Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate
⊰ 82 ⊱ In the Wolf's Den

**I Penelope I**

The mansion looms before us, a sprawling structure that seems to blend seamlessly with the lush tropical landscape. As we draw closer, I realize it's not *just* a mansion-it's more like a castle.

Intricate carvings adorn the massive wooden doors at the entrance-wolves, I realize with a start. The detail is incredible I can almost hear their silent howls, feel the power emanating from their stone forms. It's beautiful and terrifying all at

once.

As we approach, I become acutely aware of the eyes upon us. Pack members are scattered throughout the grounds, their gazes following our every move. Some openly stare, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Others try to be more discreet, watching from the corners of their eyes, but their wariness is palpable.

Rook's hand on my lower back guides me, his touch a constant reminder of my captivity. I keep my head down, but I can feel the weight of their stares. The air is thick with tension, and I can almost taste their distrust of the stranger in their midst.

*I don't want to be here. I want to go home...*

The doors swing open silently as we approach, and a rush of cool air greets us, raising goosebumps on my arms. Or perhaps it's the heavy atmosphere that chills me to the bone.

The entrance hall is cavernous, its high ceiling adorned with elaborate chandeliers that cast a soft, warm glow. The floors are polished marble, so shiny I can see our reflections in them. As we cross the hall, staff members pause in their tasks to watch us pass. Their expressions are a careful mix of respect for their Alpha and suspicion towards me. Some bow their heads to Rook, but their eyes linger on me, filled with questions and mistrust. It's clear that even escorted by their Alpha, I'm seen as an intruder in their *domain*.

We climb a grand staircase, the plush carpet muffling our steps. The upper floor is a maze of corridors, all identically decorated with rich tapestries and ornate sconces. I try to keep track of the turns we make, but it's hopeless. This place is designed to confuse, to disorient.

*How am I ever going to get out of here? Which hall is which?*

...

*Like it matters. I can never outrun them. I'm so weak compared to them...*

When Rook finally stops, it's in front of a door that looks no different from the dozens we've passed. He opens it and gestures for me to enter. I hesitate for a moment, my heart racing.

*What's waiting for me on the other side?*

"Go on," Rook says, his voice low but commanding.

Taking a deep breath, I step into the room. It's large and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a breathtaking view of the ocean. The décor is elegant but not ostentatious-a king-sized bed with crisp white linens, a comfortable-looking seating area, a writing desk. Under different circumstances, it might be a dream vacation suite.

But the circumstances are what they are, and this beautiful room is nothing more than a gilded cage.

Rook follows me in, closing the door behind him. "This will be your room," he says, his tone neutral. "I hope you'll be comfortable here."

I don't respond, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor. The memory of his anger on the plane is still fresh, and I don't dare risk provoking him again. "Penelope," he says, his voice softer now. "I know this is difficult for you to understand, but I'm doing this to protect you. To protect us both."

I nod silently, still not meeting his eyes. I can feel him watching me, probably waiting for a response, but I can't bring myself to speak.

I won't. Not to him.

After a long moment, Rook sighs. "I hope that one day, we can have the relationship I've always wanted for us. The brother-sister bond we were meant to have."

His words stir something in me confusion, anger, fear but I push it all down. I simply nod again, my hands clasped tightly in front of me.

"Get some rest," he says finally. "We'll talk more later."

With that, he turns and leaves, the door closing softly behind him. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, feeling utterly lost and alone.

*I'm never going home again. I'm never going to see Malachi again.*

*My son is never going to know his father... *

A knot forms at the edge of my throat, the bridge of my nose stinging. Tears form in my eyes, but before they can fall, a knock startles me from my thoughts. I blink them away as quickly as they came. *Be strong. You can't fall apart. Not now. Not again.*

"Come in," I call, my voice sounding stronger than I feel.

The door opens, and a young woman enters, carrying a tray of food. Her face is set in a neutral mask, her movements efficient but not particularly warm.

"I've brought your meal," she says, her tone businesslike. She sets the tray down on a nearby table, then turns to face me.

*Maybe she can help me. Please...*

Desperation suddenly wells up inside me. Before I can think better of it, I blurt out, "Please, can you help me? I need to get out of here, I need to-"

The maid's expression shifts instantly, her eyes hardening with a mix of anger and disgust. "I'm not here for you," she snaps, cutting me off. "I'm here for my Alpha. If it were up to me, you wouldn't even be in this house." The harshness of her words make me flinch, and I take a step back, stunned by the venom in her voice.

"Don't mistake my presence for kindness," she continues, her tone icy. "I serve the pack, and the pack alone. You'd do well to remember that."

With that, she turns on her heel and strides to the door. Before leaving, she shoots me one last contemptuous look. "Enjoy your meal... *prisoner*."

The door slams shut behind her, leaving me alone with the echo. I sink onto the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly weak. The full realization hits me then: I have no allies here, not even among the staff.

As I pick at the food she brought, I try to make sense of everything that's happened. Rook's claims of brotherhood, his talk of protection, the suspicion in the eyes of the pack members, and now this hostile encounter with the maid. None of it adds up.

*I can't trust anyone here, not even a little bit. I'm truly on my own...*