Page 72 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

· Cleo ·

I scrunch my brows together at his words, and I watch him carefully, trying to figure out what he knows.

I sit on the edge of the sink basin, Zayn starts to fill the large tub with warm water.

My mind is racing, trying to process what he just said as he tips oils and soaps in the tub.

How does he know about my father’s dealings with Alpha Dane and Samuel? And why does he think it will help?

“I-I don’t understand,” I stammer out, my voice shaking slightly. Zayn turns off the tap and looks at me, his expression serious. “So you know of the money?” I ask hesitantly, and he tenses. He glances over his shoulder at me quickly before shutting the water off.

I bite my lip nervously, unsure of what to say. Zayn’s piercing silver eyes are locked on mine, and I can feel his confusion through the bond, making me wonder how much stronger the bond will feel once and if I can mark him.

“Wait, so you know about the council money?” he asks, and I nod slowly. He turns to fully face me, his expression guarded.

“What else did your father tell you?” he asks, and I know he’s probing for information. I try to come up with a response that won’t reveal too much while also satisfying his question.

“He didn’t tell me much,” I say cautiously. “Just that our pack needed to maintain alliances with powerful Alphas.”

Zayn narrows his eyes at my response, clearly not satisfied with my answer.

“That if it got out, he could go to prison, that we’d lose the pack,” I shrug.

“That’s what Alpha Dane has over him,” I admit, wondering if Zayn will use that information against my father.

“Alpha Dane covered for him, he put the money back, he paid my father’s debt to cover for him, and dad put the pack up for collateral. ”

Zayn shakes his head and offers me his hand. “That bastard, he should be named Alpha Stories, he never lets the truth get in the way of a good conversation,” Zayn laughs, though there is no humor in it. I take his hand, and he helps me into the huge tub before climbing in behind me.

“That can’t be what Dane has over him unless he is threatening to expose him to the public,” Zayn states, pulling me back against his chest. He reaches for the loofah and soap and begins gently scrubbing my back, his touch careful and soothing.

“What do you mean?” I ask. I relax into Zayn’s touch and let myself enjoy the warm water and his gentle caresses.

“Because I paid the debt,” Zayn states.

“What, why?” I ask, sitting forward and twisting to look at him. He tugs me back down against him.

“Your father had been stealing from the council for years. My mother was his secretary; she helped him cover it up for years, wanting to protect your mother and Vance,” he tells me.

“I don’t understand,” I admit, and he seems reluctant to tell me.

“Your father took the money and threatened to frame Vance for it. When my mother died, he had no one to cover up for him. That’s when my father noticed the books, the human governments audited the city council, and he realized for years money was going missing, and that my mother was covering it up.

When she passed, your father tried to frame Vance for taking it. ”

“It’s why I killed my father. I thought it was because he was accused of stealing council money, given that Vance worked at the council and had clearance to access it, having taken over from my mother as one of your father’s secretaries, who was the treasurer.

It also explains why my father declared Vance would never be Alpha.

He said he couldn’t be trusted with the pack finances.

But then they had a falling out right before my father tried to kill Vance,” Zayn explains.

“Why would your father even believe that about his own son in the first place?”

“Because Vance spent most of his teenage years in and out of rehab. He was battling drug addiction, so it was easy to make it look like him, and that my mother was covering up for him.”

“So Vance was supposed to be Alpha?”

“Vance is a year older than me, but that doesn’t make you automatically Alpha.

If I had challenged Vance for the spot, I would have won.

He knows it, and I know it. Vance had no interest in the position anyway.

However, an Alpha can elect someone as Alpha so it doesn’t necessarily go to the firstborn, though in most instances it is passed down. ”

“Then why not take over after your father died?”

“Vance didn’t want to be Alpha for one, however that isn’t the only reason the pack would not accept him, and they would never accept a recovering addict as Alpha,” Zayn explains.

I wait for him to continue, yet he doesn’t; instead, he starts washing me. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I’d rather wait because Vance doesn’t even know,” Zayn tells me. I glance at him over my shoulder.

“What do you mean?” I hold my breath, trying to grasp the severity of the situation. Zayn’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenches, and his fingers tensed against my skin, betraying the pain he is trying to hide. He takes a deep breath, his resolve strengthening.

“Even the dead have secrets. Those secrets are their ghosts,” Zayn murmurs.

“I loved my father; he was strict, but I loved him, and he loved us. After he lost my mother, he changed as one does when they lose their bond. The situation with Vance pushed him over the edge,” Zayn whispers.

“And I love my brother more,” Zayn murmurs.

“So my father framed Vance, and your father tried to kill him, so you killed your father?”

“That’s most of it,” he answers vaguely.

“Zayn, please, I know you’re hiding something,” I tell him. “I can feel it,” I admit, and he chuckles.

“Of course, you can. Just let me speak with Vance first,” he kisses my shoulder. “Please, it’s not my story to tell, and not a story he is even familiar with. He should know first,” he tells me. I nod reluctantly.

“So, what happens next?” I ask nervously.

“Your father comes clean, or I will have to drag all this out into the open. Either way, once it’s out, Alpha Dane will have nothing else to use against him.

But first, I need to figure out one other thing first. That’s if your father is hiding something else and has put your pack up for collateral; I need to be able to prove it first.” he tells me and my brow furrows as I try to think of any other reason besides what Zayn has said and what my father has confessed, I am also at a loss of any other reasoning.

“Prove what first?”

“That your mother never signed the pack over to him.”

