#Chapter 208 - 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."

"I said go away." He barked again, and Cora thought she heard something smash.

a man in such a state, and though his harsh words and angry tone sent nervous tremors through her body, she couldn't help herself. She turned the door handle and warily opened

it had been. Now it lay 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

ears?" Roger snapped, appearing in the door to the bedroom. He was shirtless, dark trousers 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

her mind, suddenly wishing she’d come earlier. Roger was clearly in very bad shape, and she wasn’t sure if he was a threat to her in this condition. "I'm sorry." She stammered, trying and failing to look at anything but the mess or his contoured muscles. "But, from the looks of it,

course I'm not doing well!" 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 brother is dead." Roger reminded her - as if she could forget.

she knew better. The last thing you're ever supposed to do with an irate wolf is behave like prey, and here she was flooded with adrenaline and contemplating flight.

grief is messier than yours." Roger sniped, closing

even care? I thought you were never speaking to

wasn’t planning on it,” She admitted, "but given what

I was celebrating?" Roger suggested coldly, still prowling forward until Cora had no choice but to back away, her shoulder blades colliding with the door. "I finally got what I wanted right? Dominic out of the way and the pack in

be quite so..." She trailed off, trying to find the

think I'm some sort of monster? Isn't

it!" Cora hissed, trying to cease the shaking in her voice. "I know what you're doing Roger and you

and drinking in her scent. Cora's stomach flipped, and she could smell the whisky on his breath. "I can taste your fear, little human. That's how strong

eyes shut. "Because I know

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