Page 21 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

When I finally pull up into the driveway, I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice my father and stepmother’s absence, both their cars being gone.

However, the sight of Lydia’s car elicits an involuntary groan and a roll of my eyes knowing she may just be worse than them together.

Steeling myself, I step out of the car and head toward the front door.

“About time you showed up,” Lydia snipes as soon as I step inside, her voice dripping with disdain. “Are those new clothes? What brand is that?” she asks, pulling to see the tag. I shove her away.

She eyes me suspiciously. “Morning, Lydia, nice to see you, too,” I mutter, and she folds her arms across her chest. I drop my keys on the counter ignoring her.

“Where were you all night?”

“None of your business,” I retort, trying to hide my unease as I shrug off my jacket. Her gaze lingers on me, her lips pursed in disapproval.

“Really?” she presses, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing. “You were seen talking with Alpha Zayn last night at the club. You wouldn’t have been with the oh-so-dark and mysterious Alpha, would you? You know Deacon wouldn’t approve.”

“Lydia, don’t start,” I warn, feeling my cheeks heat as I do my best to keep them calm.

Though thinking of Zayn makes me all hot and flustered, and I know it’s the sire bond.

I still can’t believe he sired my wolf. Well, I’m pretty sure he did; I wasn’t this overwhelmed by him when I first met him.

“Deacon and I are adults; we don’t need your input on our relationship. ”

“Relationship?” She smirks, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Is that what you’re calling it now? You don’t deserve Deacon, not with how you were throwing yourself at that Alpha last night.”

“I was not throwing myself at him, and since when are you the expert on relationships? What’s your longest relationship? A week?”She glares at me.

“Can you just go away, Lydia? I really don’t have time for your games today.” My patience is wearing thin. She doesn’t move; instead, she takes another step closer.

Close enough now, I can truly take in her appearance, my senses are immediately assaulted by the pungent scent of Lydia’s anxiety.

Her eyes are wide with worry, bloodshot from crying, and her hands wring together nervously.

She looks a mess, but there’s something undeniably satisfying about her vulnerability.

“Lydia,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I take in her disheveled appearance. “What’s going on?”

Lydia sighs heavily and rubs her eyes. “Your father won’t listen, nor does he care, I…” She pauses and sucks in a breath.

“Have you seen Deacon? He didn’t show up for patrol this morning, and his Alpha said he tried to mindlink him and found his tether broken,” she stammers, her voice quivering with concern.

“His pack tether?” I ask, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine at the thought. There are only two ways to sever a pack link; go rogue, either by choice or by force, or death. My heart races at the possibility Deacon might be in danger.

“He’s probably wrong, Deacon is probably passed out drunk somewhere, and it numbed his link to his Alpha,” I tell her. Something nags at me, and I pull my phone out of my pocket. Usually, Deacon visits me every day, it’s rare that I don’t see or hear from him.

I try calling Deacon’s number, it goes straight to voicemail.

A sense of unease tightens in my stomach.

Lydia’s worry seems to deepen, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“This isn’t like him, he always reports in,” she murmurs.

“And why would his Alpha say it’s broken?

He has no reason to go rogue, or what if he had an accident on his way home, or what…

?” Lydia is rambling, and I’ve never seen her this worried about anyone before.

I try to calm her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, calm down, he’s probably fine,” I say, trying to catch her gaze. “We’ll find him, okay? We need to stay calm and think rationally.”

“Rationally?” she scoffs, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. “How can I be rational when Deacon could be…could be…” She chokes on her words, unable to finish the sentence.

“Why are you so worried about Deacon?” I ask, suspicion creeping into my voice.

“He’s my boyfriend, not yours.”

Lydia shifts uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “We should all be concerned, shouldn’t we?” she deflects. She’s always had a thing for Deacon.

“We’ll check his house, he is probably hungover, or maybe he has passed out,” I suggest, more to ease her worry than to appease my own growing concern.

“Have you tried calling any of his friends?” I ask.

