Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Ella

As soon as the Prince catches sight of Sinclair and I, his eyes flash with obvious rage. I can tell he’s surprised to see us here, though he must have known I survived the hunt. When none of his rogues returned to confirm my death, he would have immediately realized what happened. Still, I’m sure he expected Sinclair to do exactly what he just suggested, and keep me home at all costs.

Despite his fury, the Prince quickly covers his emotions and stalks toward us. I can feel Sinclair vibrating with dangerous energy, and I lean into him, letting him feel my warmth and breathe in my scent. He’s making low grumbly sounds, though not the kind he often makes when he’s kissing or scent marking me, which let me know his wolf is pleased. These are very different: sharp and vicious, hinting at barely contained aggression.

“It’s okay.” I whisper. “He can’t do anything here.”

“I’ll kill him.” Sinclair snarls under his breath. “You need to leave, before this gets ugly.”

I can tell Sinclair is no longer in control and I know his wolf is urging him to protect the baby even if it costs him the campaign. Of course, killing the Prince would get rid of the competition, but I don’t think it would comprise very good optics for a future King. I don’t understand enough about shifter society to know for sure, but my instincts are telling me that a death match on one of the most sacred days of the year is a bad idea.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I answer firmly, digging in my heels.

“Ella, I wasn’t asking.” Sinclair snaps, pinning me with his most intimidating gaze.

The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I feel the sudden urge to cower before the predator towering over me, but I can’t bring a pup into the world without Sinclair, and I’m not going to risk him being thrown in jail or exiled. “You can threaten me and punish me however you like.” I remark coolly, pretending that my knees haven’t completely turned to jelly. “But I promised not to leave your side, and I meant it.”

Sinclair’s powerful arm squeezes my waist, pulling me even closer against him even though our bodies were already flush. He drops his lips to my ear. “This is not the time to test me, little human.”

Sinclair, forcing him to pull me back and keep his hands occupied holding me in place, rather than ripping

my body. I lean my back into Sinclair’s chest, encouraging him to wrap his arms around me and rest his palms over the baby.

my head, using his connection with the baby to make his voice echo in my mind. He compliments me even as he promises to punish me for my interference, and I reach back to run my fingers through his silky hair, soothing him even though I’m making myself the target of his outrage. You’re in so

two.” The Prince grins, creating a conniving, cruel expression.

gently, an audience is forming around us, drawn in by the magnetic pull of watching two competing alphas. “It’s amazing isn’t it? You’d think people would have gotten bored of us by now.”

for me to focus on the Prince’s response. I

taste – especially among

answer boldly, speaking loudly enough for our onlookers to hear. “But weren’t you a commoner until your father became King? It seems awfully callous to write off so many people just because they haven’t been as lucky as you. After all, that’s why you’re in this position – isn’t it? Luck?”

Sinclair’s foot, needing him to shut up before I become so aroused that the entire room can smell my desire. Of course, he only responds with a low chuckle. That might work if you weighed more than a field mouse, little one. But that’s okay - I

but he’s in the same position as Sinclair, trapped by convention. “I wonder if you might release her

think so.” Sinclair growls, before I can respond. “Ella is struggling with morning sickness, too much spinning on the dance

mouth. I’m wishing I could speak to him through the baby, the way he does with me, but I also know that the more intimate we appear

he can’t have

He thinks I’m a dumb commoner, I might be able to get information from him he wouldn’t admit to you.” I reason. “And it would look good to the council. I doubt they want it to appear like theres a risk of civil war

Sinclair complains in my head. I need you to be safe.

I need you to win, and you can’t do that if we make a scene

for his questing tongue. I’m sure the Prince is still standing behind us, impotently waiting for us to reach a decision. We pay him no