Surrogate for the Alpha Prince in a Coma novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

Three days after I told Calvin to leave, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d gotten exactly what he came for.

Not information. Not access. Something worse – a read on me. He’d watched my face when I said we’re done, and instead of pushing back, he smiled at the servants and strolled out like a man without a care in the world. Calvin didn’t accept rejection. He stored it and planned around it.

I knocked Grayson’s water pitcher off the nightstand during the morning massage. The metal cap rolled under the bed, and I dropped to my knees to fish it out.

“That’s the third thing you’ve dropped today.” His voice was flat. Eyes closed.

I stood and set the pitcher back. My gray palace tunic had ridden up when I crawled under the bed, and I tugged t straight. The sleeves were still too long. I’d rolled them twice and they still slipped past my wrists, making me look like a child wearing her father’s clothes.

“Sorry.”

I pressed my thumbs back into the muscle along his shoulders. His skin radiated warmth through the thin sleep shirt – that cedar-and-frost scent filling my lungs, pooling low in my chest, making my wolf lean forward with a pull I couldn’t explain and didn’t want to examine. My palms lingered a beat too long on the ridge between his neck and shoulder. I jerked them back and wiped them on my trousers.

“What did he say to you?” Grayson said.

“Who?”

“Calvin.” He opened one eye. Cold. “You’ve been walking into furniture since his visit. Dropped the curtain rod yesterday. Nearly knocked over the monitor this morning.” The eye stayed on me. “If he told you something that affects my operation, I need to hear it.”

“He brought flowers. I told him to leave.” I held his gaze. “That’s all.”

He studied me for another second. Then his eye closed, and the conversation died.

A knock saved us both.

“Luna Princess?” A servant bowed in the doorway. “The King and Queen request your presence in the main hall.”

The main hall was vast – stone pillars, vaulted ceiling, the royal crest carved into the far wall above the King’s elevated chair. I smoothed my tunic, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and walked in.

The King filled his chair completely – scarred, iron-haired, motionless. The Queen stood beside him in dark emerald silk, her posture blade-straight, her expression unreadable. Ophelia was there too, arms crossed, blonde hair pinned up, her eyes tracking me across the floor like I was something she’d have to clean up later.

And my father. Standing to the side in his best coat – dark wool, polished brass buttons, the one he only wore for people who outranked him. He caught my eye and smiled warmly.

My stomach turned over.

“Come forward,” the King said.

The Queen didn’t waste time. “It has been weeks since your selection. The Elder Council has raised concerns.” Her voice was precise, each word deliberate. “Without an heir- or signs of progress – they will push to transfer the succession. We do not have the luxury of patience.”

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“I understand, Your Majesty.”

“Understanding and results are different things.” Her gaze sharpened. “We are arranging physical training for you. A stronger body improves the chances of conception. Additionally, you will undergo weekly medical examinations to track your progress.”

Ophelia stepped forward before anyone else could speak.

“I’d be happy to train her myself.” She smiled at the Queen easy, familiar, the smile of a favorite/daughter. I’m at the grounds every morning. It would be no trouble.”

The Queen’s face softened in a way I’d never seen directed at me. “That would be wonderful, dear.”

I opened my mouth. The Queen’s eyes swung to me, and the softness vanished. I closed my mouth.

My father cleared his throat. “If I may, Your Majesties.” He dipped his head – the picture of a humble Gamma. Lillian’s younger brother misses her terribly. By custom, the Luna Princess may return home for a few days each month. A brief visit might ease her nerves and improve her… cooperation.”

He said cooperation without blinking.

The King nodded. “Arrange it.”

My father bowed. His eyes found mine, and the warmth in them curdled into something specific and cold.

I thought of Ronan. Ten years old. Alone in that packhouse with these people.

“I’d like that,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I miss home.”

He cornered me in a side corridor before I made it back to Grayson’s wing.

The moment we were alone, the mask dropped. His shoulders shifted. His chin lowered. The polished buttons looked absurd now-costume jewelry on a man who’d never loved anything he couldn’t use.

“Weeks.” His voice went low and flat. “You’ve been here for weeks, and nothing. Do you understand how that makes me look?”

“You sent me here to die.” I kept my voice level. “You traded me to Calvin so Maren could have her Luna

1 ceremony. Don’t stand there and pretend this was about family.”

His hand shot out and gripped my arm. Not hard enough to bruise where it would show. Hard enough to remind me he could.

“Everything I’ve done has been for this family.”

“For your family, for Maren’s! Not mine.”

His fingers tightened. Then he let go and straightened his coat, smoothing the lapels like we were having a pleasant conversation.

“Your brother has been unwell.” His tone shifted – conversational now, almost casual. “Wolf toxin. Nasty business. It suppresses the shift, weakens the muscles and bones.” He examined his cuff. “A growing boy really shouldn’t go untreated for long.”

The corridor shrank around me. My heartbeat was the only sound left.

“He’s ten years old.”

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“And he’ll stay alive,” my father said, “as long as you do what you’re told. Conceive. Produce an heir. Be the good, quiet girl you used to be.” He looked up and gave me the smile he used at pack dinners – warm, fatherly, perfect for an audience. “I’ll see you at home in a few days, sweetheart.”

He walked away. His footsteps echoed off the stone.

I stood with my fists shaking and my nails biting crescents into my palms. My wolf threw herself against the walls inside me, snarling

Ronan. Poisoned. Locked up. Getting weaker every day I did nothing.

I was done being quiet. I was going to take my brother away.

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