The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

Chapter

92

The man moves closer, coming right for us. I tense all of my muscles, ready to fight, when I blink and realize the identity of the man in question. It's Tristan

Breathe exhales my lungs so sharply, I feel like it's been punched out of me. Tears well in my eyes, relief flooding through

Tristan is here. He's Caleb's Beta. He'll know what to do.

"Harper," he says with realization. Some of his own tension eases from him, as he comes closer and helps slide Caleb onto his side, off of me. "Is he?"

""Alive" I tell him.

Tristan touches Caleb's neck to be sure. "Thank the gods."

"He fell from a window. Most of his bones are broken, he said."

"He was awake?"

"Briefly," I say:

Tristan exhales and nods. "Good. That's good.

Tristan has blood splatter on his face and his knuckles are cracked like he'd done some serious punching. He's changed since I last saw him, now wearing the same black soldier uniform that looks suspiciously like the enemies. My nerves start to itch again. "Tristan? Why are you wearing that?"

He glances down. "Oh. It's easier to move among the enemy if they can't immediately tell you don't belong."

That's a reasonable explanation but it still makes me nervous. I hold onto Caleb's arm a little tighter than before. Tristan notices. "I've sworn a blood oath of loyalty to King Calet. Do you know what that means?"

Vaguely. It's hard to remember now with my adrenaline so out of control.

He takes my silence for ignorance and continues, "I cannot physically act against that oath. If I were to be disloyal to my King, it would kill me. That is the oath I took as Beta. Caleb is my leader, but he is also like a brother to me." I want to believe him but.. "I don't know."

"Watch," Tristan says. He pulls out a knife. My panic heightens, but instead of going for Caleb's chest, he moves toward the arm I'm holding. Lightly, he traces a small scratch over the back of that arm. It bleeds a little but heals quickly. Tristan turns. his arm so that I can see. The same scratch he gave Caleb is mirrored onto his own skin, but much, much deeper. His blood comes rushing out.

"Stop," I gasp.

"It's fine," he says and lowers his sleeve. "I am not as strong as our King but I will heal quickly. It was more important for you to see that I am trustworthy, especially as what I'm about to ask you to do will not be without danger."

"Thank you," I say, because while I don't like seeing either of them hurt, it does make it easier to trust.

Kneeling beside Caleb, Tristan more thoroughly inspects him. Already I can see that some of Caleb's bruises are fading and.

the harsh angle to his broken bones are snapping back into place.

"We can assume that Caleb will not be able to help us with his escape. Even after his body heals, he will need time to rest and recuperate. These bullets are silver, we will have to pry them out

I could see, where he was pointing, that the skin couldn't fully heal over the bullet wounds in his chest. Gods, it all looked so painful

"We can't do that here," I say. "If he wakes up again."

"You need to find him some clothes, I will find us a car."

"A car? I don't understand. Shouldn't we help the guard retake the capital?"

Tristan looks at me with pity. It's much different than his usual boredom and I hate it. When things are normal, he's bored. I want things to be normal.

"We don't know who we can trust here," Tristan says. "But I know exactly who we can't trust. And until we remove him from power and authority, it would be unwise to bring Caleb back under that roof. We need to escape and regroup. Let the King heal. Then we come back and destroy them." "Destroy who? Who can't we trust?" He clearly knows more than do, perhaps from slinking around behind enemy lines.

"George, Caleb's Gamma. One of his closest advisors," Tristan says.

"The one who never agreed with him."

Tristan nods. "Caleb always thought some dissenting voices were good in his council. I have no idea how long George disagreed." His lip curls in disgust. "When this is over, I will ask him myself. Preferably with my knife in his gut

Seeing he was getting angry, I tried to redirect his attentions. "I can search for clothing in the nearby houses, but how will you get a car? And we shouldn't leave him like this."

"No." He sighs, "Truthfully, I was going to send you for clothes and sneak Caleb away, but now...

"You were going to leave me?" I gasp.

Tristan motions toward my wrist, where Caleb has wrapped his hand around it tightly. In the excitement I hadn't even noticed.

"No chance of that now," Tristan says. "You say here. I will find a car and clothes. Wait for my signal."This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I imagine I already know the signal. That horrible whistling-

"Alright," I agree.

Tristan quietly slips away, and I continue to worry. I don't know how long it takes but it feels like hours, constantly on guard.

Then, at last, I hear the whistle.

Tristan sneaks back into the alley, carrying dark clothes for Caleb. Together we dress him. Then, together, though with mostly Tristan carrying the weight, we pull him from the alley. Tristan drapes him across the backseat and hurriedly instructs me to lay beside him. He covers us both with a blanket, making sure both our feet and heads are hidden.

"Don't move until you feel sunshine. Don't even breathe," Tristan says and closes the door. He gets in again, in the driver's seat, I presume. The car starts and Tristan drives.

I do not move or breathe.

10:19

Fri, Nov

"We're coming up to the checkpoint," "Tristan says. "Keep your head down."

Slowly the car rolls to a stop. Tristan puts the window down.

"Get that gun out of my face." Tristan snaps, twinging his words with a different kind of accent. The kind they use in the

north.

"Oh, sorry, brother. We didn't realize you were on our side. Where the hell you going in this? The war is still on."

"Have you seen this car? I'd be a fool to leave this behind."

"Sure. But the war