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.

disappear into the restroom to change. I

modesty is too deeply ingrained to

Sinclair does – and I’m definitely not

dressed, though

go downstairs together, Sinclair carrying me

day, but it isn’t enough to free me of

all gather around the breakfast table, the men analyzing these

and me feeling like an outsider

I can’t begin to understand. It’s not

of my depth.

do you think, Ella?” Sinclair asks, turning his blazing

more than half an hour, debating

respond to

gnaw on my lower lip thoughtfully, trying to ignore the

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

husband?I mean the Princess is dead,

some other Alpha, right?” I clarify.

he doesn’t

her to be gallivanting around another territory with another

point.” Henry praises, maintaining a straight-faced

he’s not giving out false compliments. “Maybe

the

trying to understand their motivations, we can simply leave

corrupt and respond without playing into their

some sort of

be able to spin ourselves out of the hot seat and

them – where it

distract the pack

Hugo nods approvingly.

hand in support, but when I look

I think it’s the best hope

situation

of course not.” Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need to

this is all fucked six ways

feel

something bothering me and I just can’t put my

on it.”

you’ve been saying from the beginning that Princess Angeline’s

a political scheme.” I

too unimaginative to have orchestrated.” Hugo

eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and then he clenches them shut,

into a fist and

isn’t too unimaginative?” Sinclair

faces.

while Prince

more than a trophy, he’s not the type to impulsively destroy one

But Lydia wouldn’t have any reservations about getting the Princess

of the way.”

think you are?” I gape, both certain

believe my

crazy as it seems, what other explanation do we have?”

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

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

case for rogues or vengeance

by Damon. But poison? That’s a woman’s

a political scheme you would think the royal

her death and spun the details in a way that benefitted the

Damon looking sympathetic.”

“Instead it just seems…

“If it was planned, then why haven’t they jumped on