The Lycan King's Defiant Surrogate

Caleb and I move to the center of the warehouse. The soldiers and other loyal citizens make room for use. When word gets out that we are going to spare, we earn ourselves a sizeable crowd. They should be getting ready for the fight ahead, but I suppose watching the

king spar with a member of his harem is too curious a sight to ignore.

When he attacks the ceremony later today, Caleb will wear body armor, but he chooses nothing of the sort right now, wearing only a black t-shirt and black slacks with heavy black boots.

I'm still in my dress from the farm, though I've sliced a slit tip the side to give myself more mobility. Caleb really doesn't like that and has been glaring at that slit since 1 made it.

"Well?" he says, gesturing with one hand for me to attack him. "Come on. I'll let you try twice before I do anything but dodge."

"I don't want to actually hurt you," I say.

He laughs, as do a few onlookers.

"Consort, you can try your very best. See what happens. I promise you won't hurt me."

His cool dismissal of my talents lights a fire within me. I decide not to hold back.

Readying myself, I fall into one of the stances that the Pitmaster showed me. My knife is much smaller than the blade she provided me, but the principles are the same. My enemies are always going to be bigger than me.

I had to catch them by surprise. I had to be quicker.

Could I be quicker than the king of alphas?

Unlikely, but I was going to try my best.

In a flash, I rush forward, blade first. I slash at him.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

He leans back, and my knife slices through air, not once catching on his skin or the fabric of his shirt.

"That's one attempt missed," Caleb says, righting himself. "Try again."

I use the momentum I already have, to continue a spin, then follow-through with a second attack, slicing upwards this time. He turns to the side, moving at high speeds put with a smoothness that made the action appear casual. He smirks like he's proud, even though some of the onlookers chuckle again.

"That's two," Caleb says. "Remember, on this third one, I get to do more than dodge. Come at me again."

Righting myself, I think about the best course of attack. I could angle for some kind of distraction technique. But the first thing that comes to mind is kissing him, not something I want to do in front of all these people, and not likely something I would do in an actual combat situation.

No, what I need to do is just stick to my guns.

Hower myself down low and prepare for my third and final attack.

Now!

I dart forward.

At the same moment, Caleb reaches out, grabs my out-stretched wrists, and twists just enough to make me drop the knife.

10.32 Fri, Nov 29 BG

As it clatters onto the ground, he tugs me against him, trapping me with his arms around my waist.

"I win he says, smirking smugly down at me. The onlookers clap. Caleb ignores them. As he continues to stare at me, his good humor entirely fades.

Is he thinking, like I am, that his winning means my staying behind, which means this is goodbye?

45

"You need more training." Caleb says, "but it will have to suffice for now. You will stay here with the other non-combatants. It should be safe here, but if the worst should happen..."

I can see now that his reason for leaving me behind isn't just to keep me safe. It's because I'm one of the few people he can trust to try to save his remaining loyal followers.

Leaning in, he whispers in my ear, "Do what you have to, to survive, Harper."

"I will," I tell him. His words have soothed some of the pain of losing so spectacularly.

Releasing his hold on me, he lifts a hand toward my face, but doesn't quite touch. It hovers for a long moment as he stares at me like he's searching for something.

"King Caleb," Tristan says, materializing nearby. "It's time to go."

Caleb looks at me a moment more, then turns without another word to me. With Tristan's help, he straps on the armored vest, then, leading the soldiers, slips out through the side door with them following behind.

The plan, as I understand it, is for Caleb and the soldiers to slip in through an open servants' entrance. They mean to enter undetected, making a grand entrance at the ceremony itself, running George's plans in the most dramatic of fashions.

I worry for them, for Caleb and for Tristan, while also wishing I could be there to see the shock on George's face.

The King is only gone fifteen minutes when another soldier bursts through the entrance of the warehouse, panting so hard, he looks like he might keel over.

"Where is the king?" the soldier asks, looking around. "I have a message."

"Rest yourself, son," says one of the older woman non-combatants. "Sit down before you

"No time. I have to deliver a message."

"They've already left," someone else says.

fall down."

The young man curses.

"What's the message," I say, stepping forward.

The soldier looks at me confused. "Consort Harper. You're alive?" This man must have worked in the palace, to recognize

1. me.

"The message," someone else presses, urgency in their voice.

"The servants' entrance.... the one we'd planned on used to enter. It's been sealed off," the out of breath soldier only one open entrance in and out of the palace and it's highly guarded." "The soldiers will be stranded," says a woman.

"Or they'll be mowed down at the check point."

says. "There's

"I can take the message to them," one of the others say, a boy too young for combat. He's already rushing toward the door.

DG

"Wait," I say stopping him

Several pair of distrusting eyes turn to me.

"If you tell Caleb the way is shut, he will go through the one that is open, even if it leads to casualties. We need a different option to present him. Does anyone have any other ideas?"

"He might not," says one of the woman. "My husband is with him. I'm not going to hold up this message so you can talk hypotheticals."

"No," the older woman says. "Harper's right. The King will make judgement call, and he has always been more prone to action than waiting." The older woman nods to one of the other non-combatants. "Show her what's in that crate over there." "This is wasting time," says the impatient woman.

An older man leads me to a stack of crates. Inside is a supply of dynamite.

"They could blow it from outside," the old woman says, but as it's a servants' entrance, the servants' quarters are just inside. It could lead to many innocent casualties. But if the servants were warned. "But if they are warned before the explosives go off..." I meet the old woman's eyes and understand her intent. Someone has to go in and warn them.

"Does anyone have any servant clothes?" I ask.

"We've already abandoned our posts," the older woman says. "If we are recognized, we will be immediately killed."

"I'm not suggesting any of you go in..." I say.

The impatient woman frowns at me. "You can't mean for it to be you."

"If I'm caught, I might not be immediately killed," I say. "I'm the only one who can say that. Give me the clothes. Someone else run the dynamite to Caleb. But please tell him to give me a head start."

"He won't be pleased when he finds out it's you who went inside the old man says.

"Then don't tell him," I say and rush to change.

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