Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

**Malachi

**

I make my way across the mansion towards the dungeon entrance, the grand house just beginning to come alive. I've risen earlier than usual, ensuring Penelope would still be asleep. The last thing I need is for her to worry about me speaking to Rook again. The memory of her tears, her pleas, still echoes in my mind, a haunting image I can't shake.

As I descend the stone steps into the dungeon, the temperature drops noticeably. The air grows thick with the scent of damp stone and old blood, a lingering scent of last night's interrogation. Each step I take echoes off the walls, my mind wandering back to Penelope and her supposed relationship to Rook.

If Rook truly is her brother, it confirms what I've suspected for a while now-Penelope is a werewolf. But that raises even more questions, each one more unsettling than the last.

*How has she never shifted?*

The thought that's been nagging at me for weeks now resurfaces with renewed force, impossible to ignore.

*Could she be one of those rare wolves—a runt-who are never able to access their wolf?*

It's an uncommon occurrence, but not unheard of. These wolves are essentially human, lacking the ability to shift or tap into their supernatural abilities. The idea sends a chill down my spine, colder than the dungeon air around me.

I stop dead in my tracks, my hand gripping the rough stone wall for support as the realization hits me. Penelope, my beautiful, strong mate, could very well be a runt. The implications of this are staggering. If word got out, it could destroy my campaign for Continental King. The mate of a potential king, unable to shift? It would be seen as a weakness, a flaw in my lineage.

*It would all be over.*

...

*Would it be so bad?*

I shake my head vigorously, as if I could physically dislodge the thought. My fingers scrape against the wall, the pain grounding me. *She's still young.*

There have been cases-particularly in women-where their wolves aren't unlocked until they turn 25. Penelope's only 21 now. *There's still time. There has to be.

Taking a deep breath, I continue down the corridor. The flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows on the walls, the atmosphere eerie. As I round the corner, I spot Seth standing guard.

Our eyes meet, and despite our lifelong friendship, he snaps to attention. "Alpha," Seth greets me, his voice echoing in the dungeon.

I nod in acknowledgment, then turn my attention to the cell behind him. Rook is sitting on the concrete floor, his back against the damp stone wall. He looks better than he did last night-still fatigued, the bruises on his face a mottled purple, but no longer on the brink of collapse. When he sees me, his face remains impassive, but I can hear his heart pounding wildly in his chest, a frantic rhythm that betrays his calm exterior.

Seth moves to open the cell, his hand already reaching for the keys at his belt. I stop him with a raised hand. "Leave him," I order, my voice low but firm.

Seth turns to me, confusion evident in his eyes. I nod towards the exit, the torch flames reflecting in his questioning gaze. "Make sure no one comes in."

He hesitates for a moment, years of training warring with years of friendship. But loyalty wins out. He nods, a quick, sharp movement, and backs out of the cell. His footsteps echo down the corridor as he leaves, the sound growing fainter until it's swallowed by the oppressive silence of the dungeon.

I grab a chair from against the wall, its legs scraping loudly against the stone floor as I drag it into the cell. I lower myself onto it, the old wood creaking under my weight. Rook and I are face to face now, barely an arm's length apart. I can smell the dried blood on his skin, see the way his chest rises and falls with each careful breath.

I wait until I hear the heavy dungeon door shut in the distance before speaking. "How are you feeling?" I ask, keeping my voice neutral, though the wolf in me still snarls for answers.

Rook scoffs, a hint of a smirk playing at his split lip. "Great," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Despite everything, I can't help but see a flash of Penelope in that defiant expression.

I chuckle, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "That smart mouth must run in the family," I say, thinking of Penelope's occasional sass.

Silence falls between us, and I study Rook, searching for any family resemblance to Penelope. It's there, I realize with a start. In the curve of his jaw, the color of his eyes. Little details that I might have missed before, but now seem glaringly obvious.

"It seems Penelope's convinced you're her brother," I finally say, breaking the silence.

Rook meets my gaze steadily, his hazel eyes-so like Penelope's unwavering. "And what do you think?"

I pause, considering my words carefully. The weight of this moment, of what it could mean for Penelope, for our future, sits heavy on my shoulders. "I think it's convenient that you've convinced her," I say slowly, measuring each word. "But this is the most I've been able to get out of you so far. I'll give you credit-you're tough. But until I have more to go on, you're staying in this cell."

Rook goes quiet, his gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, I think he's not going to say anything else. Then he speaks, his voice low and guarded. "How do I know I can trust you?"

I lean forward, the chair creaking beneath me. My eyes lock onto his, and I let a hint of my Alpha power seep into my voice. "It's you who needs to earn my trust, not the other way around."

Rook nods, letting out a deep breath that seems to deflate him. He seems to be weighing his options, deciding how much to reveal.

Finally, he speaks, each word measured and careful. "There are a lot of people who want to hurt me, a lot of people who want to hurt Penelope. The good thing is that until you brought her into the werewolf world, everyone thought she was dead."

My wolf stirs at the mention of threats to Penelope, a low growl building in my chest. "Who's after her?" I demand, my voice rough with barely contained anger.

Rook hesitates, and I can see the internal struggle playing out on his face. I lean in closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. My voice is low and intense, laden with promise. "I would do anything to protect her. She's my mate, the mother of my child. I would burn the world down before letting anyone hurt her."

Rook scoffs, but there's a flicker of respect in his eyes. "You don't know what's coming," he says, his voice heavy. "The pack that attacked my family and destroyed the pack I grew up in is still out there. And come the day of crowning the new Continental King, they'll be back."

I feel my body tense, every muscle coiled and ready for action. My wolf snarls at the threat, and I have to fight to keep it contained. "Explain," I growl, the word more animal than human.

"Everyone knows you're leading the race, tied with Tarlac," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "This pack... they want a king they can have in their pocket, and you're too straight of an arrow. You aren't the King they want, and unless the King being crowned can be bent, this next King to be crowned will be the shortest reign a Continental King has ever served."

The implications of his words hit me like a punch to the chest. A threat not just to me, not just to Penelope, but to the entire werewolf hierarchy. My mind races, the weight of it all threatening to crush me, but I force myself to remain steady. I lean forward, our faces just inches apart, my voice low and dangerous. "Who is it, Rook? Who's behind this?"

Rook meets my gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising with the effort. The air between us is charged with tension, the moment stretching out like an eternity.

Just as Rook opens his mouth to speak, a commotion erupts from above. The dungeon door slams open with a resounding bang that echoes through the stone corridors. The sound of running feet follows, growing louder with each passing second.

My head snaps towards the cell entrance, every sense on high alert. I'm on my feet in an instant, the chair clattering to the floor behind me. Rook tenses, pressing himself back against the wall.

Seth appears at the cell door, his face flushed and his breathing heavy. His eyes are wide with panic, a look I've never seen on my usually composed friend.

"Alpha!" he gasps out, his voice tight with urgency. "There's a situation outside. You need to come now!"