Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

#Chapter 75 - The Prince Slips Up

Ella

As the Prince and I move around the dance floor, I’m only too conscious that every eye in the room is on us. Of course, none of those eyes weigh on my shoulders so heavily as Sinclairs. I’m working hard not to accidentally send him any signals that I need to be rescued, but it isn’t easy – especially after the Prince just confronted me with one of the many lies I’ve been telling.

“That’s not surprising.” I bluff. “I lived a quiet life before coming here.”

“There’s quiet and then there’s nonexistent.” The Prince mutters bleakly. “And forgive me but I find it highly suspicious that you made absolutely no impact on your prior pack. After all – one would expect a she-wolf qualified to be Luna to have a high profile.”

“Believe it or not,” I begin, deciding to tell at least one truth tonight, “but I didn’t find my strength until I met Dominic. He’s helping me recognize that my power was always there, but sometimes it takes seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes to appreciate the parts of ourselves we take for granted. So, no I didn’t have a high profile in the Bloodbane pack.”

The Prince scoffs. “I wouldn’t be so quick to admit that, Ella. Just imagine what the council would think if they knew.” His tone implies advice, but his eyes glint with an obvious threat.

“I’ll gladly tell them myself.” I counter coolly, “I’m not ashamed of my past, and I think people need leaders who can be honest about their journeys. No one starts out in this world as a force of nature; they become one after being molded and weathered by the elements. Dominic and I are examples of how even the strongest of our kind become so through resilience and strife, as well as the people with whom you surround yourself – not blind ambition.”

The Prince has been keeping his voice low, no doubt afraid of being overheard, but when I continue to speak at a volume guaranteeing others will hear our conversation, he loses his temper. “Would you keep your voice down?!”

“Why, don’t you want people to know our positions?” I counter, feeling an unfamiliar spike of adrenaline. Is this how hunters feel when they know they’re closing in? When they’ve got their target cornered. “Don’t you want them to be fully informed before the election?”

“That isn’t how things are done!” The Prince snaps, forgetting to whisper now.

“Well maybe it should be.” I answer coldly. “Why adhere to outdated traditions just because that’s the way things have always been done? Being done doesn’t mean they’re right or effective.”

and I see the wolves around us rear back in shock. I know I have scant seconds before Sinclair will appear and snatch me away from the Prince so he can attack, so I offer the tyrant in front of me my widest smile, hoping it will convince Sinclair

this is exactly what I mean,” I beam, mildly surprised at how little fear I truly fear. “Growling at breeding she-wolves half

he can hiss in my ear, “You dumb bitch, I don’t know how you survived last night, but mark my words, I’m going to get rid of you and that brat you’re growing one way or another. You should leave while you still can, if you stay I guarantee your days

instincts to growl back at him. I don’t care if he’s threatening me, but the idea that

how important it is for me to continue looking calm and unintimidated by

appears in our path before I can lose control and snap back the way I want to. He suddenly steps into our path, all rugged good looks and raw power. My belly swoops and flutters when I see him, and the next thing I know, he’s extracting me from the Prince’s arms. “I’m going to

been

me into his arms. We spin away on the dance floor, leaving the Prince

we’ve left our audience behind and I’m swaying safely in Sinclair’s arms, does he drop his

hesitantly. “I’m not sure

in his voice that tells me he’s not merely jesting. He might have chosen the words to make me laugh, but I can tell he needs to know the truth if he’s going

rogues after me.” I relate, peeking up at him. “He threatened me and the baby, told me to

around us, staring daggers at anyone who sets eyes on me –like

him, leaning close so he can feel

despite everything I’ve been through.

Even as I revel in his warm tone and terms of endearment, his earlier threats are still ringing in my ears, and I

hoping he says yes or no. There’s something strangely addictive about his dominance, and I’m still aching for his touch. At the time I thought the longing would pass

“You kept me from making a terrible mistake. You helped me stay calm when I was completely out of control.

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