The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

The room goes very still and quiet.

For a moment, I think I might have misheard. Was the royal messenger talking about me? But why would the Lycan King want me?

Each year, every pack in his kingdom would select their most beautiful woman and send her to the capital. From among them, the Lycan King would select the ones that interest him most, who would then become part of his harem.

It's a great honor to be selected, although somewhat precarious, Rumors are whispered in the dark, speaking of the Lycan King's ruthlessness, as well as his insatiable appetites....

Though, oddly, there's never been any talk of children. Those favorable to the King vow it's because he is waiting to find his fated mate, and that she would be the one to bear his child.

I am neither the most beautiful woman in the pack nor anyone important. So I continue to wonder, why would the Lycan King want me as his property?

Unless he needs some kind of servant?

That's impossible," Leah says, speaking the words I'm unable to say aloud. "There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake," the royal messenger replies. "Our King Caleb has been searching for women with this one's exact characteristics. Seeing her as I have, I can confirm she meets these traits and am honor-bound to bring her to our King" I don't recall him looking at me f

for more than a moment. Perhaps that was all he needed.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

"She's not even a virgin!" Leah shouts. In her rage, she drops the teapot. I'm quick to retract my arm, but as the teapot hits the floor, it shatters. Hot water splatters outward, covering the hem of my skirts.

The royal messenger jumps to his feet. His face is twisted with annoyance.

"No Alpha would want her, especially the King" Leah continues, seemingly unaware of the way the royal messenger is looking at her. Mother sees though, and starts to step closer to her favorite child. "Offering the King a whore like her would be an insult! She's -" A loud crack fills the room as the royal messenger slaps Leah cleanly across the face,

Leah, stunned, has turned her entire face with the slap. Tears well in her eyes. Her cheek quickly reddens.

She's never been hit like that in her life, even when she so dearly deserved it. I was ever the punching bag: Leah, ever the perfect child.

The royal messenger speaks clearly and crisply, with obvious distin. "Who are you to question the will of our King Caleb? It's wholly within my rights to see you hang for such treachery."

Mother moves at once, stepping into the space between Leah and the messenger.

"Forgive my foolish child, good sir!" Mother says. "She did not mean the words she speaks. If anyone is to be punished, please punish me instead. As the woman who raised her, it is my duty as a mother to take responsibility for her."

Meanwhile, my knees are beginning to hurt, sitting so stiffly on the floor. Looking over, I see Mother draping herself over my sister, desperate to protect her.

No one is protecting me.

Exhaling in frustration, the royal messenger slips his attention to me. "Gather your things, Miss..."

"Harper," I provide my name

He does not repeat it, nor even nod in acknowledgement. "You are allowed one bag. Pack wisely. We will leave in five minuterTM

Five minutes does not give me much time.

Pushing myself up to my feet, I ignore the creak in my knees, as well as the sniveling of my mother still trying to protect my terrible sister and walk toward the door.

I have no bag of my own, so I slip into my parents' room to snatch one from them. The bag that I take is one that used to belong to me before my disgrace. It feels less like stealing to take it back now, and more like returning my own stolen property. Bag in hand, I start for the stairs.

Three years ago, I was removed from my lavish bedroom and hidden away in the attic. It's cold up as much

there, with insulation as the rest of the house, and leaks sometimes when there's a hard rain or too much snow. Yet I've still managed to make it my home, placing the few things I own around my cot bed.

In my mind, I'm making a list of the things I can't live without. It's not a very long list, as most of my possessions have already been stripped from me.

Dragging the bag. I climb the ladder up to my attic space. When I reach it, I startle.

A familiar figure stands in the space near my bed. In the dim light of the nearby slatted window, he turns to me

"Samuel," I say.

What could he possibly be doing here? We haven't spoken since that horrible day three years prior. I'd tried to explain everything, but he wouldn't listen. He cast me away like everyone else. "Gather only what you can't live without, Samuel says. "We'll need to travel fast and light if we are to have any chance of

escape

I froze, not understanding. This is the most he's talked to me since my disgrace. "What are you talking about?"

"Hurry, Harper," Samuel pleads. Stepping forward, he takes the bag from my hands and starts to throw my things into it. I have no dresser, just a hamper of clothes tucked into the corner He grabs blindly, packing for me. "But... why?" I ask.

Not looking at me, he explains. "I don't want to marry Leah. I never did. I've done all I can to delay this wedding. For three long, terrible years, I've succeeded. Two more weeks is all I need, and I will become Alpha. Once I'm Alpha, I can make my own decisions, like who I want as my Luna"

I understand the words he's saying, though it's a shock. For any of this to be true means that he's faked his compliance for years, convincing everyone he wants Leah, just to change everything once he's deemed Alpha.

What I don't understand is how any of this affects me.

Looking back, Samuel must see the uncertainty in my eyes. He drops my bag and walks the few steps it takes to cross the space to stand before me.

"I wanted to wait until I was Alpha," he continues. This close, even in the dim light, I can see the burning determination in his eyes. His intensity and sincerity melds me to the spot, staring at him, listening. "But I can't wait if they plan on giving you away. We have to leave. We can clope along the way, then no one can stop us."

"Elope? Samuel you haven't even talked to me in three years..."