Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate
⊰ 53 ⊱ The Looming Hunt

**I Malachi I**

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Penelope's sleeping form. I've been awake for hours, unable to tear my eyes away from her. Last night was... intense. Primal. A part of me worries I was too rough with her, despite her assurances to the contrary.

As if sensing my gaze, Penelope stirs, her eyes fluttering open. "Morning," she mumbles, a small smile playing on her lips. "How are you feeling?" I ask, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

She stretches, wincing slightly. "A little sore, but in the best way possible," she says, her cheeks flushing. "Stop worrying, Mal. I'm fine."

I nod, not entirely convinced. But there's something different about her this morning. The usual defiance in her eyes has been replaced by something softer, more submissive. It's like I've tamed every rebellious bone in her body, and the thought fills me with an odd mix of pride and unease.

As we get ready for the day, I find myself watching her every move, looking for any sign of discomfort or regret. She catches me staring more than once, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"I'm not made of glass, you know," she teases, her voice light but with an underlying note of exasperation.

I open my mouth to respond, but a knock at the door interrupts us. Derek's voice filters through. "Alpha, your father is here."

I feel Penelope tense beside me. My father's visits are rare and never without purpose. "Stay here," I tell her, my tone brooking no argument. "Derek will keep an eye on you. Don't leave his sight."

For a moment, I see a flicker of the old Penelope in her eyes, ready to protest. But then she catches herself, nodding quietly.

*Good. She's finally getting it.*

...

*Maybe I should've done that a long time ago.*

As I make my way through the halls of the mansion, my footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors, my mind racing with questions.

*What could my father want? Has he heard about the incident with Tarlac? Is this about the upcoming Hunt?*

I find him standing by the window, his imposing figure silhouetted against the morning light. He turns as I enter, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Malachi," he greets me, his voice gruff. "It's good to see you, son."

I brace myself, cutting to the chase as I square my shoulders. "What is this about?"

He doesn't mince words. "I'm here because I'm worried about Penelope's safety during the Hunt. She's human, Malachi. This ritual... it's not meant for them. And that child she's carrying-it's crucial for our family's legacy. You more than anyone should understand that."

I feel my hackles rise, a growl building in my chest. "I have it under control," I snap, more defensively than I intend.

My father raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by my outburst. "Do you? Because from what I've heard, things haven't exactly been smooth sailing."

*Of course, he's heard. Word's probably gotten around to every fucking pack in the area now.*

I clench my fists, fighting to keep my temper in check. The wolf inside me paces restlessly, bristling at the implied criticism. "We've had some... adjustments to make," I grind out. "But Penelope is adapting well."

He nods, but I can see the doubt in his eyes. "There's something else you need to consider," he says, his tone hardening to a stern one. "Elijah will be participating in the Hunt."

*Elijah. Damn it.*

With everything that's happened, I'd forgotten about my brother's potential involvement. Elijah, who's been absent from the Lunar Revel so far, gunning for the same position I am the next chosen continental king. "Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

My father's expression softens slightly, a look of understanding dancing in his eye. "I know things have been strained between you two since... since Fallon died. But Malachi, you need to be prepared. Elijah won't hesitate to use this Hunt to his advantage."

I look at him sharply, my eyes narrowing. "Whose side are you on?"

He sighs, suddenly looking older than his years. "I love both my sons," he says quietly. "But you, Malachi... you were born to lead. Your mother and I have always known that."

His words catch me off guard. My father has never been one for emotional declarations, never been one for praises either.

I part my lips to respond, but before I can, there's another knock at the door. It's time for the pre-Hunt banquet.

The great hall is a cacophony of sights, sounds, and smells when we arrive. Bodies press close, the air thick with the mingled scents of meat, spices, and excitement. I keep Penelope close, my hand at the small of her back as we navigate the crowd. Her warmth against my palm is reassuring, grounding me.

But I can feel her tension, see the way her nose wrinkles at the overwhelming smells. Her face pales, and she leans in close. "I need to use the restroom," she whispers, her voice strained.

I hesitate, reluctant to let her out of my sight. The crush of bodies around us suddenly seems more threatening. But I can see the urgency in her eyes, the way she's swallowing hard against the nausea. "Alright," I concede. "But be quick." As I watch her weave through the crowd, a nagging feeling of unease settles in my gut. The wolf in me whines, a warning about letting her go off on her own. And after a while, I'm unable to shake the feeling, I decide to follow her. I track her scent easily through the throng, her unique blend of honey and lavender a beacon to my heightened senses. But as I near the restrooms, another scent hits me. Familiar. Bittersweet. It stops me in my tracks, memories flooding back in a dizzying rush.

My heart racing, I push open the restroom door. And there they are-Penelope and the blonde from a couple of nights ago, staring at each other in shocked silence.

Julia.

The air crackles with tension as three sets of eyes meet. Penelope, her face a mixture of confusion and dawning realization. Julia, her blue eyes wide with surprise and something else regret? And me, caught between my past and my present, frozen in the doorway as the weight of the moment settles over us all.