Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

** Penelope **

The afternoon sun is warm on my face as I sit on the balcony, sipping my tea and trying to quiet the unsettled thoughts swirling through my mind. Even in the light of day, I can't shake the lingering unease from last night's nightmare, the hazy images and the echo of old grief still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.

*Stop thinking about it.*

I sigh, setting my cup down on the delicate saucer with a soft clink. My hand drifts to my belly, rubbing soothing circles as I feel the flutter of movement beneath my palm. "It's okay, little one," I murmur softly. "Mama's here. We're safe now." And it's true, I realize with a rush of gratitude and relief. Ever since Malachi had me move into his bedroom the day after the ball, I've felt more secure, more protected than ever before. Waking up in his arms, surrounded by his scent and his strength, it's as if he's slowly chasing away the shadows of my past.

Lost in thought, I almost miss the faint rustling sound coming from the corner of the balcony. But some primal instinct has me turning my head, my gaze searching the shadowed nook behind the potted ferns.

At first, I see nothing, just the play of light and shadow on the stone. Then, something moves, a darker patch within the darkness, and a chill runs down my spine.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice wavering slightly. "Is someone there?"

Silence.

For a moment, everything is still, and there isn't a noise to be heard.

Then, a blur of motion, a rush of air, and suddenly there's a pair of hands around my throat, squeezing, choking, cutting off my air. I try to scream but all that comes out is a strangled wheeze, my fingers scrabbling uselessly at the iron, inhumane grip on my neck.

*No, please, my baby...*

Dark spots dance across my vision, my lungs burning and my pulse thundering in my ears. The world starts to fade at the edges, a terrifying darkness creeping in, ready to swallow me whole. *Malachi, I'm sorry...*

Just as I'm about to surrender to the encroaching blackness, a furious roar splits the air, the sound vibrating through me like a physical force. The hands around my throat are suddenly wrenched away, and I'm gulping mouthfuls of air, coughing and gasping as I collapse back against my chair.

Through the haze of tears, I see Malachi, his face a mask of pure, terrifying rage as he grapples with my attacker. They crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs, snarls and growls ripping from their throats as they struggle for dominance. In the next moment, something incredible happens.

Malachi's form starts to blur, his outline shimmering and shifting like heat rising off asphalt. There's a sickening crack of bone, a wet tearing sound, and his clothes rip away, shredded by the massive, monstrous shape bursting forth from his skin.

In the space of a heartbeat, where once my mate stood, now looms an enormous wolf, its fur a sleek charcoal gray, its eyes glowing an eerie, otherworldly silver-blue. With rippling muscle and gleaming fangs, he towers over the cowering form of my attacker.

*Malachi..?*

I should be terrified. I should be screaming, recoiling in horror at my lover wearing a monster's face. But all I feel is awe, a bone-deep sense of rightness and recognition.

*This is Malachi's true form, the essence of his power and strength.*

...

*He's beautiful...*

With a roar that shakes the very stones beneath my feet, Malachi lunges at my attacker, before they can transform. His massive jaw closes around their throat, and with a vicious twist of his head, he tears it out in a gush of blood and viscera. From where I sit, I can see the intruder convulse, choking on their own gore before going horribly, utterly still. Malachi releases his grip, letting the mangled corpse crumple to the ground in a boneless heap.

For a long, suspended moment, there's only the sound of my ragged breathing, the thundering of my pulse. That is until Malachi turns to me, his huge lupine head lowered, his eyes searching mine with a painfully human expression of concern and apprehension.

He takes a hesitant step towards me, a low whine issuing from his throat, and I realize he's afraid-afraid that I'll reject him, that I'll recoil from his bloodstained muzzle and savage form. *As if I ever could.*

Slowly, shakily, I push to my feet, one hand braced on my belly as I take a step towards him. He goes utterly still, a silent statue of fur and muscle, only the twitch of his ears betraying his tension. "Malachi," I breathe, my voice hoarse from the injury to my throat. I lift a trembling hand, reaching out to him, my fingers aching to sink into his thick ruff. "My love. My mate."

He shudders, a full body ripple that starts at the nose and ends at the tip of his bushy tail. Slowly, he crosses the distance between us in one bound, his bulk settling at my feet as he pushes the side of his head into my palm, nuzzling and licking at my skin with desperate, greedy devotion.

Tears blur my vision as I drop to my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his fur. He smells like the woods and the wild, like home and safety and everything I've ever wanted. I can feel the frantically thudding of his heart against my cheek, each beat echoing the rhythm of my own.

"You saved us," I whisper, my hands fisting in his pelt, anchoring myself to him. "You saved our baby, just like you promised."

He whines, a high, pleading sound, and licks my face, my tears, my lips. I laugh wetly, threading my fingers deeper into his fur, scratching behind his ears in a way I somehow know he likes.

With a final nuzzle into my hands, a low, reassuring rumble vibrates through his chest before he steps back, his massive form slipping from my grasp to face the balcony's edge.

With a grace that belies his size, he leaps up onto the stone railing, his claws clicking against the weathered surface. He throws his head back, and howls, the sound piercing the air like a clarion call, a battle cry and a warning all in one. The hairs on my arms rise, a shiver crawling down my spin at the sheer primal power in that ululating cry. I've never seen him like this, never witnessed this raw, untamed side of him. But somehow, deep in my bones, I know what he's doing. He's calling to his pack, summoning them to his side. He's declaring war on those who would dare threaten what's his, who would seek to harm his mate and unborn child.

As the howl tapers off, echoing in the cavernous vault of the sky, my gaze is drawn back to the crumpled form on the balcony floor.

My attacker.

Now, in the aftermath, I can see him more clearly-a man, broad shouldered and muscular, though still dwarfed by Malachi's human bulk. His hair is dark, black as a raven's wing, his eyes a deep, fathomless brown, staring sightlessly at the pitiless sun.

I don't know him. I've never seen his face before. But I know with a grim, implacable certainty that he won't be the last. He's just the first salvo in a war I never asked for, but one that I'll fight to my last breath nonetheless. For my child. For my mate.

Malachi leaps down from the railing, padding back to my side. There's blood matting his muzzle, flecking his fur, but his eyes are so warm, so full of devotion and concern as they meet mine.

He doesn't have to say it. It's like I can hear his voice in my head.

*"You're safe now. I'm here. I'll always be here."*