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.

is too deeply ingrained to allow

and I’m definitely not changing in front

dressed, though much more

Sinclair carrying me despite my protests.

day, but it

We all gather around the breakfast table,

low, serious voices, and

can’t begin to understand. It’s not that they exclude

of my depth.

think, Ella?” Sinclair asks, turning his blazing emerald eyes to

going around in circles for more than

to

lip thoughtfully, trying to ignore

observes the nervous habit. Releasing my swollen

happened with Lydia’s husband?I mean

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

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

for her to be gallivanting around another territory with

praises, maintaining a straight-faced expression

giving out false compliments. “Maybe we’ve been

the wrong

motivations, we

and respond without playing

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 it

pack

Hugo nods approvingly.

support, but when

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

situation

not.” Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need to

to tell you this is all fucked

I mean, I feel

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

on it.”

the beginning that Princess Angeline’s

scheme.” I contribute

too

almost imperceptibly, and then he clenches them

a fist and swearing up a storm.

unimaginative?” Sinclair growls, scanning

faces.

supplies easily. “And while Prince Damon

trophy, he’s not the

any reservations about

of the way.”

think you are?”

to believe

crazy as it seems, what other explanation do

and forth behind the dining

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

case for

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

scheme you would think the royal family would

in a way that benefitted the campaign

Damon looking sympathetic.”

agrees. “Instead it just seems…

planned, then

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