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.

grab some loungewear and disappear into the restroom to change. I might be

human modesty is too deeply ingrained to allow me

I’m definitely not changing in front

Sinclair is also dressed, though much more formally than I

downstairs together, Sinclair carrying

is improving more and more every day, but

yet. We all gather around the breakfast table, the men

low, serious voices, and me

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

of my depth.

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

been going around in circles for more

to

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

observes the nervous habit. Releasing my

Lydia’s husband?I mean the

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

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

gallivanting around another

Henry praises, maintaining a

out false compliments. “Maybe we’ve

the

of trying to understand their motivations, we

and respond without playing into their

sort

might be able to spin ourselves out of the hot seat and

– where it

busy and distract the pack

approvingly. “Good idea,

when I look over, his features are

with worry.”I still don’t like it. I think it’s the

situation

not.” Hugo scoffs, “You don’t need

tell you this is all fucked six ways to

I feel

“Therę’s something bothering me and

on it.”

beginning that Princess Angeline’s

scheme.”

Prince is too unimaginative to have orchestrated.”

eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and then

fist and swearing up a

too unimaginative?” Sinclair

faces.

Prince Damon might

he’s not the

wouldn’t have any reservations about

of the way.”

think you are?” I gape, both certain

to believe my

other explanation do we have?” Sinclair inquires, rising

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

wouldn’t question

could make the case for rogues or vengeance for some

poison? That’s a woman’s

a political scheme you would

her death and spun the details in a way that benefitted the campaign

Damon looking sympathetic.”

agrees. “Instead it

was planned, then why haven’t they