All Chapters of The Alpha’s Accidental Surrogate : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Ronan's POV“It's never your place to feel sorry for what happened if there was nothing you could do to change the situation.”One of the lessons King Charles hammered into me earlier on.I was a little over twenty then. Thought I knew everything.When he told me this, he’d just lost his Beta in a rogue ambush. The man had been beside him since he was seventeen.Charles didn't shed a tear at the funeral. Not publicly. Not even when the Beta’s son saluted him, voice cracking as he held back grief.Later, I asked how he kept it together.His reply wasn't anything spectacular, or so I thought at the time.I also thought he was heartless. I didn't realize that was how he survived the loss.And now? Now, I understood him too well.Because every time I stopped moving, even for a breath, I could feel the pull of helplessness.I wasn’t allowed to panic. Not yet.Not without bringing her home.Even if I lost myself in worry until then.The second I caught my reflection in the mirrored bar disp

Lisa's POVThe room was spinning when I came to.At first, I thought I was dreaming — my limbs heavy, tongue dry, breath coming in short, erratic gasps. My eyes blinked open slowly to the pulse of an overhead bulb flickering in and out of life.Then realization crept in…The walls were bare.The scent of rust and mold filled the air, laced with something else, like gasoline or damp wood. There was no window, just a vent buzzing softly above.I tried to move. That was when I realized my wrists were bound behind me. A sharp ache spread from my shoulders, and the back of my neck felt bruised, as if I’d been yanked like a rag doll. My knees were knocked together. The metal chair beneath me groaned as I shifted.Panic came slow, like a tide rising, inch by painful inch.Then cold metal pressed against my temple, and I couldn’t tell if the shaking was mine or from the tremble of the hand holding the gun.“Call him,” the voice growled, breath hot against my cheek. “Get Ronan here. Now. Or you

Lisa’s POVWarmth curled around me like steam as his hands moved to my wrist again, soft and sure, lathering soap in quiet, circular motions.I couldn’t tell what made my skin buzz more… the gentle heat of the water, or the way Ronan’s touch was everything I needed right now.He was kneeling beside the tub, sleeves rolled up even higher. His stubble looked more pronounced now that we were so close. His hands guided mine through the water, one hand, then the other, his motions were without fault.“You missed the event,” I murmured, watching the ripple trail he made in the water. “It was... a whole thing.”He lifted his eyes to mine, lips twitching. “I didn’t plan to. I was already halfway there when ‘you know what’ happened.”He paused for a moment, as if thinking of his next words. Then he added: “Why? Anything I missed?”I started, voice lighter than I felt. “Welllll. Selena tried to take the spotlight from me. Can you imagine, she tried to lock me in a storage closet when I stepped

Lisa’s POVIt was soft at first. Then deeper. Slower.Like the world had finally stopped fighting us and, just this once, decided to listen.His lips were tender, but the kiss wasn't.It was intense, like something breaking open, spilling out every unspoken thing we’d both shoved down between banter and stolen glances. It was hungry too, like he was claiming space on my soul I didn't know I’d been saving for him.The tension that had wrapped around my lungs finally loosened as I leaned into him, into his warmth, into every part of him I hadn't let myself need until now.He kissed like he meant it.And I kissed him back because I couldn't hold it in anymore. I had fallen for him without even realising.His hand slid up my back, pressing me closer, the other warm at my waist, grounding me as my fingers curled into the collar of his pajama shirt. Silly. Soft. Intimate. His santa hat had long fallen over and nothing else mattered.It was our first kiss. I had no idea if he meant for it to

Lisa's POVDr. Johan’s office was nothing like I expected.For someone who supposedly specialized in werewolf pregnancies and supernatural medicine, I’d pictured something gothic. Dark bookshelves. A fireplace with a suspicious glow. Maybe a skull or two on a desk.I mean… I thought the same about Ronan’s estate too. Maybe I needed to re-evaluate my assessment of werewolves. They'd strangely been more normal — in tatse at least — than most humans I'd met.He waved us in with an odd flourish of his clipboard, his coat flapping behind him like a cape. Once seated, I finally got a good look at him and realized he wasn’t nearly as old as I’d assumed. Maybe early forties, tops. Clean-shaven, round glasses sliding down his nose, and a kind of energetic bounce to his steps like he’d been holding in a joke all morning.“Now,” he said, once I was settled across from him and Ronan stood behind my chair, “before I poke around anywhere, I need context.”“Context?” I asked.“Context,” he repeated,