Page 27 of The Alpha Under My Bed (The Chosen #1)
MALCOLM
The air was thick—humid with the weight of breath, heat, and power. Smoke curled through the room, mingling with the sharp bite of expensive colognes, the metallic tang of blood, and the unmistakable tension of every eye fixed on us.
A stage. A trial. A reckoning.
And I had already won.
Ellie knelt at my feet, draped in crimson silk, her body soft, pliant from the hours I’d spent wrecking her before we arrived. The fabric clung to her curves, accentuating the slight swell of her stomach—the unmistakable sign of my child growing inside her.
The imprint of my bite sat on her throat, deep and permanent, a brand that said what needed no words. A warning to anyone who dared look too closely. She wasn’t just mine—she had been claimed in full, bonded to me so tightly that no force on earth could ever break it.
And yet, they still wanted me.
The Chosen.
A secret society. The world’s most ruthless, elite figures. They had heard of me.
They had heard about the pack I tore apart, about how I buried my scent match, about how I rejected fate itself.
And now they wanted me to join them.
A figure stepped forward, draped in black and gold, his mask a snarling maw of a wolf. His presence was commanding, the kind of alpha others couldn’t help but obey.
The Leader.
He raised a gloved hand, and the room fell into silence.
“You have proven yourself through action, Malcolm Cross,” the Leader’s voice sliced through the air, smooth as a blade, each word weighted with authority. “Now, prove yourself in word. Speak the vows.”
I didn’t need to memorize them.
I had lived them.
I lifted my chin, my voice low, dark, unwavering.
“Fate is a lie.”
A ripple of approval washed through the crowd, the tension in the air thickening.
“We are stronger than instinct.”
Ellie shivered against me, the bond between us thrumming with her every tremor, her body still soft and sore from the way I had taken her earlier.
“We take what is ours.”
I met the Leader’s gaze, my smirk sharp enough to slice through the silence. Because I had taken what was mine. I had ripped apart anyone who dared to take her from me. I had shattered every expectation, every constraint they tried to bind me with.
And I would do it again.
“We choose who we claim.”
The air in the room shifted, a subtle tension that none of them could ignore.
Ellie tilted her head, exposing the deep, brutal mark I had left on her throat—the claim I had carved into her so deeply it would never fade.
My hand drifted over her stomach, the motion subtle yet possessive. A touch that said what my words didn’t need to.
Those around us inhaled, some with approval, others with envy, but none dared to look away.
The Leader exhaled, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “And when we claim?”
I leaned down, my lips ghosting over Ellie’s throbbing mark, letting my breath warm her skin, the pressure building as I reminded every single person here who she belonged to. Who I owned.
Then, without warning, I bit down.
Not to mark her again, but to reaffirm. To make sure every soul here knew who the fuck she was to me.
Ellie shuddered beneath me, a soft, wrecked noise slipping past her lips, her fingers digging into the fabric of my pants as her body responded to me instantly.
The room felt it.
The shift in power. The certainty. The irrevocable ownership.
They exhaled, their scents shifting, submitting to what they had just witnessed.
I licked the mark clean, sealing it once more, reminding her body that there would never be anyone else.
Then I lifted my head, met the Leader’s gaze, and spoke the final words.
“I take what is mine and leave nothing behind.”
The Leader tilted his head, studying me through the mask. His voice, now laced with a hint of amusement, rang out. “Rise.”
I stood.
And the room—the fucking world—shifted.
The crowd nodded, some in approval, others in understanding, but all were forced to acknowledge one thing.
I wasn’t an exception.
I wasn’t a mistake.
I was exactly what they had been waiting for.
The Leader studied me, his voice low, edged with something almost like respect. “And now, Malcolm Cross—reject fate.”
I looked down at Ellie—my mate, my omega, the mother of my pup.
I felt the mark on her throat still throbbing, still alive with the power of my claim.
I thought of the ashes of my old pack. Of the scent match I had buried. Of everything that had brought me to this point.
And I said the words like a promise.
“I reject fate. I am Chosen. We are Chosen.”
The crowd exhaled in unison. The Leader nodded.
And I smiled.
Because I hadn’t just passed the initiation.
I had become it.