The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Chapter 207

Chapter 207 – Cora Comforts Roger

3rd Person

Cora wasn’t sure what she was doing.

Her sister needed her, so why was she walking away from Ella’s suite? Why wasn’t she offering to help make arrangements for a funeral, or trying to help Henry convince the stubborn Luna to accept her loss and focus on caring for herself and the baby? Why was she determinedly walking the same path she had only nights before, when she’d been vulnerable and reckless enough to seek out Roger?

Because you’ve lost your damn mind. She thought bitterly. Worrying about a man who doesn’t deserve your time or attention – someone who betrayed his own family and endangered Ella’s life. So what if he’s gorgeous and clever, so what if he understands you even better than you understand yourself… and makes your stomach go all soft and squishy everytime he looks at you with those fierce wolf eyes… he’s still a scoundrel. He can’t be trusted.

But despite Cora’s confused inner musings, she was worried. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Roger since the news broke about Sinclair’s death – and that was three days ago. Ella may not have realized it, but after she collapsed the doctor sedated her for a full 72 hours, and Cora knew that was part of why this was such a struggle. Ella was waking up as if his death had just happened, but the rest of them had been battling through the last few days without her. They’d exhausted every possibility, every hope, and eventually accepted what Ella could not.

When she reached Roger’s rooms, Cora knocked softly, unsure if he was even there. However her question was soon answered, when a bitter growl sounded from somewhere inside. “Go away!”

“Roger, it’s me.” Cora called, fighting back a quiver of fear. “I just wanted to check on you.”

again, and Cora thought she

breath, Cora summoned all her courage, briefly wondering if she’d lost her mind. She knew better than to interfere with a man in such a state, and though his harsh words and

in ruins – every piece of furniture had been broken or toppled, every decorative vase and framed portrait smashed and ripped. Papers and shards of glass, pottery and wood fragments littered the floors, making

slung low on his hips, muscles rippling on his abdomen and arms. His dark hair was tousled and a thick layer of stubble swathed his cheeks. In his balled fist he held a half empty bottle of dark brown

to her in this condition. “I’m sorry.” She stammered, trying and

Roger bit, taking a swig from the bottle and stalking forward. He trod over the debris as if he didn’t even realize it was there, and Cora winced as glass and splinters dug into the soles of his bare feet. Blood seeped out to blend in the wreckage, and Cora gulped as he drew nearer. “My baby

prey, and here she was flooded with adrenaline and contemplating flight. “Not like this.” Cora managed

is messier than yours.” Roger sniped, closing the door behind her and

I thought you were never speaking

“but given what happened I… I

coldly, still prowling forward until Cora had no choice but to back away, her shoulder blades

for you to be quite so…” She trailed off, trying to find the right word before

I’m some

in her voice. “I know what you’re doing Roger

demanded, lowering his head to her neck and drinking in her scent. Cora’s stomach flipped, and she could smell the whisky on his breath. “I can

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