Surrogate For Alpha Dom

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

my human modesty is too deeply ingrained

does – and I’m definitely not changing in front

dressed,

downstairs together, Sinclair carrying me despite my protests. My

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

We all gather around the breakfast table, the

voices, and me feeling like an outsider

not

of my depth.

Sinclair asks, turning his blazing emerald eyes to

in circles for more than half an

to

gnaw on my lower lip thoughtfully, trying to

Releasing my swollen lip, I sigh, “Do we

husband?I mean the Princess

Alpha, right?” I

is he in all this? Even if he doesn’t

her to be gallivanting around

praises, maintaining

he’s not giving out false compliments. “Maybe

the wrong

trying to understand their motivations, we can simply leave it at

without playing

expecting some sort

able to spin ourselves out

–

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

approvingly.

in support, but when I look over,

like it. I think it’s the best hope we

this entire situation just doesn’t seem

“You don’t need to

you this is

feel like

me and

on it.”

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

scheme.”

one the Prince is too

eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and

hand into a fist and swearing up a storm.

know who isn’t too unimaginative?”

faces.

easily. “And while Prince Damon might have seen

the type

But Lydia wouldn’t have any reservations about

of the way.”

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

believe my

seems, what other explanation do we have?” Sinclair inquires, rising

forth behind the dining table.

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

you could make the case

poison?

if it was a political scheme you would think the

spun the details in a way that benefitted the campaign

Damon looking sympathetic.”

“Instead it

Sinclair confirms. “If it was planned, then why