3rd Person
Prince Damon stared at the television screen, apoplectic with rage. He didn’t know how Sinclair found out about the story he’d leaked to the Current, and he didn’t really care. The end result was the same: Here was the Moon Valley Alpha and his wretched little Luna on live TV, accusing him of corruption and murder. What was worse, the reporters were eating it up without any semblance of concern for the lies Sinclair had been telling these last few months. The Prince’s own investigators hadn’t figured out that Ella had been living as a human all these years, and now it seemed there wouldn’t be any need for them to continue digging, because she was about to explain how this all began.
The glowing she-wolf exchanged a nod with her mate, before turning back to the crowd. “The truth is that the beginning of our relationship is a mystery to us both. We were both desperate for children, after years of trying and failing with our partners. I didn’t know it at the time, but I wasn’t conceiving because I was with a human, and long story short, I went to a sperm bank thinking it was my last chance to get pregnant. Dominic had sent his own sperm there for analysis, and somehow it ended up getting mixed up with the sample from the donor I’d chosen.”
“When Dominic scented his heir in my womb a few days later, we didn’t understand how I was able to conceive a shifter’s child, and now of course the mystery is who or what led to that fateful mix up, because we might not have created this baby the traditional way, but we fell in love so fast and fiercely that there’s no doubt it was meant to be.” She explains, her silken voice full of warmth as she gazes up at the Alpha in question. “All we can say is the Goddess works in mysterious ways.”
Excited mutters about the goddess and fate wove throughout the room, and Prince Damon gripped the back of the sofa so hard that his claws ripped into the upholstery. This was unbelievable. Why didn’t anyone care that they had been lying all this time – they’d just confessed they didn’t even know each other when the bitch conceived and the press was still fawning all over them. Romantic fools! He thought bitterly. What was wrong with this species? So brainless that they could be swayed by starry eyed fantasies and fairy tales about the Goddess.
He shut the television off when one of the reporters obsequiously cried, “When did you realize you were in love?”
“Bring Lydia to me, right now.” He ordered the guard beside him, “Then tell my father to clear his schedule. We need to talk.”
When Lydia walked in a little while later, her demeanor skittish and uncertain, he could only growl wordlessly. “What’s happened?” She asked, clearly balking.
“Sinclair’s outmaneuvered us again. He just announced that Ella’s wolf was dormant and that he lied about her past to protect her.” The Prince explained. “Then he accused me of planning the rogue attack and kidnapping her, and he had footage of the second meeting!”
Lydia’s eyes widened in horror, and she began backing away from him warily. “The current must have called them for a comment on the story.”
“A comment! A comment!” Damon ranted. “And you didn’t think that Sinclair would take the opportunity to beat us to the punch! Nobody even cares that they lied because he turned it into a fucking romantic comedy! I told you that this was your last chance, you stupid cow!”
‘But it wasn’t my fault!” Lydia cried, fear rolling off of her in waves. “All I’ve ever done is try to help you!”
“I never would have kidnapped Ella if it wasn’t for you – they would never have had that footage, Sinclair would have continued to quietly counter us in private if we hadn’t pissed him off so much!” The Prince thundered, stalking Lydia across the room, his wolf glowing in his eyes. “You’ve done nothing but screw things up from the first moment you walked into my life, and now you’ve ruined any chance I had at being King!”
“Then I’ll leave!” Lydia offered frantically, correctly sensing the mortal danger she was facing. “I’ll go away and you’ll never hear from me again, you have my word.”
Women. Damon mused bitterly. Always so eager to stick their noses where they don’t belong, but never willing to take responsibility for their actions. Never willing to get their hands dirty themselves. In that moment, the hints Ella had dropped about the Princess’s murder suddenly clicked in Damon’s mind. Poison. He thought, that’s why Ella said it was a feminine tactic, because it’s passive. Maybe it was the way Lydia was cowering in front of him, but Ella’s next clue suddenly seemed only too obvious. Who would benefit from her death?
Understanding crashed into Damon, and suddenly all of Lydia’s actions since she had inserted herself into his world made sense. He realized that she’d always attached herself to powerful men, bouncing from one to the next every time they became wise to her treachery. “But you don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” The Prince responded in a snarl. “Your husband tossed you to the curb, Sinclair rejected you. You’ve never worked a day in your life, it must have seemed like a golden opportunity when I suddenly became single, right when you were on the verge of losing everything. In fact, that was quite some coincidence, wasn’t it?”
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