Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Chapter 129 – Ella Plays Politics

Ella

“What the hell are you doing?” The Prince snaps, his usually cold features alight with rage.He storms

forward, aggression pouring off him in waves.

“Nothing!” Lydia squeaks, whirling around and adopting an innocent expression. “I–she…” The she-wolf

stammers, red faced and shaking.

“You’re the one who went on and on about leaving the bitch unharmed so as not to further provoke

Dominic!” Prince Damon rumbles furiously. He looks down at me with cold disinterest, and I

immediately recognize that I’m dealing with two very different kind of monsters here. Lydia is pure

cunning and lacks any sense of conscious, she’ll do anything and hurt anyone to achieve her goals.

The Prince however, he gives off the energy of a man who enjoys hurting others – not as a means to

an end, but for the pure pleasure it inspires.

I look back to Lydia, still too angry to bite my tongue and wanting his attention anywhere but on me. “Or

maybe she just meant those rules for you. I get the sense she expects special treatment – even above

royalty.”

I watch as my word lands, feeling more than a little smug when Prince Damon sneers. “Leave us.”

Lydia gapes, horrified to be ordered away. “But–”

“I said leave.” He repeats fiercely. Lydia hurries out grumbling under her breath, and my heart clenches

with newfound anxiety. Maybe it was my inner wolf, but I felt the strongest compulsion to challenge

Lydia, to establish dominance. Of course, I feel no respect for the Prince, but my instincts warn me that

he has no qualms about hurting me. In fact, I’m sure he would enjoy it. Lydia might want to harm me,

but she attempted to show restraint in the interest of avoiding Sinclair’s wrath, but I have the

impression the Prince has never had an impulse he didn’t indulge.

At the same time, I don’t want to show him any weakness. Next to Sinclair, he’s nothing, and the more

my wolf comes out, the more determined I feel not to submit to anyone but my mate. So instead of

cowering, I give him my defiance. Notching my chin up, I glare at the despicable man. “This won’t work,

you know.” I tell him, wondering if I’ve lost my mind. “Dominic will never give up the campaign for me.”

“You doubt his devotion so much?” prince Damon remarks, arching a brow.

“Would you have given up the throne to save your mate?” I ask curiously, a new idea occurring to me

now. If I can sow discord between Lydia and the Prince, maybe I can distract them enough to escape.

He doesn’t have any clue that Lydia is probably responsible for the Princess’s death, but if anything

could tear them apart – that will.

“Of course not – but Dominic is a sentimental fool.” The Prince chortles to himself.“We are a completely

different caliber of wolf.”

“I agree.” I state simply, knowing he probably won’t catch the inference that my mate is far superior.

“Though I am sorry for your loss.” I share, channeling the sympathy I feel for his motherless children, if

not for himself. “It was such a shocking death – and poison!” I exclaim. “What kind of man deploys such

a cowardly weapon? Do you have any leads on the suspect?” I worry I might be laying it on too thick,

but when he doesn’t bat an eye, I know I need to press harder.

“I’m not here to talk about Angeline.” He grits out, beginning to pace back and forth in front of me. “And

if you think you can help yourself by playing on my own loss, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“That wasn’t my intention.” I refute honestly. “I just thought it was interesting that she was killed in such

a feminine manner.”

“Feminine?” He repeats, bewildered. “Are you saying you think a woman killed her?” His eyes narrow

and too late I realize that he’ll probably a*sume I’m trying to take credit, “You?”

“Of course not!” I hold up my hands. “I’ve been on bed rest, and besides, why would I help your

campaign? I don’t stand to gain anything by making you a winner.”

I hope I’ve said enough to get the gears working in his tiny brain. I don’t want to come out and accuse

Lydia. He’ll a*sume I’m making things up to distract him or help myself somehow. Of course, that’s

exactly what I’m doing, but it’s also true. He needs to reach the conclusion on his own.

“Then who?” He inquires, as if I’m not the one who’s been asking the questions.

“Well, who would benefit?” I ask simply, folding my hands in my lap. I try to telepathically force Lydia’s

name into his thoughts, but I’m not sure it’s successful.

He pauses thoughtfully, then he shakes his head, disappointing me. “I don’t have time for this. I came

to tell you not to get any bright ideas about escaping. We’re calling a meeting with Dominic. If he

agrees to our ransom then you’ll be back home in no time, so just sit tight and behave yourself. We

even brought your things for you from the scene of the accident.” He gestures to the go-bag I’d taken to

the safehouse, which now sits on the bureau.

“The accident?” I repeat coldly. “You mean the kidnapping? How did you even cover it up? A

confrontation of the size, with all that noise?”

He snorts, “The pack was under lockdown, and we it was on a block in the commercial center with no

residences.”

“How did you even know we’d be there?” I hiss.

“We set up a full perimeter around Sinclair’s mansion, we just got lucky with the route you chose. There

were no witnesses to silence, and we cleared it so well no one will ever know anything happened

there.”

I cross my arms over my chest, beyond outraged that he’s getting away with so much violence and

corruption. All the while Sinclair plays by the rules, even though the odds are stacked against him. I

once asked him why he didn’t publicly accuse the Prince of his crimes, and he merely answered that

we didn’t have a leg to stand on without proof. The Prince would call it a smear campaign and Sinclair

would look weak for lobbing accusations rather than taking action to stop him. There are just some

things I’ll never understand about wolves, but I suppose I know better than to think an accusation can

stand alone. How many powerful men in the human world have actually been held accountable for their

crimes when there isn’t evidence against them?

“Fine. I won’t do anything stupid.” I finally agree. “Is that all?”

“For now.” He says, looking me up and down one final time before stalking out. “And Ella,” he adds,

pausing at the door. “If you do try to get away… I will make you regret it.”

“I believe you.” I reply, smothering the urge to shiver.

When he’s gone I creep after him on tiptoe, hoping I might be able to hear something through the door.

Sure enough, after a few moments I hear his voice raised with Lydia’s as they argue in the hallway.

“She doesn’t think it will work!” He growls in an accusatory tone.

“Of course she says that. She’s trying to throw us off. Besides, we know this was a possibility.” Lydia

counters reasonably. “If he refuses the ransom and tries to stage a rescue we’ll simply plan another

ambush. Either way, we get rid of him.”

“This had better work.” The Prince snarled.

“It will, you’ll see, Damon. You can trust me.” Lydia simpers, and I can imagine her batting her lashes at

him.

“Can I? It seems you’ve been getting a lot of perks out of this friendship of ours.” He observes, and a

flash of triumph pulses inside me.

“What are you suggesting?” Lydia’s offended voice replies.

The Prince growls, “I’ve got my eye on you.” I hear his footsteps retreating, and then Lydia’s shaky

breath.

Just in case she decides to come back, I move away from the door, heading straight for my go bag. I

don’t think I have anything inside which might help me out of this situation, but it’s worth double

checking.

I pull out my clothing and toiletries, doing a quick inventory of the items. I shake my head with

disappointment as I sort through the bag, but there at the bottom is the ornate tin holding the herbs to

trigger my wolf’s awakening. I’ve been keeping them with me at all times – just in case – and when we

packed for the safe house I tossed in the tin, I clasp it tightly in my hand, wondering if I’d somehow

known I might need to defend my life in the near future.

I press my hand to my belly, feeling guilty for even considering it. I’m not in any imminent danger,

though I am terrified about what I just heard between Lydia and the Prince. I know our situation just got

incomprehensibly worse, but I’m not so desperate that I think I need to waken my wolf. At least… not

yet.

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