Page 28 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

· Zayn ·

Waking up to the first rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, I turn to find Cleo still asleep beside me. Her face is soft and relaxed, her features smooth and free of any tension. Her long lashes fan gently against her cheeks, framing her closed eyes.

Her lips are slightly parted, her eyelids fluttering gently in her slumber, and I want so desperately to kiss her.

I feel a twinge of regret for how things escalated last night, knowing how my rejection upset her.

It’s not that I didn’t want her. Quite the opposite.

I want all of her. Not the semi-drunk version of her trying to escape an arranged marriage.

I want her when she feels comfortable and safe with me.

I slip out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake her, and head downstairs to prepare breakfast. The silence of the house is heavy as I make my way to the kitchen, Cleo occupying my mind.

As I start preparing some eggs and toast, I remember the way she looked last night when I rejected her advances. Her eyes filled with hurt and disappointment, and I hate that I caused her pain.

I know Cleo will be embarrassed about last night, and I rack my brain for ways to reassure her, to ease the awkwardness between us. However, before I can come up with a plan, she walks into the kitchen, still wearing my shirt from last night.

Her hair is tousled from sleep, giving her an adorable bedhead look. She stares at me tentatively, unsure of how to act around me after what happened.

“Good morning,” she says softly, avoiding eye contact.

“Morning, I hope you slept well.”

“I did. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course,” I say sincerely. “You’re always welcome here.”

We stand in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before I break the tension. “Coffee?”

She nods, avoiding my gaze, her movements stiff and cautious. I hand her a cup of coffee, trying to gauge her mood.

“So, what do you want to do today?” I ask, attempting to sound casual.

She takes a sip of her coffee, still not meeting my eyes. “Is your offer to help put up missing signs for Deacon still on the table?” she asks, her voice almost a whisper.

I nod, hiding my surprise at her request. “Of course. Have you got a picture of him?”

She nods. I cringe on the inside, especially after last night. Searching for her prick of a boyfriend, who is currently a popsicle in my freezer is the last thing I want to do, yet I will if it means spending the day with her.

“Have you got a printer? I’m sure I can find a template online for a missing poster.

” I give her a tight smile and point her in the direction of my office while I finish making breakfast. She wanders off, and I take a deep breath.

Why does she want to find Deacon? Is she hoping to reconcile with him? Or is it simply closure she seeks?

Regardless, I can’t deny her request.

We work in silence, me in the kitchen and her in my office.

I can hear the printer whirring as it spits out the missing posters, and I sing out to her to let her know breakfast is done.

I want to discuss last night, to clear the air, however she’s clearly not ready.

When she’s done, she comes out and sits with me at the breakfast nook in the kitchen.

For a few moments, we eat in silence. Every time I open my mouth to broach the subject, she changes the topic before I can ask.

So when she gets up to put her plate in the dishwasher, I follow and cage her in, giving her no escape.

She stops, staring up at me questionably.

Seeing Cleo in my shirt from last night, the fabric caressing her curves with each delicate movement she makes, ignites a flame of desire inside me.

Her long legs are on full display, and I want nothing more than to peel the thing off her.

Her hair is in messy waves, making her look alluringly innocent yet sinfully tantalizing.

She can claim it’s the sire bond all she likes, still she can’t deny how attracted she is to me.

“Cleo,” I start, unable to hold back any longer. “About last night…”

She cuts me off, her voice firm. “I don’t want to talk about it, Zayn. I need to find Deacon.”

Her avoidance stings, but it’s her desperation to find Deacon that truly bothers me. “Why are you so desperate to find him, Cleo? After he abandoned you?”

She finally looks at me, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and fear. “Because without Deacon, I’m screwed. I’ll be forced to marry Boyd. I need him to mark me.”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The idea of her with Deacon, of him marking her, ignites a fire of anger within me.

A flash of anger consumes me. The thought of him marking her skin with his touch, claiming her as his.

It’s enough to shatter my composure. The deep-throated growl that escapes me startles Cleo; she stares at me with wide eyes, taken aback by the brute possessiveness in my voice.

“No.” My voice low, laced with fury. “I won’t allow it.”

Cleo stares at me, taken aback by my intensity. “Zayn, you don’t understand. I don’t have a choice. Besides, why do you even care?”

I take a step closer, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “There’s always a choice, Cleo. And I’ll be damned if I let that bastard mark you.” My fists clenched at the thought of another man touching her—claiming her.

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, I think she’s going to argue. Except she looks away, her shoulders slumping. I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You’re not his to mark,” I growl low.

“I’m not Boyd’s either, yet that won’t stop him, at least this way I get some say in it, I rather Deacon than Boyd,” she whispers. “At least I know him,” she adds, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I need to find a way to help her, to protect her from this arranged marriage and from Deacon. But first, I need to break through the walls she’s put up, to get her to open up to me.

“Let’s go put up these posters,” I say, offering her a small smile. “And we’ll figure out the rest together. Just don’t make any choices that are forced, Cleo, you have time.”

Cleo laughs softly. “Time? What time? The moment I shift, my father will force my hand or force me to stand down! If I don’t find Deacon, I will be forced to marry Boyd, nothing I do will stop that.”

“Then I’ll mark you,” I blurt before I can stop myself. She blinks..

“That’s not funny, especially after last night. Especially with you having sired my wolf. Don’t play games with me, Zayn,” she snarls, shoving past me, only I grab her arm, swinging her back to me and pressing her against the counter.

“I’m not playing games.” I growl, unable to keep the anger from my voice.

“You don’t fuck with unshifted she-wolves, you said it yourself,” she jabs my chest with her finger, and I capture her hand.“Don’t fucking toy with me just because you sired my wolf. Don’t play with my damn emotions, Zayn! I’m jailbait, you said it yourself.”

“And yet, I would gladly rot in a prison cell for you until you get your wolf.” Cleo bites her lip, trying to avoid my gaze. She thinks I’m playing around, I’m not. How does she not see that?

I force her gaze back to mine, pressing closer, so our bodies are flush against each other, her soft curves pressing against the bulk of my muscle.

“Do you not hear your own words, Cleo? You said it yourself, I don’t fuck with unshifted she-wolves, yet I can’t seem to stay away from you.

I’m already breaking all my own rules. What’s one more? ” I whisper.