Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 118

Ella

I’ve been replaying my conversation with Henry all day long, repeating the exchange over and over in my mind and trying to decipher if the old Alpha was trying to want me as a mere precaution, or because he really believes we have something to be worried about. After Henry left this evening I got online and started looking into the actual mechanics of the election – something I should have done from the very beginning.

It all looks fairly simple on paper. All eligible Alphas compete in the public arena and all the shifters in the realm vote on election day. This usually results in two or three frontrunners, and the Alpha council makes its selection based on the remaining competitors. If there’s a wide margin and a clear winner, they usually just reinforce the popular Vote, but when there are ties or controversies, they provide an important check on the system.

Once elected, the Alpha King will remain in power until they die, coronate one of their heirs, or are removed from power by council decree.

Historically elections are actually very rare, because most King’s belong to an existing dynasty and pass down the title through the generations of their children. As I’m reading, I discover that the current King is the only the third ruler in history to ever be removed from power, and his own election five years ago was the first in 200 years.

The fact that the wolves are already having another Vote is absolutely unprecedented.

The knot in my stomach tightens as all this information comes together. I realize that

Henry was right to warn me, after all.

“What are you frowning at so intently, trouble?”

Sinclair inquires, striding out of the bathroom and ruffling his wet hair with a towel.

Another Swath of terry cloth is slung around his hips, and water drips down his bare torso. My mouth waters as I take in the sight of his rippling muscles and powerful physique, but the heavy weight in my stomach is preventing my inner wolf from getting too distracted.

“Dominic, what will happen if we lose the campaign?” I inquire hesitantly, still sitting in bed with the computer in my lap.

Sinclair’s face pulls into a grimace, and he crosses the distance between us, peeking at my screen.

Seeing a dozen tabs worth of dry political research open in my browser, he slides his hand around my nape, massaging my tense muscles. “Doing some research?”

confirm gravely. “And I have to

cradling my head in his oversized

confusing and out of hand every day.” I

up.. it’s hard not to feel like something seriously sketchy is going on.

pauses, his hands

making you feel

Sinclair. “But I also don’t know who is pulling the strings here. I feel like we’re being swept up in something much bigger than us, and it scares

in understanding, “I’m

He admits, shocking me.

even closer and practically

me all

to take precautions I might not otherwise. It’s the reason I can’t accept defeat in It’s strangely comforting to

thighs and take his face in my hands. I stare up into his fierce green eyes, brushing my

to prepare for that. I

fears by putting new

his head to the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent and rumbling deep in his chest. “If I lose the campaign..” He begins slowly, his voice like gravel in

the Prince moves, and where we are when

and I nudge his head up, forcing him to look me

you must have

have dozens of contingency plans

for my imprisonment, my death, your capture. If you

help the fresh bloom of hurt that blossoms in

I thought we agreed

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