Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

**I Penelope I**

My heart feels like a stone in my chest, heavy and cold since yesterday's visit with Malachi. His words echo through my mind, relentless:

*"When I get out of here, I'm taking my son with me."*

*Would he really do it? Take Elio from me?*

I shake my head, bouncing Elio gently as we walk the grounds of Rook's fortress. No. Malachi wouldn't do that. He was upset, hurt, confused. The silver in his system, the stress of captivity, seeing me with Jax's mark-it was all too much. Once he calms down and we can talk properly, it will be okay.

*It has to be okay.*

The morning sun kisses my skin as we follow the winding stone path through the manicured lawns. Elio is quiet against my chest, nestled in the wrap Kira showed me how to use. His steady breathing and tiny weight ground me in a way nothing else can.

I pause at the edge of a small cliff overlooking the ocean, watching the endless blue stretch to the horizon. For weeks, all I could think about was escaping this place, finding a way back to Malachi. But now, with everything I've learned about my heritage, about the conspiracy surrounding the Continental King selection, and with Malachi himself imprisoned somewhere in the depths of this fortress...

The realization hits me: I'm no longer thinking about leaving.

Home is where Malachi is. And if Malachi is here, then here is home at least for now.

A small, restless sound from Elio interrupts my thoughts. He squirms against me, his little face scrunching up in that way that means he's getting hungry. I glance around, looking for a private spot to feed him. The main garden is too exposed, with pack members constantly coming and going. My room is too far away-he'll be wailing by the time we get there.

My eyes land on the entrance to Jax's private garden, just visible around the curve of the path. It's close, secluded, and from what I can see, empty.

I hesitate, biting my lower lip. The garden holds too many memories-that rainy afternoon when Jax's touch sent fire through my veins, the conversations that revealed too much of my heart. And after yesterday's confrontation, the last person I want to encounter is Jax.

*After all, he's the reason Malachi was so angry with me. Isn't he?*

But is he really? The uncomfortable truth is that I did let it happen. I didn't choose the mark, but I've stayed here, lived under his protection, allowed Elio to form a connection with him even if I didn't intend for any of it to happen.

Elio's squirming becomes more insistent, his hunger cries imminent. With a sigh, I make my decision and head toward the garden.

The wrought iron gates stand partially open, as if inviting me in. Inside, the garden is just as beautiful as I remember-exotic flowers in full bloom, stone pathways winding between carefully tended beds, the scent of earth and growth heavy in the air. I find a secluded bench beneath a flowering tree, its cascading blossoms creating a natural curtain of privacy.noveldrama

I settle onto the cool stone, adjusting my dress and positioning Elio to nurse. The moment he latches on, his tiny fists curling against my skin, a wave of love so intense it's almost painful washes over me. It's a drowning kind of love, the kind that makes you feel like you're sinking and soaring at the same time.

"I can't believe how much I love you," I whisper to him, tracing one finger along his perfect cheek. His eyes-Malachi's gray at the moment-gaze up at me with that uncanny awareness that still takes my breath away.

I'm so absorbed in Elio that I don't hear the footsteps until it's too late. "Princess."

My head snaps up to find Jax standing a few feet away, a pruning shear in one hand and a handful of cut flowers in the other. Heat floods my face, and I instinctively move to cover myself, reaching for the edge of the baby wrap.

"Don't," Jax says, his voice gentle. "Please. You don't need to hide. What you're doing is natural, beautiful."

I freeze, uncertain, my embarrassment warring with the practical reality that adjusting now would only disturb Elio's feeding.

"You know, with us... wolves, nudity isn't something to be ashamed of," Jax continues, setting his gardening tools aside but keeping a respectful distance. "Every time we transform back, we're nude. The human preoccupation with covering up is something I've never fully understood."

*Right... It's not sexual.*

*...*

*Not always.*

His matter-of-fact tone somehow eases my discomfort. I relax slightly, though I can't quite meet his eyes.

"I didn't mean to intrude on your space," I say, my voice quiet. "I just needed somewhere private, and this was the closest "

"You're not intruding," he interrupts. "I told you before the garden is yours to visit whenever you like."

A silence falls between us, broken only by Elio's soft nursing sounds. Jax stands perfectly still, his gaze averted to give me some semblance of privacy while still remaining present.

"You saw Malachi yesterday," he says finally, not quite a question.

The pain resurfaces, sharp and fresh. "Yes."

"It didn't go well."

I let out a humorless laugh. "That's an understatement."

*He was there. He knows it didn't go well.*

*...*

*At least he's not taunting me about it.*

Jax takes a tentative step closer, then pauses, as if asking permission. When I don't object, he moves to sit on the far end of the bench, leaving plenty of space between

us.

"He threatened to take Elio from you," he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Fresh tears sting my eyes. "He didn't mean it," I say, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. "He was upset. The silver, the conditions they're keeping him in- anyone would lash out."

"Perhaps," Jax concedes, his gaze finally moving to my face. "But it doesn't excuse the threat."

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"He loves Elio," I insist. "He loves me."

"I know he does," Jax says, surprising me with his sincerity. "But love isn't always enough, princess. Sometimes it's about choices, about how we demonstrate that love."

Something in his tone makes me look up, *really* look at him. There's no triumph in his expression, no satisfaction at Malachi's breakdown. Only concern, and something deeper I can't quite name.

As our eyes meet, I feel it that undeniable pull of the true mate bond, like gravity shifting, like the whole world tilting on its axis to bring us closer together. My breath catches, and Jax's hands tighten on the edge of the bench, his knuckles whitening with the effort of keeping himself in place.

