Page 38 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

· Zayn ·

The roar of my engine breaks the morning silence as I pull into Alpha Greyson’s territory. The scent of pine and wet earth fills my lungs—familiar, grounding.

As I step out, boots crunching on gravel, Greyson’s laugh rolls down the steps of his packhouse. “Word is, you stirred up Dane and Joseph at that meeting.”

His tone is light, yet the tension crawling up my spine doesn’t ease. I’m not here to entertain.

“News travels fast,” I say, slamming my car door shut. The smell of rain lingers— storm brewing, inside and out.

Greyson smirks. “Joseph looked ready to rip someone’s throat out when he left.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I mutter, thinking about what happens when ambition clashes with power.

Greyson’s arms cross, eyes sharp beneath the easy posture. “So, what brings you here?”

I glance around—the packhouse looms behind him, nestled in dense trees like a fortress. “You need my help, don’t you?” he says before I can answer.

“I might,” I admit.

Greyson nods, his expression turning serious. “Whatever it is, you’ve got my support.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”

“I don’t need to. If it’s against Joseph and Samuel, count me in—especially after what they did to Clara.”

His voice turns steel, and I feel my wolf stir.

“You really believe Joseph had something to do with her death?”

Greyson’s eyes harden. “You doubt me?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Andrea believes it too. She wanted to cut ties with Samuel but didn’t want to leave Clara’s daughter unprotected.”

“Understandable,” Greyson says, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Cleo needs all the protection she can get. Especially now that Joseph’s trying to marry her off.”

A growl builds in my throat. Just the thought of Cleo being handed over ignites something primal in me.

“What do you mean?” I ask, already bracing.

“Rumor says Samuel came up with the idea. And Linda jumped at it.” Of course she did. My teeth grit.

“She’s always spinning her web,” I snap. “Because if Cleo marries into power, Lydia and Samuel get Shadowcrest.”

Greyson leans on my hood, voice low. “Exactly. I am curious… how’d you get pulled into this?”

I clench my jaw, heat simmering under my skin. “Be ready for war, old man,” I say. “Because if you’re right about Samuel, it’s me and you against the rest.”

Greyson laughs—a low, feral sound that promises blood. “Good thing I’m on the winning side. Tell me—what made you draw the line? You’ve always tried to keep peace.”

“Sometimes peace isn’t an option,” I answer. “Not when the people you care about are treated like pawns.”

Cleo’s face flashes through my mind—brave, fierce, vulnerable.

Greyson watches me carefully, then nods. “Ah. So it’s personal.”

“Isn’t it always?” I mutter. “When you’re protecting what’s yours, the rules change.”

I turn to leave, hand on the door, only to pause.

“Tell me something,” I say without looking back. “If you had a second chance with Clara…”

His jaw tightens. Nostrils flare.

The silence says more than words ever could.

His voice, when it comes, is like gravel dragged through old wounds. “I’d bring this city to its knees to protect her. And Cleo.”

“Well, there’s your answer, Greyson.”

Greyson laughs—deep and guttural, something ancient in it. Recognition. Bond.

“Indeed,” he says, eyes glinting with something that wasn’t there before. “Because the only woman worth going to war over… is your mate.”

The truth’s been etched into my bones since the moment I knew Cleo was mine.

“Exactly,” I reply, heat flooding my veins at the thought of her. The feeling borders on obsession. “And I’ll tear apart anyone who tries to claim her.”

“Love makes us do the unthinkable,” Greyson muses, voice dipped in memory and instinct. He knows—it’s never just about power or land. It’s the heart. Always the heart.

“Even before she’s fully mine,” I admit, voice rough. The idea of Cleo untouched by the bond, unaware of what burns between us, stirs something savage inside me.

“Ah, the sweet torture of waiting for the bond to snap,” Greyson says with a knowing smirk. “When it does, Zayn—you’ll know no bounds. Trust me.”

My jaw clenches. Just the thought of claiming her, marking her flesh, branding her soul—it’s maddening.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he adds. “She’s safer that way. For now.”

“I know.” I nod, grateful.

“I’ll be ready when the time comes.” His expression darkens. “What if Joseph marries her off before she gets her wolf?”

My fists clench involuntarily, jaw grinding. The image of Cleo bound to Boyd turns my blood to fire.

“She won’t marry Boyd. They can make whatever arrangements they want—it’ll be their funeral.”

I turn back toward my car, the beast inside me pacing restlessly.

“So, what’s your plan?” Greyson’s voice is low, hesitant.

“I don’t have one yet,” I admit, pulling the door open.

“Well, when you do, let me know.”

I nod once, ready to leave, when he stops me again.

“Almost forgot—I was meaning to ask. What about Deacon? Lydia’s been snooping. I haven’t seen the kid since before he went missing, but I thought I felt…” His voice trails off.

Fuck. I forgot Deacon was technically part of Greyson’s pack.

Greyson eyes me, piecing it together. “Did he deserve it?”

“He drugged Cleo with Lydia’s help. He was going to…” The words stick in my throat.

Greyson’s face hardens. “Good enough for me. As long as it wasn’t cold blood.”

“He deserved it,” I say, steady.

He swallows thickly, expression unreadable. “Does Cleo know?” I shake my head. “Does she remember?”

Again, I shake my head.

“I’ll take care of things on my end. I’ll release a statement saying he went rogue.”

Relief slips through me. It could’ve gone badly. Luckily, Greyson understands. He always has.

“Thanks, Greyson. I owe you.”

“When the time comes, you know where to find me.”

I climb into the car, engine rumbling beneath me, I leave Greyson behind.