Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate
⊰ 85 ⊱ Irreplaceable Mate

** Malachi I**

The somber atmosphere of the funeral weighs heavily on me as I stand among the gathered werewolves. I've been to my fair share of funerals, but this one... this one feels different. Maybe it's because I can't stop thinking about Penelope, about how easily it could be her in that casket.

My eyes drift to Tarlac, standing stoically by his mate's coffin. He looks calm, collected, betraying no emotion.

*How is he doing it..?*

Penelope's been missing for less than 48 hours, and I'm barely holding it together. The thought of losing her permanently... it's unbearable. My wolf whines inside me, restless and anxious.

I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to howl my frustration to the sky. There's been no news, no leads. Nothing. And here I am, at a fucking funeral, playing at politics when I should be out there, tearing the world apart to find my

mate.

As the ceremony winds down, I make my way towards the exit. I've done my duty, paid my respects. Now I need to get back to my territory, back to the search for Penelope. But before I can leave, a familiar scent hits me. *Tarlac.*

"Malachi," his voice is as cool and controlled as ever. "Leaving so soon?"

I turn to face him, barely suppressing a growl. Even now, even here, his arrogance grates on my nerves. "I've paid my respects," I say, my voice low. "I have other matters to attend to."

Tarlac's lips curl into what might be a smile on anyone else. On him, it just looks predatory. "Of course you do. The race for the throne waits for no one, does it?"

I study him, trying to see past that impenetrable mask.

*How can he be so cold? He's just buried his mate, for fuck's sake.*

Part of me wonders if this is what makes a good king - this ability to compartmentalize, to push aside personal tragedy for the greater good. But another part, the part that aches for Penelope with every breath, rebels against the idea. *Is this really what we need? A king so detached from emotion that even the death of his mate doesn't faze him?*

As I wrestle with these thoughts, a decision forms in my mind. It's risky, potentially stupid, but I'm out of options. "Tarlac," I say, my voice low and urgent. "I need to tell you something. It's about my mate, Penelope." Tarlac's eyebrow raises a fraction, the only sign of his interest. "Oh?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "She's been taken. Kidnapped from our territory. I've been searching, but..." I trail off, the admission of failure bitter on my tongue.

For a moment, just a moment, Tarlac's mask slips. I see a flicker of something in his eyes - sympathy? Understanding? But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that calculating coldness.

"I see," he says, his voice maddeningly calm. "And you're telling me this because...?"

"Because I need help," I grind out, hating how weak it makes me sound. "Because if there's even a chance you might know something, might be able to help... I have to take it. For her."

He's quiet for a long moment, his eyes boring into mine. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, almost kind. "Malachi, let me give you some advice. Find your mate quickly, or let her go and choose another before the crowning. Your chances aren't looking good, not after this."

*Did he really just...*

I take a step back, shock and rage warring within me. "How can you say that?" I snarl, my control slipping. "How can you even suggest―"

"The world goes on, Malachi," Tarlac cuts me off, his voice hard. "It doesn't stop for our grief, for our loss. I'll be taking a new mate soon. You should consider doing the same."

I stare at him, unable to comprehend what I'm hearing. "You're replacing her? Just like that?"

His eyes harden. "I'm securing my future. My pack's future. That's what a *true* Alpha does."

I want to punch him. I want to tear into him with fang and claw, to make him feel something, anything. But I hold myself back, my nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood.

"Penelope is my mate," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "My chosen mate. My *true* mate. I won't abandon her. I won't replace her. Ever."

Tarlac sighs, as if I'm a particularly slow child he's trying to teach. "Then you've already lost, Malachi. A king can't afford such... sentimentality."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, shaking with rage and grief. I watch him go, my mind a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

*Is he right? Am I jeopardizing everything my pack, my shot at the throne for Penelope?*

...

*But how can I not? She's everything to me.*

The thought of giving up on her, of replacing her... it makes me physically ill.

I leave the funeral, my steps heavy, my heart heavier. The drive back to my territory is a blur, my mind replaying Tarlac's words over and over. By the time I reach the mansion, I'm a powder keg of emotion, ready to explode.

I storm into my office, slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the windows. Axel is there, a stack of reports in his hands. One look at my face, and he wisely sets them down and takes a step back.

"Any news?" I growl, even though I know the answer. If there was news, he would have called me immediately.

Axel shakes his head. "Nothing concrete, Alpha. But we're still searching. We won't give up."

I nod, some of the tension leaving my body. At least I can count on my pack's loyalty. "Good. Keep at it. I want updates every hour, even if it's just to tell me there's nothing new."

"Of course, Alpha," Axel says. He hesitates for a moment, then asks, "How was the funeral?"

I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "Educational," I spit out. "Did you know Tarlac's already planning to take a new mate? Apparently, that's what a 'true Alpha' does."

Axel's eyes widen in surprise. "So soon? But..."

"But nothing," I cut him off. "According to Tarlac, the world doesn't stop for our grief. We move on. We replace what we've lost and keep going."

I can see the conflict in Axel's eyes. He's loyal to me, but he's also pragmatic. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head, weighing the political implications of Tarlac's actions against our continued search for Penelope. "*Don't*," I growl, before he can speak. "Don't even think about suggesting what Tarlac did. Penelope is my mate. My only mate. I won't give up on her. I won't replace her. Ever."

Axel nods, but I can see the doubt in his eyes. It's the same doubt I saw in Tarlac's eyes, in Elijah's. The same doubt that's starting to creep into my own mind in the darkest hours of the night.

*Am I being foolish? Am I putting my own desires above the needs of my pack, above the future of our kind?*

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

*No. Penelope isn't just my mate. She's carrying my child. Our future. I can't give up on her. I won't.*

"Keep searching," I tell Axel, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Use every resource we have. Call in every favor. I don't care what it takes. We find Penelope."

Axel nods and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. I'm left alone with my thoughts, with the crushing weight of responsibility and the ache of Penelope's absence.

I move to the window, looking out over my territory. Somewhere out there, Penelope is waiting for me. She needs me. And I'll be damned if I let her down. Tarlac's words echo in my mind.

*“A king can't afford such sentimentality."*

Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm not cut out to be king. But if being king means giving up on Penelope, on our child, then maybe I don't want to be king.

I close my eyes, reaching out through our bond. It's faint, so faint I can barely feel it, but it's there. A lifeline in the darkness.

*Hold on, little rabbit. I'm coming for you. I will find you.*