Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

** Malachi I**

The acrid stench of burning flesh and copper tang of blood fill my nostrils as I stare at Rook's battered form. He hangs from the ceiling by thick chains, his torso a canvas of cuts, bruises, and angry red burns. His chest rises and falls in shallow, pained breaths. Despite hours of interrogation, he hasn't broken. Hasn't revealed what he told Penelope. *I'm running out of options...*

A growl builds in my chest, frustration and anger warring within me. I want to keep going, to beat the truth out of him. But I know if I push much further, I might kill him. And a dead man can't give me the answers I need. I turn to Axel, my voice low and dangerous. "I'll be back in an hour. Make sure he's awake."

Axel hesitates, his eyes flicking between me and Rook. "Alpha, perhaps we should let him rest-"

"No," I snap, cutting him off. The wolf in me is still snarling for blood, for answers. "And this time, make damn sure that door isn't left unguarded. Understood?"

"Yes, Alpha," Axel nods, signaling to Ryker to take up position outside.

I stride out of the dungeon, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. As I reach the top of the stairs, I see Garrett standing guard. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles prominent beneath them. He looks dead on his feet. "Garrett," I call out. He snaps to attention, but I can see the exhaustion in every line of his body. "Get some rest. You've been up for what, 48 hours now?"

"Yes, Alpha," he nods, relief evident in his voice.

"Get Derek to take over here," I order. "And find someone to replace Ryker downstairs too. You both need sleep."

"Thank you, Alpha," Garrett says, gratitude clear in his tone.

As I make my way to our bedroom, each step feels heavier than the last. The knowledge of what I've done and what I still might have to do sits like a stone in my gut.

*I don't have a choice. It's him or my family.*

When I push open the bedroom door, the sight of Penelope stops me in my tracks. She's perched on the edge of our bed, hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her head is bowed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Tear tracks stain her cheeks, and the scent of her distress hits me anew.

Guilt twists in my gut, hard to push aside when she sits there like that.

*This is necessary. To protect her, to protect our pack.*

I move to the bathroom without a word, scrubbing Rook's blood from my hands. The water runs pink, a testament to the violence I'm capable of.

When I walk back in the bedroom, Penelope hasn't moved. Her sniffles fill the silence, each one a dagger to my heart. I grab fresh clothes from the drawer, changing quickly from the bloodstained clothes.

With a heavy sigh, I sit on the edge of the bed beside her. "Penelope," I begin, hating the lecture I know I have to give. "You can't go down to the dungeon. What if he had hurt you? Or the baby?"

Her voice is barely above a whisper, fragile and raw. "He wasn't going to hurt me."

*She is so damn trusting... so naive.*

I clench my jaw, fighting to keep my voice even. "You don't know that."

She looks up at me then, her hazel eyes swimming with tears. "He wouldn't hurt me," she insists. "I know it. I feel it."

A scoff escapes me before I can stop it. I stand, pacing the room as she continues.

"Mal, please," Penelope pleads, her voice trembling. "There's this... connection. I can't explain it, but I feel drawn to him. It's like... like a part of me recognizes him."

Her words stoke a fire in my chest-not just concern for her safety, but a bitter, burning jealousy. The idea of Penelope feeling drawn to another man, regardless of the reason, makes my wolf snarl with possessive rage. She's *mine*. *My* mate. The mother of *my* child. No one else should have any claim on her, any pull over her.

"You don't know anything!" I snap, harsher than I intend. "He's a stranger, Penelope. A dangerous one. Whatever you think you feel, it's not real. It can't be."

"Neither do you!" she shouts back, her voice breaking. "You won't even listen! You're so sure you're right that you won't even consider the possibility-"

"The possibility of what?!" I cut her off, my temper flaring. "That he's telling the truth? That he's really your long-lost brother? Do you have any idea how convenient that sounds? How perfectly tailored to manipulate you?" Penelope's face crumples, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "Why can't you trust me?" she asks, her voice small and filled with hurt. "Why is it so hard to believe that I might know something you don't?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow, clutching at something inside my chest. I turn to look at her, really look at her. She's crying in earnest now, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs. And suddenly, a terrible thought creeps in. *What if Rook was telling the truth?*

The torture I put him through...

*Any man would have broken by now. Unless he was protecting someone. Someone worth all that pain.*

My eyes fall on Penelope again, watching as she wipes furiously at her tears. And I know if our positions were reversed, if it was Penelope I was protecting, I'd endure any amount of pain.

*She's worth it. Every bit of it.*

I sigh, moving to sit on the bed, beside her. When I try to put my arms around her, she attempts to scoot away, her swollen belly making the movement awkward and clumsy. "Penny," I start, but she cuts me off with a sharp "No."

She sniffles, her voice thick and quavering. "I don't want the same hands that are going to kill my brother touching me." A fresh wave of sobs overtakes her.

Her words are like knives, each one driving deeper than the last. I try again to hold her, but she fights against me, crying harder. And in that moment, I know. There's no way Rook could be lying, not if it's affecting her this deeply. Siblings have a bond, a link that transcends time and distance. I should know-I have a brother too, after all.

"Alright," I say softly, pulling her into my arms despite her weak protests. "He's safe. No one will hurt him, not anymore."

She looks up at me, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. "You promise?" she whispers, her voice small and fragile. *She's gonna be the death of me.*

I wipe the tears from her cheeks, my touch as gentle as I can make it. "I promise."

As she collapses against my chest, her sobs gradually subsiding, my mind races. I need Rook to talk. Why did he have Penelope's shirt? If he truly wanted to reconnect with his sister, why not request a meeting with me? There's something here that doesn't add up, and I need to get to the bottom of it.

I hold Penelope close, breathing in her scent. My hand rests on her swollen belly, feeling the occasional movement of our child. This-this right here is what I'm fighting for. What I'll always fight for.

"I'm sorry," I murmur into her hair. "I'm sorry I didn't listen."

She doesn't respond, but her grip on me tightens. I know this isn't over. There are still questions to be answered, truths to be uncovered. I press a kiss to her forehead, my mind already formulating a new plan.

Once we all get some rest, I'll talk to Rook again. But this time, I'll listen. Really listen. Because if there's even a chance he's telling the truth, if there's a possibility that Penelope has family out there... *It changes everything.*