Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

**I Malachi I**

The sterile scent of the hospital fills my senses as I pace the waiting room, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The incessant beeping of machines and distant chatter of hospital staff grate on my nerves, amplifying the fear clawing at my throat. A cold sweat dampens my skin as the minutes drag on with no word about Penelope's condition.

*Please, let them be okay.*

I've never been a man of faith, never put much stock in gods or fate. But now, faced with the prospect of losing everything that matters, I find myself desperately bargaining with any higher power that might be listening. *I'll be better. I'll be the man they deserve. Just don't take them from me.*

The click of the door jolts me from my spiraling thoughts, and I turn to face the doctor as he steps into the room. He wears a carefully neutral expression, giving nothing away, and it takes every ounce of my fraying control not to grab him by the throat and demand answers.

"How is she?" I ask, my voice rough. "How's Penelope?"

"Ms. Stone is stable," he assures me. "The pain she experienced was due to a combination of stress and dehydration. We've given her fluids and a mild sedative to help her rest."

I exhale shakily, dragging a hand down my face.

*Stress. Of course.*

The past week has been hell on both of us, the constant threat of attack wearing away at our nerves and our strength. I should have seen it. I should have done more to shield her from the worst of it. "And the baby?" I press, my gut twisting.

The doctor's expression shifts just slightly, a stern look playing on his face. "The baby is showing signs of distress," he admits. "We're monitoring closely, but if Ms. Stone's condition doesn't improve, we may need to consider delivering early." A new kind of fear grips me, cold and visceral.

*Too soon. It's too soon. They're not ready.*

"I need to see her," I say abruptly, already moving towards the door. "Now."

The doctor shifts to block my path, his face a mask of professional sympathy. "I'm sorry, Mr. Reed, but only immediate family is allowed in the patient's room at this time."

Frustration surges through me, hot and bitter.

*Only immediate family?*

In the eyes of the human world, maybe we're not bound by law and paper. But in the ways that matter, the ways that are written in blood and moonlight, Penelope is mine. My mate, my heart, the mother of my child. These human rules, these limitations... they're suffocating. I briefly consider the legal process. Marriage, they call it. A symbolic gesture, but one that would grant me the rights and access I'm now being denied. *Damn it.*

I grit my teeth, fighting down the urge to flash my eyes, to let the beast peek through and cow this man into submission. But I know that will only make things worse and draw unwanted attention to our situation. So instead, I force myself to take a breath, to meet the doctor's gaze with a level stare of my own. "Doc," I say quietly, "there's no one else. I'm all she has. The baby...I'm his father."

I see the moment he relents, his shoulders sagging almost imperceptibly. He glances around the empty waiting room, taking in the stark absence of any other concerned loved ones. "Alright," he sighs. "I'll let you see her. But keep it brief, and don't disturb her if she's sleeping."

I nod, already shouldering past him and into the sterile hallway beyond. "Thanks, Doc."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him shaking his head, hearing him mutter incoherently under his breath as he disappears into the bowels of the hospital. I stride towards Penelope's room with a single-minded purpose and an uneasiness that I can't seem to shake.

*I should have taken her to the pack doctor.*

...

*I should have trusted our own people to take care of her, not these humans with their endless red tape and damn restrictions.*

But a part of me had feared what our healer would say. That the only way to save them both would be to cut the baby out, to deliver it months too early into a world that isn't ready. At least here, with all their machines and medicines, there is a chance. A slim hope to cling to.

*I might have to go through the legal process in the human world so that this never happens again.*

...

*Claim her publicly, bind her to me in ways they can't ignore or deny.*

The thought sits uneasily, memories of our early days together rising unbidden to the surface of my mind. I think back to that tense confrontation, a mere week after I'd brought her to live at the estate...

She was so angry, so defiant. Glaring at me across the dining room table, her eyes sparking with resentment and hardly leashed fury. "I want to leave," she said, her voice low but unwavering. "I don't want to be here anymore."

Rage had exploded in my chest, white-hot and blinding. In an instant, I was on my feet, the chair clattering to the floor behind me as I moved to her. "You'll stay where I want you to stay," I snarled. "That was the deal. You don't get to back out now just because you don't like the terms."

She scrambled out of her seat, backing away even as she brandished a flimsy little steak knife in one trembling hand. "Don't," she warned, tears glistening in her eyes. "Don't come any closer. I'll hurt you."

I laughed, mocking her, the sound harsh and grating even to my own ears. In a blur of motion, I knocked the knife away, sending it skittering across the floor as I crowded her back against the wall. She stared up at me, chest heaving, pulse fluttering like a frightened rabbit beneath the delicate skin of her throat.

"You have no idea what I am," I rumbled, braving my hands on either side of her head. "What I'm capable of... You can fight me, little rabbit. But you won't win. You can't.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but her gaze never wavered. "How can you be so cruel?" she whispered brokenly. "I am a person. This baby is a person. He's not some prize you can just claim."

Her arms had curled protectively over her stomach, shielding our child.

That moment, it chipped something in me. The way she was so determined to protect our child, it sparked something in me I thought had burned out when my former mate rejected me. After that, I was set to find a reason, any reason why she wouldn't be a good mother. I had to. Because if I couldn't... if I couldn't prove that she was unfit to take care of a child, then I'd be forced to confront the fact that I was in the wrong.

But instead, somehow, I only found more reasons why she'd make the perfect mate for me and why she was meant to carry and raise my pup.

The memory gutters out as I reach the door to Penelope's room, my heart a leaden weight in my chest.

*I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong for treating her like that. Like she was property, like she was something I bought to breed.*

With a shaking hand, I push the door open, terrified of what I'll find on the other side. But as my gaze lands on Penelope's still form, relief crashes through me, so acute it nearly brings me to my knees.

She looks pale and fragile against the white sheets, her auburn hair splayed across the pillow like a splash of autumn leaves. There are deep shadows beneath her eyes, her lips chapped and colorless. But her chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the monitor beside her bed beeping out a reassuring cadence.

*She's alive. They're both alive.*

I cross to her side, sinking into the chair placed next to her bed. With a gentleness I didn't know I possessed, I take her hand in mine, mindful of the IV line snaking from her wrist. Her fingers are cold, the skin dry and papery, and I rub them gently between my palms, trying to imbue them with my warmth and strength.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, the words scraping my throat like broken glass. "I'm so fucking sorry, Penny. For everything. The way I treated you, the things I said..."

I swallow hard, blinking against the sudden burn of tears. "I was an asshole. A monster. I never deserved you..." I murmur. My gaze drifts to the swell of her belly, to the tiny life fighting to survive within. "Either of you. But I'll do better. I promise I'll do better."

She doesn't stir, her breathing deep and even in the grip of medicated sleep. But I like to think she hears me anyway, on some deep, unconscious level. That she feels the sincerity in my words, the vow taking root in my bones.

"We're going to be a family," I promise her softly. "A real family." I plant a kiss on her knuckles, my lips lingering on her cool skin. "Just be okay," I breathe, a desperate plea. "You have to be here, Penny. I can't do this without you. We have so much left to do."

At her bedside, I simply sit, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the rhythmic blip of her heart monitor. Waiting for her to open her eyes. To come back to me.

*It's not too late. We have time. We have a chance.*

...

*I won't waste it. This time... this time, I won't waste it.*