Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

** Penelope I**

I lie awake in bed, the night wrapping around me heavily and suffocatingly. Sleep feels like a distant memory, chased away by the phantom sensation of Jax's lips on mine, his teeth at my neck. Every time I close my eyes, I see Malachi's face, twisted with hurt and betrayal as if he somehow knows what I've done.

What I've allowed* to happen.

I breathe out deeply, my chest visibly rising and falling. The moonfire opal shifts, reminding me of all the reasons I'm here. I want to tear it off, to fling it across the room, but my fingers only trace its smooth surface as tears slide silently down my temples into my hair.

Outside, the wind has picked up, lashing rain against the windows in angry bursts. The storm that's been threatening all day has finally arrived, its violence matching my inner turmoil. Thunder rumbles in the distance, a low warning that makes the baby shift restlessly in my belly, making laying here feel all the more uncomfortable.

"It's okay, little one," I whisper, rubbing gentle circles over my swollen middle. "Everything's going to be okay."

*But is it?*

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

Eventually, exhaustion claims me, dragging me into a fitful sleep filled with disjointed dreams. Malachi calling my name. Jax's hands pulling me in the opposite direction. The sensation of falling, falling...

A scraping noise jolts me awake.

I lie perfectly still, ears straining in the darkness. For a moment, I think I've imagined it just another dream fragment clinging to consciousness. Then I hear it again-the unmistakable sound of something sliding against the window, followed by a faint click. My heart leaps into my throat.

*Someone's trying to get in.*

Slowly, careful not to make the bed creak, I pull myself into a sitting position. The room is cast in shadows, the storm clouds blocking any moonlight that might have filtered through the windows. I can just make out a darker shape moving against the blackness someone tall and broad-shouldered, easing the window open with practiced silence.

My lips part, ready to scream, to call for help. My hand inches toward the alarm button Rook showed me, installed beside the bed for emergencies.

But something stops me.

There's a familiar pull, a connection that makes my breath catch. Before I can think, before I can question, a name escapes my lips in a disbelieving whisper: "Mal?"

The figure freezes, then moves swiftly to my bedside. A gentle hand cups my face, familiar and achingly beloved. "Shh, little rabbit," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "Not so loud."

For a moment, I think I must still be dreaming. That I've conjured him from sheer longing. But the touch is too real, the scent too perfect-cedarwood and rain and *home*.

"Malachi," I breathe, my voice breaking as I throw my arms around him. His arms encircle me, strong and steady, and I bury my face in his neck, breathing in deep lungfuls of his scent. Tears come hot and fast, soaking into his shirt as I cling to him. "It's okay," he murmurs against my hair, his hands moving over my back, my shoulders, my face, as if reassuring himself I'm really here. "I've got you. I'm here." "How did you—” I start, but he silences me with a gentle finger against my lips. "No time," he says, his voice barely audible even in the quiet room. "We need to go. Now." In the darkness, I can barely see anything, hardly able to make out his own figure, but I feel when his hands find mine, squeezing once. "Can you walk?"

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I nod, then realize if I can't see him, he probably can't see me clearly either. "Yes," I whisper back, already moving to swing my legs over the side of the bed.

As my bare feet touch the cool floor, reality crashes back like a physical blow.

*Jax's bite. His mark over Malachi's.*

My hand flies to my neck, covering the spot where Jax claimed me. Shame and guilt twist in my gut, making me hesitate.

Malachi mistakes my pause for fear. "It's going to be okay," he reassures me, his arm sliding supportively around my waist. "I've got you. I've got both of you." His hand brushes my belly, and fresh tears sting my eyes.

*He doesn't know. He can't know what I've done.*

But there's no time to confess, no time to explain. Malachi is already guiding me toward the window, every movement quiet and urgent. "My team is creating a distraction on the south side of the castle," he whispers. "But we don't have long before they realize it's a diversion."

Thunder cracks overhead, closer now, making the windowpanes rattle. The sound of rain intensifies, drumming against the roof in a violent cascade.

"The storm will cover our escape," Malachi continues, helping me navigate around a chair. "There's a boat waiting-"

A sharp, piercing wail cuts through the night, making us both freeze.

*Alarm sirens. They've been triggered.*

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"Shit," Malachi hisses, his grip on my waist tightening. "Move, now. We need to go."

We rush toward the window, but it feels like moving through molasses. Each step seems to take an eternity, the distance stretching impossibly before us. My heart pounds so loudly I'm sure it must be audible over the shrieking alarms. "Almost there," Malachi murmurs, pushing me ahead of him. "You first, I'll be right behind-❞

The bedroom door bursts open with such force it slams against the wall, making me jump and cry out in surprise. Light floods the room, momentarily blinding. When my vision clears, I see them standing in the doorway-Rook and Jax, both half- transformed, claws extended and eyes glowing.

For a split second, no one moves. We're frozen in a grotesque tableau-me halfway to the window, Malachi's protective form behind me, Jax and Rook blocking the only other exit.

Then Jax's gaze slides to my neck, to where I know his mark now sits over Malachi's. Something flashes in his eyes triumph, possessiveness, rage. His lips pull back in a snarl that's more wolf than human.

"Get away from her," he growls, the words barely intelligible through elongated fangs.

Malachi shifts slightly, putting more of his body between me and the doorway. I feel the change ripple through him-the subtle lengthening of his fingers into claws, the broadening of his shoulders as his wolf pushes closer to the surface.

"She's *my* mate," Malachi says, his voice deadly calm despite the fury I can feel radiating from him. "*My* marked mate. You have no claim on her."

A harsh, bitter laugh tears from Jax's throat. "Is that what you think?" His eyes meet mine over Malachi's shoulder, and I flinch at the intensity I find there. "Show him, princess. Show him your neck."

Malachi stiffens beside me, his head turning slightly, questioning eyes finding mine in the harsh light.

*No...*noveldrama