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.

loungewear and disappear into the restroom to

ingrained

and I’m definitely not changing in front of

emerge, Sinclair is also dressed,

Sinclair carrying me despite my protests.

but it isn’t

all gather around the breakfast table, the men

low, serious voices, and me feeling like

not that they

of my depth.

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

for more than half

respond to

on my lower lip thoughtfully, trying to ignore the flash of emotion

habit. Releasing my swollen

with Lydia’s husband?I mean

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

he in all this? Even if he doesn’t want her anymore,

to be gallivanting around another territory with another

praises, maintaining

he’s not giving out

this the

understand their motivations, we can simply leave it at

corrupt and respond without playing

they’ll be expecting some sort of countermove

able to spin ourselves out of the hot seat

–

them busy and distract the pack by rustling up her husband and

nods approvingly. “Good idea,

when I look over, his

like it. I think it’s the

situation just doesn’t

not.” Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need

tell you this is all fucked six ways to

feel like

drying. “Therę’s something bothering me and I just can’t

on it.”

saying from the beginning that Princess Angeline’s

a political scheme.”

too unimaginative to have orchestrated.”

widen almost imperceptibly, and then he clenches them

into a fist and swearing up a storm.

too unimaginative?” Sinclair growls, scanning our

faces.

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

he’s not the type to impulsively destroy

But Lydia wouldn’t have any reservations

of the way.”

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

believe my

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

back and forth behind the dining

and beat her to death, I wouldn’t question it. And

could make the case

But poison? That’s a

it was a political scheme you would think the

details in a way that benefitted the campaign

Damon looking sympathetic.”

“Instead it

planned, then why haven’t they jumped on