The Alpha's Surrogate
Nina was in the passenger seat, humming along to a song on the radio and munching on chips she swore she wasn’t going to eat.
We were supposed to make a quick run to the East Ridge border — drop off a pack of moon herbs for Beta Lorne. Nothing dangerous, nothing exciting. Just a sister errand.
But Nina never let anything be boring.
“So,” she said, crunching loud enough to make me glare, “how’s your little love story going?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start what?” she grinned, kicking her feet on the dashboard. “You’re the one texting him every two seconds. Nigel this, Nigel that. ‘Oh, he sent me a moon emoji, maybe he means—’”
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