"I don't want to feel this," I whisper, the confession torn from somewhere deep and vulnerable. "I don't want to want you."

"I know," he says simply. "But fighting it only makes it harder."

Elio stirs against me, finished with nursing on one side. I adjust him to the other breast, using the moment to compose myself.

"Do you know what this is?" Jax asks suddenly, reaching for one of the flowers he'd cut. He holds it up a striking blossom with petals the color of midnight that fade to silver at the edges.

"It's beautiful," I say, not understanding the shift in conversation.

"It's called Moonmother's Tears," he says, twirling the stem between his fingers. "It's native to the Northern Tribe lands-your homeland. Legend says it first bloomed where the legendary Moon Goddess shed tears for her mortal lover."

I stare at the flower, something stirring in the recesses of my memory. "I've seen these before," I murmur. "In dreams, maybe. Or..."

"They were your mother's favorite," Jax says quietly. "She had them planted throughout the royal gardens. Rook told me they were the only flowers she would allow in her personal chambers."

*We're the same age, Rook and I. We're twins. Our parents died when we were 5. So how does he remember so much and I remember so little?*

A sudden, unexpected sob catches in my throat. Such a small detail, so seemingly

insignificant, and yet it connects me to the mother I never knew in a way nothing else

has.

"How do you know this?" I ask.

"My family served the Northern Tribe for generations," Jax says, his voice taking on a distant quality. "My father was captain of the royal guard. He died the same night as your parents, trying to protect them."

The revelation sits heavy between us. "You never told me that." "There's a lot I haven't told you," he admits. "Things that are difficult to speak of."

Elio finishes nursing, and I shift him to my shoulder, patting his back gently. As I readjust my dress, Jax politely averts his eyes again, giving me a moment of privacy. "That night when I marked you," he says, still looking away, "I've regretted the way it happened ever since. Not the marking itself—I could never regret that—but the circumstances. The lack of choice."

"Why did you do it?" I ask, the question that's been burning in me for weeks finally finding voice. "You knew I was with Malachi. You knew I was carrying his child."

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Jax is quiet for so long I think he might not answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough with emotion.

"I spent my entire life knowing my true mate was out there somewhere. Feeling her- feeling you at the edges of my consciousness like a distant song. When I finally found you, when I realized who you were..."

He turns to face me, his storm-blue eyes intense. "I tried to resist. For months, I watched you with Malachi, saw how happy you were, and I told myself that was enough. That your happiness was more important than my claim." "What changed?" I ask, Elio now sleeping peacefully against my shoulder.

"I saw how he was with you," Jax says. "How his interest in you began with the baby, not with *you*. And I-" He breaks off, looking away. "I've wanted you from the first moment I sensed you existed, long before I knew your face or name."

His words stir something in me—a conflicted tangle of emotions I've been avoiding examining too closely. He's right about how Malachi and I began. Our first encounter was born of my pain and vulnerability after discovering Donovan's betrayal. Malachi's initial interest was primarily in the baby, in having an heir. His love for me came later. *But does that make it less real? Less valid?*

"Malachi's love for me may have grown over time," I say slowly, "but it did grow. And mine for him. I can't just throw that away. I won't."

"I'm not asking you to," Jax says, surprising me again. "I just want you to understand that you have options. That you deserve to be someone's first choice, not their obligation."

"Malachi doesn't see me as an obligation," I protest, but even as I say it, doubt creeps in. Last night's threats, his possessiveness over Elio, his refusal to listen to me they paint a different picture than the man who held me so tenderly before all this began. As if sensing my turmoil, Jax rises from the bench. But instead of leaving immediately, he turns to face me fully, his eyes filled with a certainty that makes my heart skip.

"You know," he says, his voice low and intimate, "if Elio wasn't in the picture, you would choose me in a heartbeat."

My lips part to protest, but the words die on my tongue as the truth of his statement settles over me like a physical weight.

"And yet,” he continues, "without Elio, Malachi wouldn't be in your life at all. You wouldn't be together if you had never gotten pregnant."

The simple observation strikes me so deeply it makes my breath catch and my heart drop. It's something I've never fully allowed myself to acknowledge that my relationship with Malachi began because of the baby, not because of any deep connection between us. That connection came later.

"I would take care of Elio as if he were my own," Jax says, his eyes drifting to my

sleeping son. "I already feel a bond with him that I can't explain and I haven't even held him. I know you feel it too."

I can't deny it. The way Elio responds to Jax, the inexplicable connection between them despite no blood relation-it's real, and it complicates everything.

"I can't help feeling that someday, you'll choose me, Penelope," he says, his voice

softening. "So I'll wait. For as long as it takes."

A sad smile touches his lips. "Not because I'm patient-believe me, I'm not. But because I know it's only a matter of time before you realize that a life with me is a life where you never have to worry about whether you're right for me." His voice drops to almost a whisper. "You were made for me. Only me. And I for you."

The simple declaration makes my heart skip, momentarily stealing my breath. Before I can respond, he's walking away, leaving me alone with my sleeping son and a storm of conflicting emotions.

I look down at Elio, at his peaceful face, and realize a fundamental truth I've been avoiding: this isn't just about Malachi or Jax or even me anymore. Every choice I make affects this innocent life in my arms.

And sitting here in this garden, surrounded by flowers from a homeland I don't

remember, I finally allow myself to ask the question I've been avoiding:

What do I want? Not what Malachi wants, not what Jax wants, not what Rook wants-

but what do I, Penelope, truly desire for myself and my son?