Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate
⊰ 47 ⊱ A Question of Control

** Malachi I**

The night air does little to cool my temper as I move toward the front doors of the mansion. Tarlac's words echo in my mind, each one a barb designed to provoke and unsettle. I need to find Penelope, to make sure she's alright after that display earlier. But more than that, I need to reaffirm our bond, to show the pack that we're united, unshakeable.

As I approach the house, a faint sound catches my attention. A moan, low and pained. Immediately, my senses go on high alert.

*Is she hurt? Did someone follow her inside?*

I quicken my pace, following the sound to our bedroom. As I draw closer, I realize there's only one heartbeat in the room. Just Penelope. But the moans continue, growing in intensity. *What the hell is going on?*

I pause outside the door, my enhanced hearing picking up every little sound. The rustle of fabric, the catch in Penelope's breath, the wet sound of... *Oh.*

Realization hits me like a physical blow.

*She's masturbating. In the middle of a fucking pack gathering.*

For a moment, I'm frozen, a maelstrom of emotions churning inside me. Confusion, anger, and beneath it all, a primal surge of arousal that I immediately try to squash.

*Why would she do this now? Here? Doesn't she realize how this looks?*

A movement down the hall catches my eye. Two of my guards are standing there, trying and failing to look nonchalant. But I can see the way their nostrils flare, scenting Penelope's arousal. I can see the gleam in their eyes, the barely suppressed grins.

Rage floods through me, hot and overwhelming. This isn't just embarrassing. It's a direct challenge to my authority, my ability to satisfy my mate. In one world, it makes me look weak.

I stalk towards the guards, barely containing the growl building in my chest. "If you value your lives," I snarl, "you'll forget everything you've heard and get the fuck out of here. Now."

They scramble to obey, practically falling over themselves in their haste to escape. But the damage is done. By morning, the whole pack will know about this. I can already hear the whispers, the snide comments.

The human Luna, so unsatisfied she has to pleasure herself at a pack gathering. The Alpha, so weak he can't even control his mate.

I turn back to the bedroom door, my hand on the knob. Part of me wants to burst in there, to demand an explanation. But another part, the part that still sees Penelope as fragile, human, holds me back. Taking a deep breath, I push the door open quietly.

The sight that greets me sends a jolt straight to my core. Penelope is sprawled across our bed, her emerald dress hiked up around her waist, one hand working furiously between her thighs. Her head is thrown back, lips parted in silent ecstasy, completely lost in her own world.

For a moment, I'm transfixed. She's beautiful like this, wild and uninhibited. Her scent fills the air, a heady mix of arousal and something uniquely Penelope that makes my wolf howl. Despite my anger, I feel my body responding, my cock hardening against my will.

*I should stop this.*

But something holds me back. Maybe it's the way her face is pinched, not just with pleasure but with something that looks almost like pain. Or maybe it's the quiet desperation in her movements, like she's chasing something more than just release.

So I stand there, silent and still, as Penelope brings herself to climax. Her back arches, a soft, broken cry escaping her lips as she comes. For a moment, she just lies there, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin in the dim light. And then I see it. The way her face crumples, just for a second, before she pulls herself together. She looks... sad. Lost. It hits me then that this wasn't about pleasure, not really. This was about escape. A moment's release from the pressure, the expectations, the crowd of people just outside our door.

Guilt mixes with my arousal and anger, and I'm conflicted. I should have seen how overwhelmed she was. I should have protected her better.

Before I can decide what to do, Penelope's eyes flutter open. She turns her head and sees me standing there. Her eyes go wide, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Mal!" she gasps, scrambling to sit up and pull down her dress. "I... I didn't hear you come in. I'm so sorry, I just..."

She trails off, clearly mortified. I'm at a crossroads. Part of me, the Alpha, wants to scold her for her reckless behavior. For putting us in a potentially compromising position. But another part, the part that loves her, wants to gather her in my arms and soothe away whatever pain drove her to this.

In the end, it's the Alpha that wins out. It has to. We can't afford any more slip-ups, not with Tarlac circling like a vulture.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Penelope?" I snarl, advancing into the room. "Do you have any idea what you've done? What this looks like?"

She shrinks back, pulling her dress down further as if it could shield her from my anger. "I didn't think... I was just feeling so overwhelmed and-"

"Overwhelmed?" I cut her off, my voice sharp with disbelief and rage. "So you decided to finger yourself in the middle of a pack gathering? With guards right outside the door who could hear every fucking moan?"

Tears well up in her eyes, but I press on, too angry to stop now. "Do you know what this does to my reputation? To our standing in the pack? We're already under scrutiny because you're human, and now this?"

Her face crumples, tears spilling down her cheeks. Normally, the sight of her crying would shatter my resolve, make me want to gather her in my arms and soothe away her pain. But tonight, with the stress of Tarlac's threats, that... *woman* showing up here, and now this incident... I'm too far gone.

Instead of softening, I feel my anger harden into something cold and bitter. "For fuck's sake, Penelope," I snarl, my voice dripping with disdain. "You crying isn't going to fix this. Do you have any idea how weak this makes us look? How it undermines everything I've been working for?"

She flinches at my words like I'm physically striking her, and she curls in on herself, her sobs growing louder, more desperate. For a moment, I feel a twinge of regret.

*What the hell am I supposed to do about this? How do I handle this?*

Part of me wants to apologize, to take it all back. But I can't. I won't. Because maybe this is exactly the problem. I've been too soft, too lenient. I've let her human fragility dictate too much, and look where it's gotten us. *I should've never let it get this far. This is on me.*

"Clean yourself up and go to bed," I mutter, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "I'm sending everyone home. We'll deal with this in the morning."

Without another word, without even a backward glance, I storm out of the room. As I slam the door behind me, I can still hear her muffled sobs. Each one is like a knife to my gut, but I force myself to keep walking.

I've got damage control to do, a pack to manage, and a future to secure. I can't afford to let sentiment cloud my judgment. Not now. Not ever again.

*I need to get my house in order and under some fucking control.*