Page 56 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

· Zayn ·

I stare at the phone. “Cleo?” I say while unclipping my seatbelt.

Vance looks at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, the phone cut out; I think she dropped her phone. I better check she isn’t burning down the house.” I laugh, opening my door. Vance drives off as I fiddle with the keys, unlocking the place and stepping inside.

Silence greets me like an unwelcome omen as I step into the foyer, my pulse quickening with a strange foreboding. “Cleo?” I call out, my voice echoing off the walls, unanswered.“Your phone must have cut out.”

I glance around as I step into the vast mansion’s foyer, its empty halls echoing with my footsteps. Worry gnaws at me as I call out Cleo’s name, but there is no response.

The silence is suffocating, amplifying my concern for her safety.

I clutch the phone tighter, still blank like the phone is connected; it’s just dropped service. “Cleo?” I call out. My heart hammers as I press the end-call button. Something’s wrong.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, tossing my phone on the nearest table.

I make my way through the silence, every nerve in my body on high alert.

It’s too quiet— the kind of quiet that has my wolf on edge.

I check the kitchen to find she isn’t there, before making my way back into the hall.

I take a deep breath and scan the living room— no sign of her. I creep into the hallway.

“Cleo?” I call out, wondering if she is upstairs or playing a prank.

My eyes dart across the room, and they settle on the basement door, slightly ajar.

I stop in my tracks, my gaze going to the open door.

I take a deep breath and slowly creep toward it.

My stomach knots. I never leave that door open.

Panic courses through me—I know before I even move that she is in the basement.

With heavy steps, I rush toward the doorway, taking the stairs two at a time down into the dimly lit basement.

The basement lights flicker, casting eerie shadows against the cold concrete walls.

The air is heavy and musty, carrying a sense of foreboding.

As I descend the stairs, the silence becomes even more palpable, intensifying the feeling of dread that hangs in the air.

The sight that meets my eyes steals the air from my lungs.

There’s Cleo, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, her blonde hair cascading over her face like a curtain hiding her pain. She’s staring at something—or someone—in front of her. My fists clench as I follow her gaze to the closed freezer.

Cleo, usually vibrant and full of life, now appears fragile and broken, her vulnerability emitting an aura of despair.

Panic engulfs me as I realize the gravity of the situation, my mind racing with dark possibilities.

As my eyes meet Cleo’s, the realization dawns on me that she has already looked inside the freezer, and that she knows what I did.

“Cleo?” My voice cracks, and I’m careful to keep my distance, remembering how much she hates being cornered when upset. Her green eyes, usually so vibrant, are dull with betrayal and hurt, and it claws at me. I step closer, and she steps back, frightened of me.

“Don’t come closer,” she snarls, her eyes narrowing as she glares at me.

“I would never hurt you, Cleo,” I tell her, trying to remain calm when all I want to do is grab her.

“You think killing Deacon didn’t hurt me?” she scoffs despite her heartbreak.

“You looked in the freezer…” It isn’t a question, simply an acknowledgment of what she found in it.

“Stay back!” she hisses, her voice laced with betrayal as I reach for her. “Don’t touch me, Zayn!” The command slices through me, a direct hit to my heart. I respect it because that’s what you do when you love someone, you give them space, even when every instinct tells you to pull them close.

“Okay, okay,” I whisper, raising my hands in surrender, my skin itching with the need to shift, to let Zarek take over and handle this mess.

“I can explain,” I try to tell her, and she glances at the freezer.

“You lied.”

I shake my head. And something changes in her demeanor, her face twisting with fury.

“It’s not like that, Cleo. You know I would do nothing to hurt you,” I tell her, trying to get closer when her eyes dart around the basement in panic, looking for an escape route. I can see she also knows the only one means having to pass me.

“He’s been here all this time?” she asks, her voice breaking.

“Come upstairs, I’ll explain,” I try to grab her, and she pushes away my hands.

