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 “Why adhere to outdated traditions just because that’s the way things have always been done?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.”

in shock. I know I have scant seconds before Sinclair will appear and snatch me away from the Prince so he can attack, so I offer the tyrant in front of me my widest smile, hoping it will convince Sinclair I can handle

little fear I truly fear. “Growling at breeding she-wolves half your

words, I’m going to get rid

to growl back at him. I don’t care if he’s threatening me, but the idea that he’s threatening my pup makes me want to rant and rage – to destroy him no matter

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 I let the people around us see my fear or anger

flutters when I see him,

laugh, “It’s only

ripple of laughs around the room as he sweeps me into his arms. We spin away

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

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

dance floor.” Sinclair 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

rogues after me.” I relate, peeking up at him. “He threatened me and the baby, told me to leave

face. Still, I 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

assure him, leaning close so he can feel

Sinclair, despite everything I’ve been through.

delicious shivers down 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

yes or no. There’s something strangely addictive about his dominance, and I’m still aching for his touch. At the time I thought the longing would pass

me stay calm when I was completely out of control. You don’t deserve a punishment, if anything you deserve to