Page 36 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

· Cleo ·

I wake to soft light filtering through the curtains. His steady breathing beside me is comforting, his chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. The warmth of his body seeps into mine.

For a brief, precious moment, the world outside this room doesn’t exist—no looming threats, no iron grip of my father’s expectations.

Just me and Zayn. I let myself sink into the illusion of serenity, nestled against him, the Alpha whose presence promises protection and stirs something deep and aching inside me.

Reality claws at the edges of my peace, reminding me I can’t stay hidden here. As much as I crave this escape, I know I have to leave. The weight of my responsibilities— and my father’s wrath if he finds out where I’ve been—pull me back.

I shift carefully, not wanting to wake him.

My gaze lingers on the sharp lines of his face, softened in sleep.

His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, and I trace the arc of his brow with my eyes, trying to commit it to memory.

His gray eyes, now hidden, twitch beneath long lashes.

I wonder what dreams haunt him when his brow furrows like that.

As much as I like Zayn, I barely know him. Right now, I’m every serial killer’s dream—trusting blindly. Yet with Zayn, it feels like home. I don’t know if it’s the sire bond or if I’m starting to fall for him. He’s nothing like the ruthless Alpha people make him out to be. He’s nothing like Deacon.

Deacon would’ve never stood up to my father. He never came to check on me unless I begged for it. I chased him. Not once did he chase me. Zayn, though… Zayn is ready to start a war. Over me.

With a quiet sigh, I slip from beneath the covers. My feet hit the cold floor as I sit on the edge of the bed, grounding myself in the uncomfortable truth—I’m going to be in deep trouble. The warmth of Zayn’s body still clings to me, and I hold onto it like armor.

I’ll need it.

“You’re up early,” Zayn murmurs, voice husky as his fingers curl around my wrist. He shifts beside me, gray eyes slowly opening, catching me in their hold. He pats the bed, tugging the covers back invitingly.

“Don’t make me drag you back. I wasn’t done cuddling you,” he teases, lips twitching with a sleepy smile.

“I need to get to school,” I say, already bracing for the day ahead.

His eyes flash black for a heartbeat. “You need to get your butt back in bed.” I raise an eyebrow at his playful tone.

“Ten minutes,” I bargain. “Then you need to run me back to my dorm.”

I move to lie back down, but he grabs me, yanking me under the blanket and trapping me there.

“Stay,” he whispers. “You don’t have to leave, Cleo.”

He brushes a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear with heartbreaking tenderness. Then his lips find mine, and I melt into the kiss, lost in the taste and feel of him. Zayn. Just Zayn.

However, the outside world creeps back in. The weight of what’s waiting out there presses against my chest.

“I can’t,” I whisper against his lips.

His brow furrows as he pulls back to study me. “Why not?” he asks. “You’re nineteen, Cleo. Technically an adult. You don’t have to answer to your father.”

“An adult in human years,” I correct him. “In werewolf society, I’m still under his protection until I shift.”

“You don’t need his protection. You have me.” His thumb brushes my cheek.

“The silence from him… it’s the calm before the storm. You know it.”

Zayn’s arm tightens around me, his aura flaring. It rushes out so suddenly it steals the breath from my lungs. I gasp. He startles, pulling it back instantly.

“Shit,” I mutter, shaking my head. I know he didn’t mean to lose control.

He sighs—a deep rumble of frustration—and sits up in one smooth motion. His arms close around me again, and I know the feelings I have aren’t one-sided.

“Let me worry about your father,” he growls softly. “I can handle him.”

His gray eyes lock with mine, burning with conviction. And as much as I want to believe him, to take comfort in that promise, I can’t. Because if I do, we risk everything.

Reluctantly, I pull away from his warmth, the cool air kissing my skin where his touch lingers.

“I have to go back to college, Zayn,” I say, sliding out of bed and wrapping myself in the thin barrier of a sheet. My heart races as I meet his silver gaze. “I won’t risk my pack.”

“What risk, Cleo?”

I purse my lips. “What if my father declares war?”

“Then he’s more stupid than he looks. I’d annihilate his pack—probably singlehandedly. Sorry, your pack is kind of small,” Zayn chuckles.

“Exactly. He would declare war. He was already willing to risk us by refusing your protection. If he does it again, my pack will follow him… and they’ll get hurt.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This is such a mess.

Zayn watches me silently, eyes tracking my every move like a predator. Instead of acting, he leans back against the headboard, his dark hair tousled, a raw edge in his expression like he’s fighting some internal war.

