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.

and disappear into the restroom to change. I might be a

ingrained to allow me to

and I’m definitely not changing in front of

is also dressed, though much more formally

go downstairs together, Sinclair carrying me despite my

and more every day, but it isn’t enough

all gather around the

low, serious voices, and me feeling

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

of my depth.

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

circles for more than half

to this

thoughtfully, trying to ignore the

habit. Releasing my swollen lip,

Lydia’s husband?I mean the Princess is

to some other Alpha, right?” I

Even if he doesn’t want her anymore, it must

to be gallivanting around another territory with

a good point.” Henry praises, maintaining

not giving out false compliments. “Maybe

this the

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

without

expecting some sort of countermove to

we might be able to spin ourselves out of the

– where

and distract the pack by

Hugo nods approvingly. “Good

in support, but when I

don’t like it. I think it’s the best hope we

situation just doesn’t

course not.” Hugo scoffs, “You

this is all fucked six ways to

I feel like I’m

replies drying. “Therę’s something bothering me and

on it.”

from the beginning that Princess Angeline’s death felt

a political scheme.” I

one the Prince is too unimaginative to have orchestrated.”

almost imperceptibly, and then he clenches them shut,

and swearing up a

who isn’t too unimaginative?” Sinclair growls, scanning

faces.

supplies easily. “And while Prince

he’s not the type to impulsively destroy

any reservations

of the way.”

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

to believe my

crazy as it seems, what other explanation do

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

wouldn’t question it.

you could make the case for rogues

poison? That’s a

political scheme you would think the

details in a way

Damon looking sympathetic.”

“Instead it just

it was planned, then why haven’t they jumped