that your medical knowledge is coming into play here -”

“Oh shut up,” I murmur, slapping his chest and sighing with contentment. Roger laughs and takes a deep breath of my scent.

“That was amazing,” he whispers. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.”

“Do you think we just felt it because we’re here?” I ask, still likewise thrilled. “Or, will we feel it when we’re awake too?”

“I don’t know,” Roger replies. “But maybe something about being in the dream amplified it. I guess we’ll find out.”

“Yeah,” I say, happy, content. Because as much as I want to feel it all the time, I am also content to wait, to experience all parts of this pregnancy in their own time. “I guess we will.”

And I close my eyes and relax against my mate, little shivers passing through me as he traces his fingers idly over the skin of my back, both of us still marveling in the magic of that incredible first connection with the baby.

But suddenly, something changes. And I open my eyes to see my wolf standing there on the beach, just a short distance away.

I say softly, starting to sit up. He opens his eyes and looks where I’m looking, likewise catching sight of my wolf in the sand, staring at us, her tongue

sitting up and holding me close against him.

her fur, from

me, she says – and I know, instinctually, that Roger hears

each other, laughing. Because neither of us feel an ounce of fear, even though this is completely bizarre. When we’re standing,

we follow, walking quickly, both dying to see what she’s leading us

towards us. Roger laughs as his wolf dashes over to us and eagerly presses his head to Roger’s

Roger murmurs, shooting me a grin before his wolf comes to

my shoulder and can completely encircle

running my hands through his warm fur. Roger laughs

you he was annoying,”

up to his for a kiss. But before our lips can

have no idea what is happening,” Roger

say,

a little patch of green bushes and again

stands proudly at her

bundle of fur sleeping there on the beach in front of me, nestled lovingly into a little soft bed of leaves. Roger almost collapses next to me, his hands hitting the sand hard – I think saving him from falling flat on his

out towards the incredibly perfect, incredibly tiny little wolf

barely feel the brush of fur against them – though not completely, as if he’s still half out of

her voice full of love and pride. He is not big enough. But

moans wordlessly as he reaches out too, to try to touch the tiny infant pup, and I feel his own shock and disappointment and joy and wonder as he, too, just barely feels the ghost of fur

we haven’t met our baby yet this…this is his wolf,