“I don’t like you being away from me,” he says, voice rough.

“You say that like I’m your only friend.”

“If I say you are, will you stay?”

I roll my eyes and start looking for my clothes.

As I dress, I can feel the weight of his gaze, heat building with every layer I pull on.

I pause, glancing over my shoulder—my resolve falters for a second.

“Zayn…” I start, needing him to drive me or I’ll miss my first class. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to go. “Please. I need to get to school.”

“Fine. Since I’m not allowed to kidnap you, I’ll drive you back—” I smile. Then he adds, “For now. Your father keeps getting under my skin. I may not give you back next time.”

“And you said you weren’t a serial killer. I’m supposed to trust you?”

“I never said anything about killing you. I just wouldn’t give you back. I’d keep you all to myself.” He laughs, grabbing jeans and a black shirt.

We head downstairs. He grabs his keys—and my hand—and leads me out to his car. The ride is quiet. Neither of us wants to disturb what little peace remains between us.

When the engine stops outside my dorm, the world feels distant, and gray compared to the intensity inside the car. Zayn pulls me into him, kissing me with a heat that ignites something fierce between us.

“I’ll call you,” he says, his voice strained with the effort of parting.

“You better,” I reply, the taste of him still on my tongue. I don’t want to leave.

He brushes a thumb across my cheek. “When will you start working for me?”

“You’ll still protect the borders even after everything with my father?”

“If it means seeing you, then yes.”

I press my forehead to his. “I’ll check my class schedule. I might drop one or two.” The words are tight in my throat. I know what I’m risking. But once I’m Alpha, I’ll be able to form treaties without my father’s permission. This will have to do—for now.

“I need to go,” I whisper, even though my whole body protests.

“Wait,” he says, catching my hand. “Call me after class. We’ll get dinner.”

“Zayn… we’ll get caught.”

“I’ll pick you up,” he grins, wicked and unbothered.

I laugh softly, shaking my head. Sneaking out last night was reckless. Doing it again tonight? Probably stupid.

I climb out of the car and slip into the dorm building. The halls are quiet— students still asleep or just waking up. No one sees me.

I reach my room. The key turns in the lock with a soft click, the moment the door opens, a cold aura hits me like a slap. The energy is sharp. Angry.

My eyes lock onto the bed.

There he is.

My father.

Sitting like a judge, carved in stone. His jaw clenched, eyes thunderous.

“Dad…” My voice is a breath, tight with dread.

“Quiet, Cleo.” His tone is sharp, final. Any protest I had withers on my tongue.

Two enforcers stand behind him—still as statues, their presence unmistakable. Dangerous.

They turn toward the window, pretending not to see what’s about to happen. I take an involuntary step back, the room feeling too small, too loud with silence.

“When Lydia told me you were seeing Zayn, I hoped she was wrong—especially after the shitstorm he caused at the council meeting, staking claim to you.”

His words slice through me. Cold. Unforgiving. The warmth I’d just left feels like a dream, already slipping through my fingers.

“Lydia…” I start, the name tastes like betrayal—sharp and sour on my tongue. Not that I expected anything else from that evil wench. Still, it stings. She did this out of spite over Deacon, which makes it worse. The thought of her smug, self-satisfied smile makes my insides twist with hatred.

“You’ve embarrassed me. After the drama he caused the other day, now this. You look like you’re defying me—choosing his side!”

I glance at the enforcers. They won’t meet my eyes, pretending they aren’t here for intimidation.

“Dad, please—” Desperation edges my voice, however the plea dies under the weight of his glare.

“Enough.” He stands, the motion sharp and final. “You will end this… thing with Alpha Zayn, or suffer the consequences. You’re already promised, and sneaking around with him makes me look like a weak Alpha who can’t control his own daughter.”

“Consequences?” The word escapes on a breath, choked.

“Your future. The pack’s stability. Your place in this family. You’ve jeopardized all of it.”

Each word hits like a stone on my chest, dragging my breath with it.

“Dad, you can’t mean—”

“No excuses. End it, Cleo.” His voice booms, and I flinch. His expression is cold, merciless. “Defy me again, and—”

He doesn’t finish. Just cuts me off with a wave of his hand, dismissing me more effectively than any shout. “Save your breath. I don’t want to hear it.”

“From now on, you’re under guard.” My eyes flick to the enforcers again. “Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

My heart pounds, loud in my ears. I try to find the words—something, anything— to soften his fury. But their silent presence strangles my voice.

“Seeing Zayn isn’t a crime,” I say finally, pushing the words past the fear.