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.

into the restroom to change. I might be

my human modesty is too deeply ingrained to allow me

and I’m definitely

dressed, though much more formally

carrying me despite

every day, but it isn’t enough to free

gather around the

serious voices, and me feeling like

can’t begin to understand. It’s not

of my depth.

asks, turning his blazing emerald eyes

circles for more than

respond to

on my lower lip thoughtfully, trying to

as he observes the nervous habit. Releasing my swollen lip, I

with Lydia’s husband?I mean the Princess is

to some other Alpha, right?” I clarify. When

all this? Even if he

her to be gallivanting around another territory

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

out false compliments. “Maybe we’ve been

the wrong

motivations, we can simply leave it

respond without playing into their

be expecting some sort of countermove to

but we might be able to spin ourselves out of the hot seat and refocus

onto them – where

them busy and distract the pack

Hugo nods approvingly.

when I

I think it’s the best hope we have, but

entire situation

not.” Hugo scoffs, “You

this is all fucked six

mean, I feel like I’m

something bothering me and I just

on it.”

beginning

political scheme.” I contribute

but one the Prince is too unimaginative

imperceptibly, and then he clenches them

hand into a fist and swearing up

unimaginative?” Sinclair growls, scanning

faces.

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

a trophy, he’s not the type to impulsively destroy one of his

Lydia wouldn’t have any reservations about getting the

of the way.”

I think you are?” I gape, both certain I’ve understood

to believe my

it seems, what other explanation

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

I wouldn’t question it.

the case for rogues or vengeance

Damon. But poison?

political scheme

death and spun the details in a way that benefitted

Damon looking sympathetic.”

“Instead it just

was planned, then why haven’t they