“Get away from me!” Her voice is sharp, like shattered glass, and it stops me cold.

I reach out, trying to brush her arm with the tips of my fingers to offer some semblance of comfort. She recoils as if my touch burns her skin. “Don’t touch me!” Cleo screams, her eyes wild with hurt.

She makes a break for the stairs, but I can’t let her go, not like this. My hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her back, and her reaction is immediate and violent. She swings at me, her fist connecting with my jaw as I grab her, only for her nails to rake across my cheek, and I taste blood.

“Stop, Cleo! I’m not your enemy,” I try to reason.

“Let me go!” She kicks out, connecting with a spot that sends agony exploding through me. I double over, releasing her instantly as her foot connects with my balls. I growl, and she darts up the stairs while I try to catch my breath.

“Vance,” I mindlink quickly, fighting through the pain. “Lock the place down. Now.” I tell him, rushing up the stairs after her.

I reach the top just in time to see Cleo darting toward the keys of my car that isn’t here. Her movements are swift, almost a blur, desperation fueling her.

“Dammit, Cleo, listen to me!” I shout, yet she’s already snatching the keys and spinning toward the exit.

“Stay away from me, Zayn!” Her voice breaks, a harrowing sound that tugs at my soul.

I chase after her, catching glimpses of her blonde hair as she maneuvers through the house with frantic energy.

“Please, Cleo,” I call out, my own voice strained with emotions too tangled to unravel. “We need to talk. Just… stop running.”

She doesn’t stop. She never does. As she reaches for the door, she rips it open wildly.

I grab her from behind, trying to haul her back into the house, when she bites me viciously, drawing blood before swinging her head back.

It connects with my nose, and I feel the crunch of her breaking it. I let her go and curse.

The night swallows her whole. Cleo’s fleeing form pauses, realizing my car isn’t here.

Her blonde hair whips in her face as she looks for another way before she takes off down the driveway.

Zarek presses against my skin, urging me to follow her.

My men, hearing the commotion, come piling out of their houses, seeing me chase after her, and moving to help.

Two of my men block her off, and another grabs her; she struggles and screams like she is being murdered, the sound tearing at me, hearing how terrified she is.

“Stand down!” I roar, my command slicing through the night air as my men move to intercept her. They hesitate, confusion etched on their faces, but they obey, stepping aside.

They let her go instantly. She spins and delivers two precise blows that send Jax and Kieran to the ground with thuds that resonate within me.

“Dammit, Cleo!” I shout after her, my voice rasping with desperation.

Ignoring the pulsing pain where she bit me, I give in to the surge within, allowing my bones to shift and my skin to stretch. The world blurs, senses heighten, and my wolf takes over with a growl that rumbles from deep within.

She’s almost at the gates when he reaches her, the scent of her fear filling his nostrils. I can’t let her leave, not like this, and Zarek reluctantly hands me back control as he shifts.

“Help! Someone!” Cleo’s scream pierces the night just as she grabs the gate.

“Shhh,” I whisper fiercely, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Cleo, stop. I won’t hurt you.”

Her teeth sink into my hand, the sharp pain igniting a flare of anger in Zarek.

I fight it, fight him, as she struggles in my hold.

She struggles even harder, her desperation and fear palpable.

I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm, and step toward her.

I cup her face in my hands, pleading with her to understand, but she refuses to listen, refuses to see past her grief.

“Stop this, Cleo! You’re safe with me.” My words are a growl, the human part of me clinging to control by a thread. “Don’t do this.”

She ignores me and I feel Zarek’s dominance surge forward, wanting to claim her to force her to stay.

The scent of her fear and her sharp teeth are sweet with defiance and snaps the fragile leash I have on Zarek.

He lunges forward, a snarl ripping from his throat as he pins Cleo against the cold metal of the gate.

The primal urge to claim her, to mark her as mine, thrums through every fiber of my being.

