Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

to not let it bother me that there’s nothing at all from Roger. Not a peep. As I take a deep breath and check my email, another message from Hank pops up.

Hank: Hey, are you home? I’m… I mean, this is a little pathetic, but I’m outside. Can you let me in? I

your apartment door…

My heart twinges a little bit when I see that. Hank. He’s being so sweet and I’m…well, I’m not being fair to him, am I?

Ella’s right. I’m holding a space for Roger, one he doesn’t even want – despite what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change anything. And there’s a man standing outside my door with mooshoo pork, dying to love me.

God, what’s wrong with me? Quickly, I jump out of my bed and dash for the front door of my apartment.

When I get to it, I yank it open, hoping

Hank jumps a little, his eyes going wide, accidentally dropping the large bag of Chinese on the little mail table I keep outside my door. “Gah!”

“Hi!” I say, bright, cheerful – maybe too bright, too cheerful. “I’m so sorry,” I continue, smiling at him, “I just woke up – we were up all night. It’s – I’m very sorry. I should have texted before I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Hank says, giving me his rare, warm smile. “I get it – you had a busy night.”

“Do you want to come in?” I ask, leaning against my door frame and gesturing towards my little apartment. “I am…well, I am starving,

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

As we sit on the house, the Chinese spread out around us on the coffee table, eating right out of the containers with the supplied chopsticks, Hank tells me all about his day. He held 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 currently don’t have access to their regular healthcare providers.

It 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 brown hair – his strong, capable hands-

And I feel something twist in my stomach as I watch him, something that makes me…well, makes- me want to jump across the couch and kiss him…

“Cora?” he asks, making me blink and focus on him. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” I ask, shaking 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 thoughts a little bit. Forgive me. Can you start again?”

“It’s okay,” he responds, giving me a little wink and reaching out to grab my hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back. “I was just curious if you think Ella would want to be more involved in the clinic.”

“I think she’d be dying to be more involved in the clinic,” I respond instantly, looking down at my chicken with broccoli and picking up a morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical experience. Would she really be helpful there? I think that she would do anything – but she’s got a big heart,

”

need most.”

“I wasn’t thinking about administration,” Hank says, swirling some noodles around his chopsticks. “And it’s true that she doesn’t have medical experience, but she does have…healing experience.”

I cock my head at him, confused.

“Or more precisely healing powers,” Hank clarifies quietly.

“Our mother’s gift?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

He shrugs a little. “It was incredible, what she was able to do to herself twice now. To bring herself out of that coma that should have killed her. And then I saw her, before my eyes, almost instantly heal wounds that should have incapacitated her for days. If she were able to harness that power… Or, Cora,” he says seriously, meeting my eyes now, “if you were able to harness that power…”

“Oh,” I say, my mouth going to a little “o” as I lower the takeout to my lap. I had honestly never thought of it – of leveraging my mother’s power for the practice of medicine. It seemed somehow… too sacred, too special, to be used to heal bumps and bruises. But could it, should it, be used to cure people on the edge of death, like Ella had been?

Could it be used to fight things like terminal cancer, or deadly wounds?

My skin starts to tingle at the possibilities, but I’m wary. I mean, I gave the gift back to Ella – and our mother gave it to her in the first place. It’s hers to use as she wishes.

But if I had it, would I use it differently than Ella might?

“Sorry,” Hank says softly. “Did I…was it wrong to suggest it?”

“No,” I say, snapping my attention back to him. “Um, but it’s a bigger question than just I can answer. We’ll have to ask Ella.”

“Well,” Hank says with a smile, “now that she’s feeling better, maybe we can have that conversation soon. If the gift can truly heal…she could help a lot of people. Quickly.”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning at him, excited. “And it’s not like she’s got anything else on her plate at the moment.”

“Well, neither do we,” says Hank, pushing his takeout aside and moving across the couch to me, taking the container of food out of my hands and putting it on the table next to me. “At least, not for the next twelve hours or so, until we have to go to work.”

I laugh lightly as he moves his body over mine, bringing his face close to me and slipping a hand behind my back.

“Whatever shall we do?” I murmur, happy as I let Hank use that hand on my back to lay me flat on the couch. Then I close my eyes as Hank brings his mouth to mine.