Page 1 of The Alpha's Surrogate
Chapter 1 - Josie
“Get her in the car quick. She can’t die here.”
“Why do you care? We could just bury her under four feet of snow,” says the man with the white fur coat. He’s mean and angry and impatient. “No one knows where she is. No one is going to come looking for her here. If they wanted her found, they would have come searching months ago.”
“I know, Garry, I know,” says the blond man with a powerful jaw. “Still, we can’t afford to make mistakes with the damned wolves. They leave us well enough alone, and one of them dying here could complicate things for us.”
“But nobody knows she’s he—” the dangerous man in the white coat begins to say.
“Enough!” the blond man thunders. “Now get her in the car. That’s an order.” His eyes are hard and angry, and his voice is colder than frost.
I start crying and my mother puts a weak arm across me, consoling me. “Shush now, my dear. Shush. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” She’s afraid. I can smell her fear, rolling out of her like smoke from a campfire, washing over me.
Garry turns around and hisses. Mother apologizes, her voice raspy, like two papers being rubbed together. Garry mutters something under his breath, and then tugs on his gloves.
The blond man is watching us impatiently. He can tell that my mother’s life is slipping through her fingers. I can feel it too. I know she’s not going to make it through the night. I think she knows it too.
Garry bundles us out of our perch in the cold, damp corner of the room where our cot is located. He throws a filthy rag blanket over Mother’s shoulders and I’m glad for the added layer of warmth.
He leads us through a few narrow corridors, my mother struggling to keep up. The blond man marches on in front of us, shoving onlookers aside as we follow in his wake.
The sun seems far-off in the sky. It could be a painting for all the heat it’s giving off. I can hear my mother’s teeth chattering in her mouth, her will to keep me safe the only thing keeping her going. I can feel it.
Garry shoves us into the back seat of his truck and jumps into the passenger seat as Blondie peels away into the forest.
Blink.
Garry shakes Mother roughly awake. “Hey, wake up. We’re here. You better not be dead, or I swear I will toss your worthless body off a cliff.”
Blink.
“Cut that shit out, and get them to the house!” Blondie appears behind Garry. He looks pissed.
Mother doesn’t open her eyes and Garry is about to hit her. I cry. Her eyes flutter open and she smiles weakly at me. “Shush now, my dear. Shush.” She rocks me and looks out the window, past Garry, and then she smiles. “Shush now, we’re back home. We’re home now.”
Garry’s face twists in disgust. He pulls her out of the car, and shoves her toward a massive house. We’re barely halfway to the front door when it slams open. An elderly man rushes forward and stands at the top of the stairs, staring down at us.
The man is gray and old, but he looks strong, like a man in his forties. There’s a mix of anger and fear on his wrinkled face as he looks from face to face. Blondie gestures at Garry to stay back and climbs alone to meet the old man.
“What’s this?” the old man hisses. “Is that my daughter?”
Blondie glances back at us. “You must be Larsen. I’m Klaus. I’m a bear from the other side of the mountain.”
“I know,” Larsen spits. “I could smell you from a mile away. Why are you with my daughter?”
“Act first, ask questions later,” Klaus chides the old man. “She just gave birth, and it was…complicated. I think she’s dying. She told us where to find you and we brought her back.”
“What?” Larsen’s old eyes focus sharply on me. He’s about to speak again, but Klaus holds up a hand.
“Act first, Larsen,” Klaus says. “She needs a healer, but even I fear it may be too late.”
“You will explain yourself,” Larsen says, rushing down the stairs to get me and Mother from Garry. “You will explain how my daughter came to be with were-bears, and how she managed to conceive while in your care. And for your sake, I hope your explanation is adequate.”
Blink.
I’m curled up in a room with my mother. Her breathing is hard, her heartbeat is irregular, and she has a wet cough. Her body is burning hotter than magma, searing me with its heat, but I don’t mind.
There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be. I know she won’t make it past the night. I’m safe now. She has done her duty to me. She can go now. I know she’s waiting for me to fall asleep before she goes on.