Accidental Surrogate

Ella

As the Prince and I move around the dance floor, I’m only too conscious that every eye in the room is on us. Of course, none of those eyes weigh on my shoulders so heavily as Sinclairs. I’m working hard not to accidentally send him any signals that I need to be rescued, but it isn’t easy – especially after the Prince just confronted me with one of the many lies I’ve been telling.

“That’s not surprising.” I bluff. “I lived a quiet life before coming here.”

“There’s quiet and then there’s nonexistent.” The Prince mutters bleakly. “And forgive me but I find it highly suspicious that you made absolutely no impact on your prior pack. After all – one would expect a she-wolf qualified to be Luna to have a high profile.”

“Believe it or not,” I begin, deciding to tell at least one truth tonight, “but I didn’t find my strength until I met Dominic. He’s helping me recognize that my power was always there, but sometimes it takes seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes to appreciate the parts of ourselves we take for granted. So, no I didn’t have a high profile in the Bloodbane pack.”

The Prince scoffs. “I wouldn’t be so quick to admit that, Ella. Just imagine what the council would think if they knew.” His tone implies advice, but his eyes glint with an obvious threat.

“I’ll gladly tell them myself.” I counter coolly, “I’m not ashamed of my past, and I think people need leaders who can be honest about their journeys. No one starts out in this world as a force of nature; they become one after being molded and weathered by the elements. Dominic and I are examples of how even the strongest of our kind become so through resilience and strife, as well as the people with whom you surround yourself – not blind ambition.”

The Prince has been keeping his voice low, no doubt afraid of being overheard, but when I continue to speak at a volume guaranteeing others will hear our conversation, he loses his temper. “Would you keep your voice down?!”

“Why, don’t you want people to know our positions?” I counter, feeling an unfamiliar spike of adrenaline. Is this how hunters feel when they know they’re closing in? When they’ve got their target cornered. “Don’t you want them to be fully informed before the election?”

“That isn’t how things are done!” The Prince snaps, forgetting to whisper now.

“Well maybe it should be.” I answer coldly. “Why adhere to outdated traditions just because that’s the way things have always been done? Being done doesn’t mean they’re right or effective.”

away from the Prince so he can attack, so I offer the tyrant in front of me my widest smile, hoping it will

I mean,” I beam, mildly surprised at how little fear I truly fear. “Growling at breeding she-wolves half your

in my ear, “You dumb bitch, I don’t know how you survived last night, but mark my words, I’m going to get rid of you and that brat you’re growing one way or another. You should leave while you still can, if you stay I guarantee

back at him. I don’t care if he’s threatening me, but the idea that he’s

protectiveness for my child. The problem is that it might cost us the campaign – I know how important it is for me to continue looking calm and unintimidated by the Prince. If

our path before I can lose control and snap back the way I want to. He suddenly steps into our path, all rugged good looks and raw power. My belly swoops and flutters when I see him, and the next thing I know, he’s extracting me from the Prince’s

only been a

me into his arms.

audience behind and I’m swaying safely in Sinclair’s arms, does he drop his lips to my ear. “What did he say

hesitantly. “I’m not sure I should tell you, not

jokes, though there’s a sharp edge in his voice that tells me he’s not merely jesting. He might have chosen the words to make me laugh, but I can tell he needs to know

peeking up at him. “He threatened me and the baby, told me

can picture him glowering at everyone around us, staring daggers at anyone who sets eyes on me –like a dragon guarding its treasure. “Don’t worry, Ella.” Sinclair rumbles, his strong hands caressing my spine. “I won’t let

you won’t.” I assure him, leaning close so he can feel my

Sinclair, despite everything I’ve been through. I know

my spine. Even as I revel in his warm tone and terms of endearment, his earlier threats are still ringing in my ears, and I have to wonder whether I

I thought the longing would pass with time, but it seems like my hormones

smile. “You kept me from making a terrible mistake. You helped me stay calm when I was completely out of control. You don’t deserve a punishment, if anything you deserve to be