“Of course I have!” she snaps, her frustration evident. “They haven’t heard from him, either.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, placating her. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Maybe he went somewhere else after leaving the club,” I suggest, mixed emotions swirling within me. Worry about Deacon’s well-being churns with the lingering memory of his betrayal, and him ditching me in such a vulnerable state last night.

“Or maybe he didn’t make it home,” Lydia suggests, her voice low and desperate, as if she’s afraid to speak the words aloud.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I chide gently. “We need more information before we can form any theories.”

“Right,” she agrees, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“Let’s check his place,” I suggest. However, the uncertainty is eating away at me.

“Fine, let’s go,” Lydia nods frantically and pushes me toward the door.

As we head outside to my car, I wonder what’s gotten into her. I know she’s always had a thing for Deacon, yet her sudden surge of concern seems… intense.

“Where are my father and Linda?” I ask as we make our way to the car. She looks at me briefly before answering, “He went to speak with Alpha Dane, they’re discussing some pack business.”

“Pack business? What kind of pack business?” I press, feeling uneasy. Something tells me there’s more to it than that.

“Something about alliances, who cares, Deacon is missing,” she snaps, ripping my car door open. I pause in the driveway with a shudder. Alliances with Alpha Dane... My father wouldn’t agree to a marriage alliance without my consent, would he?

Shaking the thought from my head, I open the car door. “Cleo, hurry up. Who cares where they are! It’s nothing for you to worry about,” she dismisses with a wave.

“Let’s just focus on finding Deacon right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh, knowing it’s pointless arguing with her. We drive in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can feel the tension between us, thick and palpable, like a fog that refuses to lift.

As we drive, my mind races with possibilities, my fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel, and I sneak glances at Lydia.

She’s always been so composed, so calculating in her moves.

Now? She is a storm of emotions, barely contained beneath the surface.

I’d known for years she had feelings for Deacon, it still stings to see her so invested in his well-being.

“Did Deacon say anything to you about where he was going last night?” I inquire, hoping for a lead to Deacon’s whereabouts.

She turns in her seat to look at me.

“Why don’t you know where he is, Cleo? Weren’t you with him last night?”

I’m taken aback by her abrupt shift from worry to anger. “No, Lydia, I wasn’t with Deacon. Deacon ditched me! What’s going on with you?”

“Ditched you? I saw him leave with you!” she snarls, and confusion washes over me. What does she even mean by that? She’s delusional.

Her face contorts in anger. “Then where were you, I saw him leave with you? And why can’t we find him?”

“I’m not arguing over Deacon with you, it’s none of your business where I was,” I growl at her and Lydia mutters something under her breath.

As her accusations hang in the air, I start to piece things together. Lydia’s overreaction, her intense worry—it’s more personal than it should be. She’s hiding something. I can’t dwell on that now. Deacon is missing, and that’s what matters.

Pulling onto Deacon’s street, Lydia’s agitation seems to grow with each passing second.

Lydia’s clenched jaw and furrowed brow, her tapping fingers and restless movements, all contribute to the image of a person on the brink of panic.

Her eyes scan the familiar street, searching for any sign of Deacon.

We stop out the front of his house, but his car is not there, which makes worry gnaw at me further. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to remain calm.

We step out of the car and approach the front door, my heart pounding in my chest. Lydia reaches out to ring the doorbell, her hand trembling slightly.

I can see the fear in her eyes, the desperation to find any trace of him.

The seconds stretch into eternity as we wait for someone to answer the door. There’s no response.

We exchange a nervous glance before Lydia takes a step back, peering in through the windows. The curtains are drawn shut, so we are unable to see anything beyond them.

We are about to leave when I remember the spare key he always kept outside.

“The spare key,” I blurt out. “Deacon always keeps a spare key under the doormat.”

Without wasting another moment, I rush over and lift the doormat, revealing the small silver key hidden beneath, letting out a breath of relief. I glance at Lydia, who waves her hands at me before shoving me out of the way. She snatches the key and jams it in the lock.

The door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit hallway, and all the lights are off.

The house is silent, and a chill runs through me as we step cautiously inside. It’s as if time has stopped, the air heavy with anticipation. We make our way through the familiar rooms, searching for any clue that might lead us to Deacon.