“Zayn!” Cleo’s voice is muffled against my hand, the terror in her green eyes slices through the haze of my wolf’s instincts. “Please, don’t!”

“Vance!” I scream mentally through our mindlink, the urgency breaking through even as Zarek’s growls fill the air. I’m losing myself to him; my wolf is too strong and too desperate to keep her here. If he marks her, there won’t be any escape from me.

I hear the rapid patter of paws before I see Vance’s dark form blur into sight. His wolf, massive and bristling, barrels into Zarek with a force that sends us both tumbling away from Cleo. Teeth flash, and pain sears along my flank where Vance’s fangs sink into Zarek’s hide.

Vance’s wolf snarls, and he positions himself between Cleo and me, a protective barrier Zarek rages against.

“Mine,” Zarek growls back, but Vance’s wolf doesn’t relent.

“Control it, Zayn!” Vance’s human voice echoes in my mind, insistent and fierce. “You need to control him, Zayn! ” he says, like he believes I am not trying hard enough. Zarek is in panic mode, thinking his mate is leaving him, rejecting him.

Cleo scrambles away, her breath coming in ragged sobs. She’s cornered, terrified, her gaze flickering between the two wolves locked in combat. I can feel her heart pounding, the rush of her blood calling to the very core of my wolf.

“Stand down, Zarek,” I command, fighting to infuse the order with all the authority I possess.

Vance’s wolf tears into Zarek, who attacks back while I struggle to control my wolf as Kieran and Jax move to help him.

I feel the change in Zarek, realizing if he attacks them while they aren’t shifted, he can seriously hurt them.

With a final, grudging retreat, Zarek backs down as I yell at him to stop fighting me. Vance doesn’t move, his body a living shield as he watches Zarek warily, ready to strike again if necessary.

“Give him control, Zarek. Before you lose her for good,” Vance urges through the link, his words a lashing reminder of what’s at stake.

Shifting back is agony—bones realigning, flesh knitting together as I force the shift back while Zarek tries to stop me. I stand naked and vulnerable in the chill night air, eyes fixed on Cleo’s trembling form.

“Cleo,” I rasp, my voice hoarse with the remnants of Zarek’s fury. “I would never hurt you.”

The words hang heavy, tainted by the shadow of what has just unfolded. The distance between us feels like a chasm, one forged by fear and mistrust, and I’m uncertain if it can ever be bridged again.

“You killed him,” she chokes.

“It was justified; even Alpha Greyson agreed,” I tell her, but she shakes her head.

“You lied and said you had no idea when Lydia and I asked. Fuck’s sake, you even helped me fucking look for him!” she screams. I move toward her, and she scrambles to her feet, ready to run. Vance’s wolf cuts her off, and Jax and Kieran flank her.

She panics, spinning toward me. “Please, you need to listen,” I tell her as I grab her. She thrashes, hitting and kicking me, but she stands no chance against me without her wolf; she knows it, and I know it. Still, she tries.

“You’re a liar, you’re a fucking liar. I hate you!”

“I have proof,” I tell her, crushing her to me, my chest pressing against her back as I lock her wrists together at her chest with my hands.

“You’d say anything, wouldn’t you? How can I believe a single thing you fucking say now?” she screams, struggling harder. My canines slip out, and my anger gets the better of me as I squeeze her with my teeth going to her neck.

“He was trying to rape my mate!” I snarl at her, and she freezes. “I wasn’t going to let him hurt you,” I murmur. She shakes her head, not wanting to believe me, not wanting to believe my words.

“I can prove it. I have video footage from the club,” I tell her, knowing Vance is smart enough to have kept a copy in case we ever needed it.

Her entire body trembles in my arms, and I can feel her shock.

Though I am not sure what is shocking her most, learning I am her mate or that her ex tried to rape her.

She stares at me in disbelief, her eyes wide.

I take her face in my hands and look into her eyes, my heart aching for her pain.

I know I need to tell her the truth; I have no choice now. I just hope she believes me.