Accidental Surrogate for Alpha-Chapter 353
Posted on February 08, 2025 · 1 mins read
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"D-Duke?" I stammered, overwhelmed. My eyes widened. "There are dukes? And I have an uncle?"

Henry looked guilty. "I'm sorry," he said. "I overlooked this—honestly, no one has heard from him in years. Considering what we think he was up to, it makes sense he wanted everyone to believe he was dead."

Frantic, I looked between Henry, Sinclair, and Roger. Cora watched me with worried eyes, but I knew she had no answers. "Who is he?"

Sinclair leaned close. "Relax, Ella. It's all right—"

"It is absolutely not all right!" I snapped, panicked. "My father is dead, but I have an uncle? No one told me?"

Henry hung his head, shaking slightly. I felt guilty. It wasn't his fault—the politics were complicated. Why would he tell me about an uncle he hadn't spoken to in thirty years, assuming him dead?

"I'm sorry, Henry," I said, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm behaving poorly."

"No, Ella," Henry said, looking at me. "Your reaction is correct. I failed you. And you, son," he added, turning to Sinclair.

Sinclair shook his head. "We have to stop this blame game. No one blames you, Dad and Ella. You have nothing to apologize for. This is a lot. Can we please continue? There's more…"

I squeezed Henry's arm, conveying my gratitude and affection. His small smile confirmed he understood. Relief washed over me.

"Xander was your father's older brother," Sinclair said briskly, seeming irritated by the interruption. "He was much older," Henry added, "and there were always rumors about whether his father was his biological father. Either way, Xander was recognized but never the favored son. That's why Xavier—stronger, faster, smarter, better-liked—took the throne."

"A clever stance, I think," Roger quipped, raising an eyebrow. "Some of us believe the better-looking brother should always inherit…"

Sinclair growled, and Cora elbowed Roger. I grinned, grateful for the laugh. Roger winked.

Sinclair continued, glaring at his brother. "Xander was never a popular political figure. He was always fringe, the king's sullen brother, not a real player. When Xavier died, Xander wasn't even considered for the throne. No one mentioned his name—not even him."

"Which," Henry added, "was perhaps the mistake. That started all of this."

"Started what?" I asked, confused.

Henry took my hand. "Nothing is certain. But we believe Xander initiated this. He knew he wasn't a contender for the throne after his brother's death, but he coveted it. He wanted it, perhaps his whole life, and certainly after his brother died. When no one considered him, he devised a new plan."

"A long-term plan," I whispered, leaning back. "To reclaim the throne, to keep it in his family's line."

My eyes drifted to Rafe, cooing in his father's arms. My baby, the grandson of a king, the nephew of a duke who perhaps always wanted to be in charge.

"It makes sense," Roger said softly. "We were fools not to consider it. Who benefits from Rafe's birth? The man who intends to kidnap him and put him on the throne as a puppet, acting as regent until Rafe is eighteen."

Sinclair rumbled. "I don't think we're fools for overlooking Xander. I hadn't heard his name since childhood. I thought he'd died in obscurity. He's played the long game—we're not idiots for falling into his traps. We're simply outplayed."

"So," I interrupted, "is the assumption that Xander wanted Rafe to be a legitimate heir to Xavier's throne?"

"Yes," Sinclair confirmed. "We know Reina told Xavier about you on his deathbed. He must have communicated your existence to his brother before or after his death—a note, a letter, perhaps."

"Why didn't he come for me?" I asked. "To be the heir?"

Sinclair and Roger hesitated. "Your mother did a good job hiding you," Sinclair said carefully. "She could have had you raised by a known family, but she chose an orphanage to disguise you."

"But," I said, looking at Cora, "they knew we were there. The dark priests—if they were working for Xander—knew Cora and I were in the orphanage. They followed us our whole lives!"

I furrowed my brows. If Xander wanted an heir…why didn't he get me?

Sinclair put an arm around me. "Xavier and Xander were old-school Alphas. They came from a world where…" He hesitated. I understood.

"Seriously?" I breathed. "My uncle, my blood family, left me in an orphanage because I was a girl? Because he didn't see me as a legitimate heir?"

Sinclair looked at me with sad eyes. "That's our best guess. He contracted the priests—or was always aligned with them—to watch over you. But he had no real interest in you as a person. Merely in…" He hesitated, glancing at my stomach.

"Oh," I said, my heart sinking. "I was just a broodmare to him…" I murmured, looking at my baby.

"Rafe, a male heir, was the goal," Sinclair agreed. "We think Xander bided his time and then arranged it all."

"But why," I asked, confused, "did he pick you as the father?"