Accidental Surrogate

Trigger warning – mention of sexual abuse (not explicit)
Ella
I peek up at Sinclair from beneath my lashes, trying to gauge his frustration level. It’s obvious he’s displeased that I defied him,
but I can tell he’s also glad to be home after what was certainly a very long day. Moreover, I think my words to his father helped
assuage some of his guilt, and he’s feeling more affectionate towards me than he might have a few minutes ago.
“I have to say that I missed you?” I profess, sliding my arms around his neck. “And you’re the most handsome man in the whole
world?”
Sinclair flashes his fangs, emitting a dark chuckle and swinging my legs up into his arms. “Flirting with me isn’t going to get you
out of this, sweetheart.” He ducks his head and steals a kiss before mounting the stairs up to his room, “though it’s very cute to
watch you try.”
“Who said I was just flirting?” I object, leaning my head against his chest, “I really did miss you.”
Sinclair doesn’t pause as he carts me up to the fifth floor, never breaking a sweat or getting short of breath. The way he acts
you’d think I’m as light as a feather – though with his supernatural strength it probably feels that way. “I missed you too.” He
finally replies, pushing through the bedroom door. “I hate being so far from home when these things strike.”
“You must have had a really rough afternoon.” I observe, studying his drawn features and fatigued demeanor.
Sinclair drops onto the sofa, keeping me in his lap, “Rough is an understatement.” He sighs, sounding as though the weight of
the world is on his shoulders. Of course, this isn’t far from the truth. I snuggle closer to him, wishing there was something I could
do to ease the monumental burdens he’s shouldering. A contented rumble vibrates in his chest, and Sinclair smiles down at me.
“It’s getting better by the minute though.”
I tilt my face up to his, silently asking for a kiss. He arches a brow and for a moment I’m afraid he’ll reject my affection, but I
needn’t have worried. Sinclair lowers his lips to mine, and my heart begins to race. The moment our lips touch electricity zings
through my body, setting my nerve endings alight. It’s every bit as thrilling and all-consuming as the first time, and I quickly find
myself getting carried away in the experience. Unfortunately it ends much too soon. Sinclair pulls back, leaning his forehead
against mine and purring, “You can’t distract me with kisses either, little one.”
He grimaces, and I know I’m not going to like what he says next. “Besides, kissing is a gateway drug. We’ve got to try to stop.”
His arms tightened around me as he spoke, as if his body didn’t agree with his words – or maybe it was his wolf.

Adopting an innocent expression, I reply. “I have no idea what you mean. A gateway to what?”
Sinclair laughs, kissing me again even though he just said we shouldn’t. This kiss is longer than the first, because just like he
said, it’s getting harder and harder to stop the longer we continue. My blood heats to a sultry simmer, and wetness pools at my
center as Sinclair’s lips, teeth and tongue go to work, making me forget that anything exists outside of this moment. “Goddess,
why couldn’t you just be a wolf?” He breathes when we part.
A sharp sting punctures my elated mood, bringing me crashing back down to earth. It’s a crushing reminder that I’m not enough
for him – that I’ll never be enough no matter what I do. Seeing the hurt painted over my face, Sinclair winces. “Oh Ella, I’m sorry,
I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did.” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. “And you’re right – I’m not.”
Sinclair is shaking his head, looking miserable. “I didn’t mean that I want you to be anything other than what you already are –
just that it would mean we could actually be together, and I want that more than I can say.”
I nod, fighting back tears as I disentangle myself from his arms, and move to the cushion beside him. “It’s okay, Dominic, you
don’t have to explain.”
“I shouldn’t have said it.” Sinclair insists fiercely, reaching for me as if he wants to pull me back into his lap. He stops himself
when I stiffen, seeming to realize I need some space at the moment. “I’m truly sorry, Ella.”
I nod again, not meeting his gaze. If I try to talk about this now I’m sure I’ll start crying, not to mention I’m still so turned on that
I’m finding it difficult to sit still. The last thing I need is for Sinclair to know how excited my body is, when he’s just hit me in my
weak spot.
Sinclair’s nostrils flair, and his eyes begin to glow. I wonder if he’s scenting my arousal, but a moment later he’s cursing and
rising to his feet, “I’m going to go take a shower. You should try to get some rest. We can talk about your bed rest tomorrow.”
I watch him retreat into the bathroom, feeling strangely dismayed. Apparently flirting and kisses can’t get me out of trouble, but
acting like a wounded butterfly can.
That’s a good thing, right? It means we got away with it. Despite the statement, the little voice in the back of my mind doesn’t
sound pleased at all.
I know the feeling. Then why in the Goddess’s name am I so disappointed?

