Page 21 of The Alpha Under My Bed (The Chosen #1)

Twenty-One

ELEANOR

I was still shaking. My body was wrecked, boneless, soaked in his scent, in his cum, in the fucking bond that pulsed hot and heavy inside me like a second heartbeat.

It was done.

The claiming. The bond. The betrayal.

And I had let it happen.

Mal’s arms were still wrapped around me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath slow, steady—sated. His fingers traced lazy circles down my spine, unhurried, possessive, like he had all the time in the world. Like he hadn’t just spent weeks lying to me.

I swallowed, my throat raw, my pulse thrumming in my ears. I needed to move. Needed to breathe. Needed to get the fuck away. But the second I tried to shift, his arms tightened.

A slow, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest—indulgent, knowing—like he could feel it. The exact moment I woke up and realized exactly what I had done.

I went still. Too still.

Because suddenly, everything became too much to bear. His scent was overwhelming, intoxicating. The bond between us thrummed with a raw, pulsing intensity, thick and suffocating, pressing in on me from every direction. The ache between my legs was unbearable, a constant reminder of his presence, and the sharp burn of the bite mark on my throat still seared with heat, a claim that would never fade. The weight of his knot, still deep inside me, held me in place, and I couldn't escape it. And worse? The unbearable truth that he had never truly been a stranger to me.

That the alpha I had spent weeks falling apart for had been him the entire time.

My best friend.

My Mal.

A jagged breath ripped from my chest. Too fast. Too loud. Mal shifted, his nose brushing the hinge of my jaw, his voice low and thick with satisfaction.

“Easy, sweetheart.”

His lips skimmed my mark, his tongue flicking out to taste it—to taste me.

He fucking knew. He knew I was about to break.

And that’s when it happened.

The blind, white-hot rage. The devastation. The unbearable, mind-numbing betrayal.

I wrenched back. Tried to. His arms didn’t budge. A sharp sound tore from my throat—half a sob, half a snarl.

“Let me go.”

Mal sighed, but finally, finally, his grip loosened. The second he did, I ripped myself away, scrambling back, dragging the sheets with me. My back hit the headboard, my body coiled so tight it hurt, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. But I could still feel him inside me. Still ached from him. Still wanted him. And that was the worst fucking part.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms as I forced myself to breathe past the heat burning behind my eyes.

My best friend.

My alpha.

My fucking captor.

“You lied to me,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, thick with the weight of the truth.

Mal didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. His expression remained stone-cold, unreadable, because of course, he knew this moment was coming. Of course, he had already prepared for it, for every word, every glance, every shred of my pain. Of course, he’d been playing the long game, all along, waiting for the perfect moment.

And that—that realization—made me want to tear him apart.

The weight of it all crashed down on me, an unrelenting tidal wave of betrayal, fury, and something far worse—devastation. It clawed at my throat, tightened around my ribs, turned my insides to raw, twisted knots.

Mal had been my safe place. The one constant in a life full of chaos. The person I trusted more than anyone.

And yet, all this time, he’d been lying to me.

Manipulating me.

Playing both sides while I crumbled, desperate and broken, clinging to him, oblivious to the fact that the alpha I had fallen apart over had always been him.

My pulse thundered, rage and confusion twisting together until I could barely think straight. I stumbled back a step, shaking, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt. My mind tried to reconcile the two versions of him—the Mal I had loved and the alpha who had been pulling my strings all along.

But my body didn’t care.

It still hummed with the aftershocks of the bond.

Still ached for his touch.

Still tightened with every breath he took.

“You,” I choked out, my voice wrecked, raw, barely above a whisper. “You were him. The whole time.”

The words tasted like poison on my tongue, and I hated—hated—how my body still ached for him, still wanted to crawl into his arms even as my mind screamed at me to run.

Mal’s eyes darkened, the corner of his lips twitching as he took a step forward, his scent curling around me now, unmasked, potent.

“I’ve always been yours, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction, like this was exactly where he wanted me. Like this was always how it was supposed to be.

“You weren’t ready to see it.”

The final fucking straw.

I snapped.

My hand flew out before I could stop it, cracking against his jaw with enough force to sting my palm. His head barely moved from the impact, but his eyes flashed. Something wicked curled at the edges of his smirk as he exhaled slowly—like he had been waiting for me to snap. Like he wanted this.

“You lied to me!” My voice shook, my chest heaving as the betrayal dug its claws deeper, twisting, cutting.

“You let me think—God, you let me think I was losing my fucking mind over you! Over some stranger, when it was you the whole time!”

His smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened, settling into something dark and satisfied.

“Didn’t hear you complaining last night, omega,” he said, voice slow, deliberate, relishing every syllable.

“Or the night before. Or the night before that.”

My stomach flipped. My thighs clenched.

And I hated him for it.

I turned away sharply, my breath coming too fast, too shallow, everything spiraling too quickly.

I had to get out.

I had to leave.

The bond clawed at my insides, fighting against the instinct to put space between us, but I ignored it, storming toward the door with my hands trembling.

“Ellie.”

I ignored him.

“Ellie.”

I reached for the door handle.

“You won’t make it ten feet.”

I froze.

His voice was soft, knowing, filled with something I couldn’t place. A shiver crawled up my spine, every hair on my body standing on end. Slowly, I turned, my pulse hammering as I met his gaze.

He was watching me like he knew.

Like he had already won.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, stepping forward, slow and careful. “The bond. How it owns you.”

His scent thickened. My breath hitched.

“How I own you. Just like you own me.”

He moved closer, and I sucked in a sharp breath, the words hitting something deep, something primal, something that made heat pool low in my stomach despite the war raging in my mind.

My vision blurred. The weight of his presence pressed down on me.

I was losing.

I was losing so fucking badly.

And Mal?

He knew it.

Because I wasn’t running anymore.

I wasn’t even trying.

And I was fucked.