Accidental Surrogate

Ella

Hugo, Sinclair and I are all staring at the television with wide eyes and slack jaws,

unable to process the images flitting across the screen. It seems like every time we

manage to take a few steps forward, Lydia and the Prince find a way to send us

reeling back – and this is no exception.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Hugo expresses, obviously overwhelmed. “Why would

he risk losing the pack’s sympathy by parading around another Woman so soon after

his wife’s death?”

“Trust me, Hugo – Damon isn’t the one calling the shots here. This is all Lydia.”

Sinclair states gruffly. “She’s going to force her way onto the throne one way or

another. Right now she’s playing the doting friend, but mark my words, by the time the

election ends she’ll be in his bed.”

“How bad is this?’ I ask, looking up at Sinclair’s handsome face, “Does she have

information that could hurt you?”

Sinclair Squeezes my shoulders, “She knows some secrets.” He relates, “but luckily

nothing I could imagine as a smoking gun. In fact most of what she knows would be

more harmful to the Prince things like my father’s attack, Things the public believes

were accidents but our private investigators proved malicious.” His mouth flattens into

a hard line. “The real danger is that she knows how we think, how we operate. Not to

mention that the Prince doesn’t have more than two brain cells to rub together, but

Lydia has plenty.”

“So what do we do?” I ask anxiously, my head replaying the news reel over and over

again. “My bed rest isn’t common knowledge, and they’re making it sound like my

absence from the public eye is suspicious. Do we tell everyone about my condition?

Or do we make an appearance?”

“I’m afraid making an appearance might play right into their hands. This could be

some sort of attempt to lure us out of hiding.” Hugo advises, looking very grim indeed.

In the distance I hear the front door open and close – a fact which comes as quite a

surprise, since my hearing has never been so sharp before.

Wheels roll over the door jam, and then Henry’s voice floats up toward us, “Good

Morning!”

“Henry!” I exclaim, both taken aback yet unsurprised we stayed in bed so long.

Sinclair’s father has been coming over almost every day since we agreed to be

invalids together, and he’s been an invaluable help, since I learned my true identity.

grab some loungewear and disappear into the restroom

ingrained

– and I’m definitely not changing in front

Sinclair is also dressed,

carrying

is improving more and more every day, but it isn’t enough to free

yet. We all gather around the breakfast table,

voices, and me

I can’t begin to understand. It’s not

of my depth.

asks, turning his blazing

for more than half an hour, debating

to this

lip thoughtfully, trying to ignore the flash of

the nervous habit. Releasing my swollen lip, I sigh, “Do we

what happened with Lydia’s husband?I mean the Princess is dead, but

I clarify. When the men

in all this? Even if he doesn’t

gallivanting around another territory with another

good point.” Henry praises, maintaining a straight-faced

out

the

motivations, we

without playing into their

they’ll be expecting some sort

able to spin ourselves

them – where it

and distract the pack by rustling up her

approvingly. “Good idea,

support, but when I look over, his

still don’t like it. I think it’s the best hope we have, but

situation

Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need to

this is all fucked six ways to

feel like I’m missing

bothering me and I just can’t

on it.”

the beginning that Princess

scheme.” I

the Prince is too unimaginative to have orchestrated.” Hugo

almost imperceptibly, and then he clenches them shut,

into a fist and swearing up a

isn’t too unimaginative?” Sinclair growls, scanning

faces.

easily. “And while Prince Damon might have seen his mate

he’s not the type to impulsively destroy one of

But Lydia wouldn’t have any reservations about getting the

of the way.”

think you are?” I gape, both

to believe

explanation do

pacing back and forth behind the dining table. “If the Prince had lost

beat her to death, I wouldn’t question it. And if there was some

case for rogues or vengeance

by Damon. But poison?

it was a political scheme

spun the details in a way that

Damon looking sympathetic.”

agrees. “Instead it just seems…

“If it was planned, then