Page 37 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

He looms over me, his Alpha aura pulsing in the air between us. “It’s not about what’s lawful. It’s about what’s expected—of you, of us.”

His eyes, so much like mine, now glint with icy fury.

“Your actions put everything at risk.”

The room feels smaller. Tighter. Like the walls are pressing in. Outside, the early morning light creeps across the sky, yet inside, everything feels cold and closing.

“Do you hear yourself?” I snap. “All this because you made a deal with Alpha Dane. Because you refused Zayn’s protection! Why do I have to be the sacrifice for your ego? It’s wrong!”

He listens without flinching. “Right or wrong, you’ll do as you’re told.” He steps closer. His proximity makes it clear—this is not a discussion.

“You will marry Boyd. That’s final.”

“Dad, please—” I beg, however the look in his eyes shuts me down.

“Understand this,” he says, his voice low and cold. “You belong to the pack before yourself. Before whatever fleeting feelings you think you have. You are Alpha first. And Alphas don’t always get to do what they want.”

He pauses, then leans in slightly. “This is your last warning, Cleo. End whatever this is with Zayn. Marry Boyd. Step out of line again, and I will give the pack to Lydia.” The threat coils around my throat like a noose. Lydia. Of all people.

She’s always lurked in the background, waiting for a crack to widen. Now she’s ready to take everything—the pack, my title, even Zayn.

The fight drains from me. I nod, a hollow gesture, my mind already spiraling.

“Good.” He turns away. “Get ready for class. These two will be stationed at your door. You don’t leave their side.”

With that, he strides out. The enforcers follow. The door clicks shut behind them—final, like a cell door.

I collapse onto the bed. Zayn’s scent still clings to my clothes. The room feels colder, the air heavy with my father’s ultimatum.

If I don’t end things with Zayn, I lose everything. He’ll hand the pack over to her.

A chill spreads through me as the reality sinks in. Lydia wouldn’t lead. She’d consume—every bit of tradition, every ounce of loyalty we’ve fought for. And she’d enjoy it.

But how can I walk away from Zayn, when my heart already belongs to him?

I force myself up, get dressed quickly, grabbing my books, and bag. When I open the door, the sight of the two enforcers waiting makes me groan.

I lock the door behind me and stomp past them.

My boots echo off the cold tile, the sound a steady beat under the weight of their gaze. They don’t speak, however I can feel them behind me—watching, judging.

It’s not that I go looking for trouble.Trouble just has a way of finding me. Especially when its name is Lydia.

“Watch your step,” one enforcer mutters as a student darts in front of me, nearly knocking into my shoulder. He’s alert, eyes scanning the hall, his words barely register past the curses looping through my mind over my father’s latest punishment.

My gaze flicks through the crowd—faces blending together, whispers brushing past me like static. They see the enforcers, see me, and their curiosity is already twisting into gossip.

“About time.”

The voice slices through the noise, sharp and familiar. Lydia leans against Maya’s dorm door, arms crossed, smirk curled like a blade. She lives for this—power plays, public humiliation. Her favorite sport.

“Lydia,” I greet, flat and disinterested.

She pushes off the door and struts toward me, heels clicking like a countdown. Students part instinctively, creating a tense circle around us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping my voice level.

“You know perfectly well why I’m here.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Enlighten me.”

“I see your father finally realized his little princess isn’t safe roaming around alone. About time he put you in your place.”

The enforcers beside me tense, silent and alert. Lydia’s smirk deepens.

“I wouldn’t be under guard if you hadn’t been running your mouth,” I snap. “What have I ever done to you?”

She leans in, her perfume cloying. “You should’ve thought about that before choosing Zayn over Deacon.”

“I didn’t choose anyone,” I say, voice sharp. “And what I do is none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is,” she shoots back. “When it affects the pack, it’s everyone’s business.”

“Then maybe worry about your own mess. The only thing you’re good at is draining pack funds.”

We’re nose to nose now, the tension crackling. My pulse races. Lydia’s always known how to bait me—but today, she’s pushing harder.

“I’m trying to protect you from making a mistake with that mongrel,” she snarls. “God only knows what he did to Deacon, and you’re defending him?”

I grit my teeth. “Not this again. I don’t know where Deacon is. Wherever he is, he’s not looking for me—or you.” Her eyes flash with fury.

“Hey,” Maya cuts in, voice soft. “Let’s all take a breath—”

Lydia’s already pointing at me. “You were the last one seen with him. And now you’re covering for Zayn. He followed Deacon out that night.”

“Bullshit,” I snap. “We checked the tapes. If you’re so worried, go find him. I’m done with this drama.”

I turn to leave, when her voice stops me cold.

“How dare you! You call me dramatic? You started a pack war! You’re just like your whore mother—always stirring trouble!” The word hits me like a slap.

My vision goes red. Everything else fades—students, walls, even the enforcers. All I see is her. The smug look. The venom behind her words.

A snarl rips from my throat.

I lunge.

My hand tangles in her hair, yanking her forward until our faces are inches apart. Her eyes widen in panic, but I don’t care.

“You don’t get to talk about my mother,” I hiss, low and shaking.

“Let go of me!” Lydia screeches, trying to wriggle free.

The enforcers freeze, unsure what to do. Maya gasps behind me.

My other hand clenches into a fist.

Lydia’s scream barely registers as I slam her forward. Her face connects with the brick wall, the impact sickening.