The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

In the capital, Tristan moves stealthily through the upper hallways of the capital. He'd disguised himself as a guard to sneak past the capital walls, aligning himself with a troop as they entered. Quickly after, before he could be recognized, he broke away.

He maintained a few connections in the underground, who helped him assemble what he needed for his next disguise.

A soldier might help him pass unknown among the servants, but it was not the servants he needed to deceive. So, he took on the disguise of a kitchen servant. Then, carrying a box of groceries, entered the capital itself without receiving a second glance. In the same apparel, he's made his way all the way to the upper floors, no one questioning him. A few of the servants noticed him, recognizing him, but with a finger to his lips, the nodded, agreeing to stay silent.

Caleb was not exactly beloved by his wait staff, especially the slaves, but nor did those people feel any loyalty to George instead. In fact, per Tristan's contacts, conditions have become even worse under George's reign.

Tristan moves into the harem wing, searching for a contact there. He's not totally surprised that most of them are under armed guard.

The harem's loyalty will always be to Caleb. George is right in not trusting them, infuriating as that may be for Tristan personally right now.

Realizing the consorts are off-limits, Tristan redirects his attentions, moving into the nearby servants' quarters, the ones discretely removed from public sight behind a thick stone wall. This is where the handmaidens stay.

Tristan memorized the layout long ago, has he has the entirety of the capital, even the floors and places not used anymore. For this reason, when he enters a room, he can do so with confidence, knowing he will find who he is looking for. "Excuse me!" gasps Bethany, Harper's handmaiden.

Tristan closes the door behind him, then turns to see Bethany. When she sees it's him, she lowers the kitchen knife she's holding.

She'd swiped it. Something she might be punished for regularly, if Tristan wouldn't look the other way. Given the circumstances, he's relieved she has it now. He wouldn't fault a woman for wanting to protect herself when even the soldiers are traitors. "Beta Tristan," she says formally though softly, voice a whisper. "How are you here? They say that you've run away?"

"I suspect much of what they say isn't true," Tristan says.

Tristan doesn't know Bethany all that way, but he does know she is exceedingly loyal to Harper, perhaps more than she is even to her king. A questionable position to take, given she only continues to exist by the King's mercy... But... She's just the person he needs right

now.

At present, loyalty to Harper means loyalty to the king.

"You don't mean..." Hope rises in her voice. "Harper and the King..?"

"They are alive, and safe. For the moment. And looking for ways to return. That's why I'm here. Tell me everything that has happened. Rumors on the road say that George has declared himself Steward. I trust you know that he is the ultimate traitor."

She nods. "I do. But it's not just Stewardship he's after, Beta Tristan. He wants the crown."

"He's declared Caleb dead." Tristan says with a frown. "But surely the Alpha Council would not surrender power willingly... to

a Gamma."

"The soldiers are loyal to him," Bethany says. "He's basically holding the alphas prisoner here, threatening them and their loved ones if they don't comply with his wishes."

"Even so, there are channels he will have to take to become King He cannot simply steal the crown for himself."

"He says that he can," Bethany says. "He's using the war with the north as the reason for his urgency. He even planning an entire grandiose ceremony to show off his new power."

"A ceremony? While the city is on lock-down?"

"I've heard him give commands to allow specific vendors to pass through the walls," Bethany says.

"Good," Tristan says. "I can use that information."

"Then you should also know, that all of the soldiers inside the palace have been replaced with bear-shifters or wolves easily bought. The ones in the underground, however, are still loyal to Caleb. That's why they've been replaced. They'd likely have a few questions for George, if they could make it through the door."

An army at the ready, then. Just waiting for their king's return.

"Thank you, Bethany. You will be rewarded for this."

"I don't care about rewards," Bethany says. "Harper is my friend. Until she is safe, I won't rest."

Pristan nods, pleased with her attitude. If only that loyalty was for the king, and not a consort. Tristan is too desperate to be picky, though.

"Warn the other servants to be prepared for the day of the ceremony," Tristan says. "I suspect the King's return will not be gently received." "No," Bethany agrees. "There is sure to be bloodshed."

"We'll be ready," Tristan says.

"I'll prepare the servants and slaves," Bethany says. "Give them a signal, and they will vanish."

"Good," Tristan says, already formulating a new plan. "That's good."

Healthier, Caleb is able to make it up the stairs now, so instead of squishing himself onto the bed, he stretches out on the bed instead. I follow along behind him, though stay rooted at the door to the room while he relaxes inside of it. There is a second bedroom if he wants to be alone. When Caleb notices my hesitation, he grumbles, "What are you doing, lingering there? Get in here and warm my bed like a good consort."

His tone makes me want to argue, but since being at his side is where I want to be, I comply in this instance.

As soon as I'm within reach, he grabs me around the waist and yanks me down onto the bed.

With me on my back, he rolls over me. His mouth covers mine, his tongue plunging deep.

In a rush, he grips the front of my dress like he means to rip it off

"Wait!" I shout, pulling back from his kiss.

His brow scrunches in annoyance, but his hands still.

"What is the reason for this defiance?" he snaps.

"There are so few clothes here for me," I say. Reaching up, I start undoing the buttons that block my breasts from his hungry

and hands. "If you tear too many, I'll have to walk around naked."

eyes

"I don't see the problem."

I roll my eyes at him. "What if another salesman visits?"

"I'll pluck out his eyes," Caleb says, his voice lowering to a growlThis content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

"What if it's Tristan?"

Caleb continues growling, though he doesn't formulate words this time. Instead he pulls his hands away from my allows me to continue to unbutton, unimpeded. dress and

When the last button is free, he pushes the dress down from my shoulders. I roll away as he tugs it out from under me. He turns and places it on top of a chair near the bed.

His kindness startles and delights me so much that by the time he rolls back to me, I stretch myself, ready and waiting for him.

""Well?" I ask, lifting a brow.

"As a consort should be."

We take our pleasures well into the night, thoroughly enjoying and exhausting each other.

In the morning, I wake up first.

Caleb's face is relaxed in sleep, and one of his arms is slung around me.

A morning like this, where neither of us really need to be anywhere, is so rare and so gentle, it makes my heart hurt.

Secretly, I wish in my heart that things could stay like this forever.

It's impossible, I know. But I yearn for it so dearly that it makes me ache.