Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate
⊰ 51 ⊱ Breaking Point

**Malachi **

The scent of Penelope's distress hits me as soon as I enter our bedroom. I find her on the balcony, her back to me, shoulders slumped in defeat. The setting sun casts a golden glow on her skin, but it doesn't hide the angry red mark on her cheek where Tarlac struck her.

I step out onto the balcony, the cool evening air carrying the scent of pine and earth. For a long moment, we stand in silence, the tension thick between us. "Are you okay?" I finally ask, my voice gruff.

Penelope lets out a laugh, but it's a hollow, bitter sound that grates against my nerves. "Am I okay?" she repeats, turning to face me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, tear tracks staining her cheeks. "I feel betrayed, Malachi. You just stood there while he..."

My jaw clenches, anger rising hot and fast. But before I can speak, she sighs, shaking her head.

"But I can't even be mad at you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because you tried to tell me. You tried to warn me and I...” Her voice trails off, heavy with regret.

She looks at me then, and the pain in her eyes is almost unbearable. "I don't think I can do this anymore, Mal."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I watch as her gaze drops to her swollen belly, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm starting to see why you approached me with that initial deal," she says, her voice breaking. "Maybe I should've taken it. M-Maybe I should take it now."

The implications of her words sink in, and I feel a surge of panic.

*She wants to leave. To have the baby and walk away from me, from the pack, from everything we've built together.*

"This hurts so much because I love our baby, and... and I love you," she continues, wiping at her face. "But maybe the best thing for everyone is if I just... go.

""

She tries to move past me, back into the bedroom, but I can't let her. The very thought of her leaving, of losing her and our child, makes my wolf howl in anguish. Without thinking, I reach out, catching her arm.

"No," I growl, the word coming out harsher than I intended. Penelope looks up at me, tears falling freely now. "Mal-"

"Shut up!" I snarl, and she flinches. I don't regret my tone; the anger is too close to the surface, too raw. But I force myself to take a deep breath, knowing that if I give in to my rage, I might actually hurt her. "Just... stop talking. You're going to listen to me."

I can feel my wolf clawing at the surface, demanding I assert my dominance. But I push it down, focusing on the task at hand. "If you're not going to submit, you're going to learn to obey. Because I'm not letting you go, not until I've exhausted every option."

She furrows her brow, confusion mixing with the hurt in her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "There's something called an imprinting mark," I begin, watching her face carefully. "It's different from the mating mark I gave you before. Deeper. More... binding."

I can see the questions in her eyes, so I press on. "The imprinting mark creates a profound connection between mates. It aligns the female more closely with her... feminine nature, enhancing certain... instincts."

"What kind of instincts?" Penelope asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Submission," I say bluntly. "Loyalty. The desire to please her mate."

I watch as understanding dawns on her face, followed quickly by a flash of rebellion. "So what, you want someone who's brain dead?" she asks, and I'm surprised by the lack of venom in her voice. She sounds genuinely curious, maybe even a little afraid. "Someone who just does as she's told?"

"No," I say firmly, reaching out to cup her face. She flinches at my touch, her cheek clearly tender from Tarlac's strike. The sight of her injury makes my blood boil anew, but I don't let the anger consume me. "Submission isn't about following blindly. It's about trusting me to lead you with your best interests in mind. Which is all I've ever tried to do, all I've ever *wanted* for you."

She's quiet for a moment, processing my words. Then, "Why didn't you just do this from the beginning?"

I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up. "Because I don't know what it does to a human," I admit. "I've never heard of anyone doing it before. The risks... they could be significant." Penelope sighs, looking away. I can't tell if she's given up completely or if she's just exhausted. Maybe both. Finally, she nods, whispering a quiet "Okay."

As I watch her, I realize that Seth was right about her. This is who she is. Her rebelliousness, her struggle against authority-it's ingrained in her. It's what's gotten her into so much trouble throughout her life, what led her to that pathetic excuse for a man, Donovan.

*Maybe I've been going about this all wrong. Maybe I've been too gentle, too... soft.*

My hand slides from her face to her throat, fingers wrapping around the delicate column. I apply just enough pressure to make her gasp, her pulse fluttering rapidly beneath my palm.

She looks up at me, and there's a vulnerability in her eyes I've never seen before. It should break my heart, seeing her so defeated. But there's a part of me, a dark, primal part, that's aroused by her helplessness. Maybe it's my dominant nature, the Alpha in me responding to her submission. And I can't even bring myself to feel guilty about it.

"Penelope," I say, my voice low and intense. "You're mine. Do you understand that? No matter what happens, no matter how much you fight it, you *belong* to me."

I can see the conflict in her eyes, the part of her that wants to rebel warring with the part that craves the security I'm offering. She opens her mouth to speak, but I tighten my grip on her throat, silencing her.

"No more words," I growl, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. "No more arguments. It's time you learned your place in this pack, in our relationship. And I'm going to teach you, even if I have to spend every day for the rest of our lives doing it."

The air between us crackles with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. I can smell her fear, her arousal, the complex mix of emotions swirling through her. My own desire rises to meet it, hot and demanding.

With a low growl, I crush my lips to hers in a bruising kiss. It's not gentle or loving, but hungry and possessive. I pour all my frustration, all my fear of losing her, into that kiss. And after a moment of resistance, I feel her melting into me, surrendering to the passion between us.

As I back her towards the bed, I know this isn't a solution. It's not going to fix the underlying problems, the fundamental differences between us. But right now, I don't care. Right now, all I want is to lose myself in her, to remind both of us of the unbreakable bond we share.

Tomorrow, we'll deal with the consequences. Tomorrow, we'll face the pack and the politics and all the challenges that come with our unique situation. But tonight... tonight is just for us.

And I intend to make every second count.