Page 4 of The Alpha Under My Bed (The Chosen #1)

Four

ELEANOR

I sighed, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic groan and tossing my phone onto the cushion beside me.

“I think I’m cursed.”

Mal didn’t look up from where he was leaning against the counter, lazily wiping down a wrench with an old rag.

“Oh?”

“I’m serious,” I muttered, rubbing at my temples. “Every single alpha or pack I match with just… disappears .”

I grabbed my phone again, waving it in his direction. “Do you know how rare it is to get a compatibility score over 95%? And I had two . Two different ones. One was a pack, one was a single alpha, and both of them either ghosted me or sent me this weird, polite breakup text like we were already dating.”

Mal finally glanced over, arching a brow. “What’d they say?”

I scrolled to the last message, reading it aloud with a scowl. “‘Hey, Ellie. We just wanted to reach out and say we really appreciate getting to know you, but we actually found our omega. Wishing you the absolute best in your search!’“

Mal let out a low hum.

I scoffed. “The other one was almost the exact same thing—just poof . Gone. And they were the best matches I’ve had since I signed up.”

I slumped back against the couch, running my fingers through my hair. “I don’t get it. Maybe I am cursed.”

Mal didn’t answer right away. He set the wrench down, taking a slow sip of his beer before tilting his head slightly, studying me.

“Maybe the problem isn’t you,” he said, his voice easy.

I let out a sharp laugh. “Clearly, it is. I mean, what else could it be? ”

He leaned against the counter, resting his forearms against the surface. “Maybe they just weren’t good enough for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yeah? And what am I supposed to do when my suppressants stop working?”

He tilted his head, like he was considering something. “You think an alpha is the only one who can take care of you?”

My stomach did a weird little flip. I ignored it. “Well, yeah. That’s kind of how it works.”

His lips curled—slow, knowing. “Not every alpha is good enough for you, Ellie.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Apparently none of them are.”

“That’s their loss.”

His voice was easy, teasing—the same steady, laid-back tone I’d heard a thousand times before. But underneath it, beneath the warmth and familiarity, there was something else. A quiet edge, a weight I couldn’t quite name.

Something that made me pause.

Something that made that weird little flip in my stomach a lot harder to ignore.

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Mal just smiled, reaching for his beer. “I’m just saying.”

I exhaled, leaning my head against the back of the couch.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe my compatibility results didn’t mean shit. Maybe all this time, I’d been looking in the wrong places, searching for something that didn’t even exist.

Maybe…

I glanced at Mal from the corner of my eye.

Maybe I’d been looking past something that had been there all along.

I pushed the thought away before it could take root, forcing another laugh as I closed my eyes.

“I swear to God, Mal. If I do end up alone, you better take care of me.”

His response was almost too quiet to hear.

“Always.”

The next few days felt different .

Not because anything had changed—not really.

Mal was still Mal.

He still showed up at my place after work, still made himself at home, still cleaned up the messes I didn’t realize I’d left behind. He still made sure I ate, still stole my blankets when we watched movies, still reached for things on high shelves just to tease me—like I was helpless. He still gave me shit for drinking those ridiculous floral teas, still rolled his eyes when I forgot to lock my door, still carried my bags without asking, even though I told him I could do it myself.

Everything was the same.

But I wasn’t.

I felt it in the way my body responded when he got close—the slow, curling warmth low in my stomach when he leaned over me to grab something, the way my pulse jumped when his hand brushed the small of my back.

I felt it in the way my gaze lingered when he wasn’t looking—watching the way the light caught along his jaw, the curve of his lips when he smirked, the effortless way his hands moved when he worked on something.

I felt it in the way I wanted.

For so long, I’d told myself that being in love with Mal wasn’t practical. That it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t enough. That someday, I’d have to find someone else—an alpha, a pack, someone who could handle my heats when my suppressants inevitably started failing.

But maybe…

Maybe I’d been wrong.

Maybe I didn’t need an alpha. Maybe I didn’t need a scent match, or a pack, or some fucking algorithm deciding who was best for me.

Maybe I’d spent years searching for something that had been right in front of me all along.

Because Mal was safe . Mal was constant . Mal was the one person I had never doubted, never questioned, never had to wonder if he was going to leave.

And if my heats did come back full force?

I’d figure it out.

I had been handling them alone for years. I knew the rhythm of my body, could feel them coming—quarterly, like clockwork. I’d survived the worst of them, biting down on a pillow as the shakes and pain wracked through me, muscles clenching around a toy that wasn’t enough, but at least helped. At least dulled the sharpest edges.

And if I needed more?

There were options. Artificial knots. Gels. Toys that pulsed just right—enough to trick my body into believing I was okay, even if I wasn’t.

I had survived before.

I’d survive again.

Besides, I didn’t even remember my heats anymore. They came and went like a fever dream, fading before I could grasp anything beyond the dull ache in my limbs when I woke up.

That wasn’t uncommon for omegas. Some went into a haze, their minds shutting down to protect them from the worst of it. Some said they blacked out entirely.

I had always been relieved I was one of them.

That I didn’t have to remember the pain.

That I didn’t have to remember being alone.

But maybe I wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

Maybe Mal was enough .

I swallowed hard, tracing the rim of my mug with my fingertip, my pulse loud in my ears.

If I bonded him, that would be it.

No more waiting. No more searching. No more wondering if I would ever find someone who stayed .

Mal would .

Mal always had.

And maybe it wasn’t what I was supposed to do. Maybe it wasn’t what was expected .

But maybe I didn’t care anymore.

Maybe I just wanted him .