The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51 

Walking into the closet, I collect all the spare pieces of fabric and lace that the thieves left behind. Then I carry it back into the other room. 

By now, Bethany has pulled herself together enough to stand. She meets me beside the bed, where I drop all the fabrics down 

She saved me once before, sewing my dress up masterfully. I can only hope she’ll do the same again now. 

“Can you do anything with this?” I ask her. 

She comes through the fabrics, picking some up, then putting them back down 

“Maybe if I had enough time. But you need something right now. I don’t have a clue how I could…” 

She picks up a bit of lace as she side–eyes the dress I’m currently wearing. 

Think of something?” I ask 

“A bolt of inspiration. You take that off, I need to find some real scissors.” 

With that, we went our separate ways for a moment, as I shrugged off my dress and she tracked the scissors bigger 

than those in her sewing kit. She returns just as I finish disrobing, carrying both a sewing basket and a sewing machine under her arm. 

She sets up at the small two person table. I bring her my dress, self–conscious to be walking around in my underwear, but there is literally nothing to wear. It’s just Bethany anyway, as long as no one comes through the door. 

Dress in hand, Bethany sets to work. Cutting and stitching and snatching that lace fabric off the bed. She works in a whirl, knowing time is of the essence. 

Ten minutes later, she pulls the pile of fabric away from the sewing machine, looks at it with a critical eye, and then hands it 

to me. 

“Try this on,” she says. 

Caleb checks the time on his phone. What the hell is taking Harper so long? 

He saw what happened as she went to the food table, spotting the moment one of his other consorts spilled wine on her dress. He followed behind, taking appropriate action in dismissing that offending consort – her punishment is yet to be decided in his mind. 

Harper seemed to go off to change. 

Caleb for a fact knows that she has a closet full of dresses. Hells, he put them there. So what is taking the woman so damn long to make up her mind? 

When ten minutes becomes twenty, he feels a headache start to form. It’s becoming fncreasingly more difficult to be as considerate to these asshole lords than he usually is. 

In fact, as Lord Larkin, the supposed man of the hour, approaches him, Caleb shoots him a glare so deadly it should melt glass. 

Lord Larkin smartly moves away, at least for a moment. Whatever sliver of courage he has, he rallies, then returns with his face all nervously scrunchied up. 

Caleb really doesn’t have the patience for this, but Tristan has kindly asked him to stop killing the lands or they won’t be able 

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Chapter 51 

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to replace them. He went further, saying if they can’t replace the lords, then Caleb is going to have to do more paperwork 

himself. 

Likely that meant that Tristan would have to do more paperwork, not Caleb. But Caleb could be sympathetic to that plight. 

A strong kingdom is like a table that needs sturdy legs to stand on. 

Caleb is very capable, but he still can’t physically be everywhere at once. He needs these assholes to help him. 

That means he has to be nice every once in a while. 

“What do you want?” Caleb snaps. 

Lord Larkin immediately cowers. Good. Let him be afraid. 

“I–it is my birthday, King Caleb…” Lord Larkin says. Then he looks at Caleb expectantly. 

Gods, he should just get to the point. If he thinks Caleb is going to pretend to care about his birthday, he’s going to be sorely mistake. Caleb’s already at this banquet. That should be more than enough caring. 

As if realizing that Caleb is not going to say anything more, Lord Larkin stumbles on. 

“I–I was hoping we could get to discuss some of the trade agreements.” 

“Speak to my Beta” Caleb says. “He will see to your request.” 

“Uh.” Lord Larkin clearly wants to say more, but under Caleb’s intense glare, he bottles whatever else he had to say right back up inside of him. “Of course, my King. Thank you, my King 

As he scurries away, Caleb is more annoyed now. 

That annoyance stays with him as he turns toward the door to the hall. 

Harper is back, and she has changed. 

But that dress…. 

A possessive growl escapes the back of Caleb’s throat. 

The dress is similar in color to what she had on previously, but the entire midsection, where the wine had been spilled, was missing, and in its place was sheer, translucent lace. As it is, her breasts are barely covered, with only a tiny jut of fabric hiding her nipples. 

The swell, the underside, the valley in between. All on display for these lesser men’s greedy eyes. 

Caleb’s annoyance heightens tenfold, boiling into hot anger. 

Just then a couple of the other consorts try to approach him. He has no time for them and their petty foolishness. He immediately pushes past them before they can say a word and rushes to Harper. 

A few women guests have approached her, complimenting her dress. One even asks who the designer is 

Harper blushes slightly as she replies, “It’s a secret 

Caleb storms to her with such long, angry strides, that people glance at him and quickly duck out of the way 

The only person who doesn’t seem to be afraid of him is Harper who lifts her chin in debiance at his approach. Infuriating 

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Chapter 31 

What are you wearing Caleb growls. 

„dress” Harper replies flatly