Mistaken Surrogate for the Lycan Prince

Isaac

Isaac found Bianca in her bedroom, curled up in the window seat. Even from the doorway, he could tell something was wrong. She had her knees drawn up to her chest as best she could with her belly and was staring out the window, sulking.

She didn’t look up when he entered.

“Everything okay?” Isaac stopped in the doorway with his hands shoved in his pockets. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, Princess?”

Bianca didn’t answer, even when Isaac deliberately tried to push her buttons. She just continued gazing out the window, and if anything, her mouth tilted downward even more.

Realizing that this was likely more than just pregnancy hormones, Isaac crossed the room and sat beside her on the window seat. “Did something happen?”

Bianca sighed and finally looked at him. “The Elder Council rejected my proposal for the adoption program.”

Isaac frowned. “What? Why?”

“Because of you,” she said bluntly. “Because they don’t trust you. And by extension, they don’t trust me either.”

“Well, shit.” He’d been half-expecting her to say her proposal needed revisions or additional documentation. But this was much worse, and a pang of guilt shot through Isaac.

“Did they say specifically why?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

Bianca huffed. “What do you think? It’s your reputation, Isaac. According to the Council, your ‘history of irresponsibility and frivolity’ makes you an unsuitable sponsor for a sensitive program like this.”

Isaac felt his stomach drop. His reputation. The carefree playboy image he’d so carefully cultivated over the years to hide his true ambitions from everyone was now hurting Bianca. That was the last thing he wanted.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, trying to mask the guilt that was rapidly overcoming him. “You’re the one who did all the work on the proposal. I barely had anything to do with it.”

“Exactly,” Bianca said, and there was a hint of frustration in her voice now. “You barely had anything to do with it. But your name is on it because you’re my husband, and apparently, that’s enough to sink the whole thing.”

Isaac dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. All these years, he’d assumed his reputation only affected him. He’d never considered that it might eventually impact Bianca or her work. He should have known better.

“I’m sorry.”

Bianca shrugged, her expression softening slightly. “It’s not your fault. I mean, I guess technically it is, but… I know you’ve been trying to be better lately.” She turned to him and took his hand in hers. “And I know you’ve been dealing with a horrible past, and this isn’t easy for you.”

Her words only made Isaac feel worse, because she had no idea that his reputation wasn’t just a byproduct of the Queen’s cruelty—it was a deliberate strategy. A strategy that was now backfiring spectacularly on the one person he actually cared about.

“You should tell her the truth,” his wolf growled. “She’s sitting here pitying you, and you’re just letting her do it.”

Isaac cleared his throat and pushed his wolf back down. “Maybe we can resubmit the proposal,” he suggested instead. “Leave my name off it entirely.”

Bianca’s eyes flashed. “Sure, but the Shelter Project is still technically supposed to be your project. Not mine. They’ll still view my proposal as a smaller part of Shelter, and they’ll just think I’m doing your dirty work for you.”

Another pang of guilt shot through Isaac. His wolf snarled. He curled his fingers around his knee and stared at the floor for a moment, then stood. “I’ll try talking to the Council, then. I’ll explain how important this is to you.”

Bianca gave him a skeptical look. “No offense, Isaac, but I don’t think you showing up to plead our case is going to help change their minds about your reliability.”

She was right, of course. If anything, his personal involvement might only reinforce their negative perception of him. Isaac felt a wave of frustration. He’d been playing this game for so long, pretending to be less than he was, that if he actually wanted to be taken seriously at any point now, no one would give him the chance.

“So what now?” Isaac asked. “You’re just giving up on the adoption program?”

Bianca’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I didn’t say that. I’m just… regrouping. Trying to figure out an alternative approach.”

There was the Bianca he knew: determined, resilient, unwilling to admit defeat even when faced with significant obstacles. It was one of the things he admired most about her.

“Well, whatever you decide to do next, I’m here to help,” Isaac promised. “For real this time.”

Bianca offered him a small smile, but he could tell she didn’t even believe him anymore. And how could she? Aside from occasionally stepping in whenever absolutely necessary, he had done pretty much fuck all to really help him.

She was losing faith in him, just like everyone else.

As Isaac left, closing the door softly behind him, his mind was racing. This was his fault. Not just indirectly, but directly. If he hadn’t spent the last decade pretending to be a shallow, irresponsible playboy, Bianca’s proposal would likely have sailed through the Elder Council without issue.

He’d told himself his facade was necessary, that it was the only way to protect his future chances at the throne, especially if he didn’t want anyone to find out he was illegitimate. But what good was winning the throne if he had to sacrifice Bianca’s dreams in the process?

Walking down the corridor, Isaac made a sudden decision. The Elder Council might be a lost cause, but they weren’t the only governing body in the kingdom. There was also the Alpha Council—younger, less traditional, and far more understanding.

And one of its newest members was Donovan, the Alpha who had adopted that rogue orphan and who had donated generously to the Shelter Project. Isaac had Donovan’s private number since the night they went out for drinks.

Slipping into his office, Isaac closed the door and pulled out his phone. Donovan answered on the third ring.

“Prince Isaac. I don’t suppose you’re asking to go out drinking again? I feel like I’m still recovering from the last time.”

“Not this time. I actually… I need a favor,” Isaac admitted. “It’s about Bianca’s adoption program for rogue orphans.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I heard the Elder Council rejected her proposal. That’s unfortunate.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Isaac muttered. “They rejected it because of me. Because they don’t think I’m reliable.”

Donovan didn’t immediately contradict him, which told Isaac all he needed to know about how widespread his reputation was.

“Look,” Isaac continued, “the program is solid. Bianca put everything into it, it means a lot to her, and it would really help kids around the kingdom.”

“I think I see where this is going…”

“Well, I was wondering if the Alpha Council might consider taking it on instead. Bypassing the Elder Council entirely.”

Another pause. Then: “It’s… possible. The Alpha Council does have jurisdiction over cross-territory welfare programs, which this would qualify as. But…”

“But what?”

“But the other Alphas would need to be convinced. And frankly, Prince Isaac, your reputation doesn’t exactly inspire confidence among them either.”

Isaac closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “What if Bianca presented directly to the Council? Without me involved?”

“The Alpha Council still operates on consensus. And a program of this scale would need significant backing.”

“What about you?” Isaac pressed. “You’ve seen Bianca in action. You know she’s genuine about this. Surely you could put a good word in for her.”

Donovan seemed to consider this. “I was impressed by her at the donation drive. She gave extra supplies to that rogue family—didn’t think anyone was watching, but I saw it. It wasn’t for show; she truly cares.”

“She does. More than anyone I know.”

“Alright,” Donovan finally said. “I’ll support the proposal in the Council. But you’ll need to win over at least three more Alphas for a majority.”

Isaac frowned. “And how do I do that?”

“That, my friend, is up to you. The Alpha Council is meeting next month for the quarterly summit. Surely you can come up with something before then.”

Once he hung up, Isaac sat at his desk for a long moment, thinking. He needed to impress a group of territorial Alphas who probably thought he was nothing more than a spoiled, frivolous playboy prince. How could he change their minds in such a short time?

The answer came to him almost immediately. There was one thing he was genuinely good at, one skill no one—not even his harshest critics—could deny: Isaac Thorne knew how to throw a party.

Isaac smiled to himself as he picked up his phone again, ready to start making arrangements. A party. Yes, that was exactly what he needed to do.