_________________
3rd Person
Across town, in the hallowed halls of the royal palace, the Prince sat in darkness.
The news of his wife’s death had been a blow, but the true outrage had come when he learned the medical examiner’s analysis.
They hadn’t conducted an autopsy yet, but the coroner had immediately declared suspicious circumstances upon seeing the
Princess’s body. Apparently there was some sort of rash on her skin, and the perfume bottle in her hand made him suspect some
kind of topical poison.
This was unacceptable. The Prince wasn’t an overly sentimental man, but his wife was his. The idea that anyone would have the
audacity to lay a hand on the Princess – on his property – was an unforgivable offense. He couldn’t believe that anyone would
dare to do something so brazen, and his rage was spiraling out of control. As soon as he figured out who was responsible for this
crime, he was going to make sure they paid in the most painful way possible.
He strode to the window then, glaring out at his city. His wolf was pacing back and forth in his head, positively rabid in grief and
fury. She hadn’t been his fated mate, but he’d claimed her all the same. And though he certainly had other lovers, the Princess
was always his favorite.
As Prince he could do anything he wanted with the she-wolves in his bed – whether they liked it or wanted to be there in the first
place. But none of the others responded so perfectly as his wife. It truly was like she was made for him – she cried when he
wanted her to cry, screamed in exactly the right way to make his blood sing, and she never fought or tried to put on a brave front.
While he stood there, growing hard just thinking about the way she’d begged him for mercy the last time they were together, a
shaft of light abruptly reflected in the window. The door was opening behind him, and a woman’s silhouette appeared in the
frame.
It took a moment for him to recognize Lydia, but once he did, he growled, “How did you get in here? I told my guards I wasn’t to
be disturbed.”
“I have my ways.” Lydia shrugged, striding into the dim study.
“What do you want?” The Prince demanded.
“I wanted to offer my help.” Lydia replied, taking on a gentle tone that didn’t suit her in the least. “I know what it’s like to have
someone taken from me.”

“Then you ought to know it’s too soon for you to be here.” The Prince growled. “It hasn’t even been 12 hours.”
“Maybe, but I didn’t think you would appreciate me keeping the information I possess to myself.” Lydia answered. “Since I know
who killed the Princess.”
The Prince surged to his feet, “Who?”
“Who else, but Dominic?” Lydia barely refrained from rolling her eyes, remembering who she was speaking to at the last
moment.
The Prince paused, not convinced. “Why would he? He has to know this will help my campaign.”
“I don’t think it’s about the campaign.” Lydia suggested slyly. “It’s payback. You’ve been trying to kill his mate, haven’t you?”
The Prince narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’m not an idiot. And neither are you – it’s exactly what I would do in your shoes.” Lydia shared.
“So you’re guessing.” The Prince observed. “Are you guessing about Dominic too? How do I know he’s actually behind this?”
“Because he threatened to kill me – his own fated mate – over the bitch and I never laid a hand on her.” Lydia explained.
“But why her, why not come after me directly?” The Prince demanded, admitting to himself that few other people would have the
motive to target his wife, even if he didn’t understand the bigger picture yet.
“He won’t risk the election. He thinks that if he steals the throne by force the Alpha Council will unseat him the way they’re
unseating your father.” Lydia related.
The Prince snorted, Sinclair and his father were one in the same. They wanted the power, but they weren’t willing to do what was
necessary to keep it. “And how do you expect to help me?” He groused, eyeing Lydia curiously.
“I know things about Dominic and the Sinclair family. I know their secrets, I know their weak spots – I know how they think. And
I’ll tell you everything – for a price.”
“And what price is that?” The Prince inquired.

“Protection.” Lydia stated simply, deciding that it truly was too soon to suggest he take her as his replacement Luna. All that
would come in time, right now she just needed to get her foot in the door. “If you keep me safe, I’ll make sure you win this
election.”
The Prince nodded, “You have a deal.”