“Your father witnessed it. You said so yourself.” He nods, his hands featherlight against my skin as he rubs my arms.

“Yes, and you said that wasn’t your mother’s signature,” Zayn tells me and he is correct. It didn’t look like her writing, but then again, what I remember of her has been dulled by time, so I could be wrong. I’m sure my father would have her signature on something at home.

“You think we are missing a piece of this fucked puzzle?”

“I think we are missing half the pieces,” he states.

“My father may have the original document. It seems that would be something he would have to keep, right?” I ask and Zayn nods. “I could try to find it. But…Zayn, I can’t go back, my father will force me to marry.”

He growls, cutting off my words. “You’re not going home, Cleo.”His arms tighten around me, his fingers digging into my skin.

“But my pack, I don’t have a choice.”

“Your pack will be fine, I promise,” he whispers, and I chew my lip hoping he’s right. I know I can’t go through with marrying Boyd, not only for the bond, but I can’t force Zayn to endure that either, that would be cruel. Yet the consequences if I don’t still worry me.

“I can’t just abandon them, Zayn.” The weight of responsibility is closing in on me.

“And you won’t have to,” he reassures me, his strong hands coming up to cradle my face. His eyes bore into mine. “I will do everything in my power to protect them, Cleo. They’re your pack, which means they’re mine, too.”

I don’t say anything, just lean into his touch and let his warmth soothe my nerves.

I know in my heart Zayn will do everything he can to protect my pack.

That thought alone gives me a sense of peace when there’s still so much uncertainty looming over us.

We remain in the bath until the water becomes too cold.

Zayn helps me out of the tub, his hand securely gripping mine as he leads us back into our room.

Once we are both dry, he pulls me against him, dragging me back to bed.

We don’t bother putting clothes back on and I let my head rest on his chest when we climb into bed, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

I feel safe here, in the circle of his arms, yet that just makes everything outside that circle seem more terrifying.

Eventually, sleep claims me, wrapping its comforting arms around my weary mind. Even in sleep, there is no escape from my worries, as they transform into nightmares that torment my dreams. Dreams of Zayn leaving me and being forced to marry Boyd, of my pack being slaughtered by Alpha Dane.

I’m jerked awake by Zayn’s arms tightening around me. I can feel his chest rumbling against my back as he purrs lowly. It takes me a moment to realize it’s my own muffled whimpers that have woken him.

“Ssh,” he whispers, pulling me closer to him. “I’ve got you, Cleo.”

Opening my eyes, I blink away the remnants of the dream and wriggle closer into Zayn’s warmth. His hands roam over my skin soothingly. “Just a nightmare,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’re safe.”

However the fear lingers, wrapping around my heart like a cold vice. It takes a long time for it to fade enough for me to fall back asleep.

The next morning, I wake to Zayn moving around the room.

His movements are graceful, predatory—every action is thoughtful and calculated as he gets ready.

He returns from the closet with a pair of jeans and track pants.

He hands me a pair of his track pants and I slip them on before he pulls one of his sweaters over my head.

I sniff it, loving the way it engulfs me in his scent.

He finishes getting dressed. “I’ll grab your clothes from your house today. ” he tells me.

As he finishes getting ready, I study him. Alpha Zayn is the kind of man my mother used to tell stories about—fierce, protective, loyal to his pack. And now, he is just as fiercely devoted to me, something I still can’t wrap my head around fully.

“Done,” he announces abruptly, pulling on the black sweater over his toned torso.

The fabric stretches across his muscles, it does nothing to hide the bulk of strength beneath.

His eyes remain locked with mine and there’s an intensity there that sends a shiver down my spine.

He steps closer, reducing the space between us until our bodies almost touch as he stands between my legs staring down at me where I sit on the edge of the bed.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is gentle; a contrast to the strength that lies within him.

“I’ll take care of everything okay?” he says, and I nod in response as I meet his gaze. Before I can process the moment further, Zayn leans toward me, pressing a soft kiss against my forehead.

“Stay here while I speak with Vance.”

“I want to come with you.” I protest

He shakes his head. “It’s better if I go alone, Cleo, I’ll be going to see your father afterward,” he tells me, leaving no room for argument. “I need you to trust I will handle this and not do anything stupid or try to leave the house while I am gone.”

I hold his gaze for a moment before nodding. “Alright, I won’t leave… but.”

“But what?”

I chew my lip. “Please don’t attack my father or hurt him.”

He arches a brow at me. “I am only going there to speak to him and get your things, if he tries to attack me, Cleo, I won’t stand there and just let him.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you not to provoke him, please, he’ll already be angry I never returned home.”

He sighs heavily. “I will try not to start a fight with your father,” he tells me. With a final squeeze of my hand, Zayn leaves the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As I wait for Zayn to return, my mind races with unspoken fears and unanswered questions. Like how my father will react when he shows up there, what this secret is he’s keeping. And most importantly, how will we protect our packs?

I am snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of my phone ringing.

I blink, recognizing the ringtone to be my father’s.

Grabbing it off the bedside table, it is my father, like I thought, when the mindlink opens.

“Answer your phone, I am with your father. He wants to ensure I am not holding you hostage.” Zayn growls through the mindlink. Shit! I quickly answer the phone.

“Hey, Dad,” I answer, cringing at how overly cheery I sound.

“Where are you? Why is Zayn saying you’re at his place? What about Boyd!” he demands, not even bothering to say hello, and I hear Zayn’s thunderous growl in the background.