Page 78 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

“Zayn!” His name escapes as a strangled cry.

I need to do something, but what? When I realize the men fighting ours aren’t rogues at all.

It’s Claymore pack, and that is verified when I see the sleek black car pull up in the park in the pack center, and Alpha Dane climbs out, glazing around at the carnage.

I stumble back from the window, knowing if he is here, it’s only for one reason.

The realization I am the target hits me like a physical blow, sending adrenaline surging through my veins.

Instantly, I open the mindlink, searching for Zayn’s link.

Zayn feeling me trying to open the link forces it open further.

“Where are you?” he demands, and my brows furrow. Does he already know? Of course, he does, his men must have alerted him. “Packhouse. Zayn, it is not a rogue attack. It’s Alpha Dane.” I tell him, ripping my pants up my legs.

“ Zayn, please, say something,” I plead into the mindlink that connects me to Zayn, praying for a response, for any sign that he’s here, that he’s coming.

“Right here, I’m on my way.”

“What should I do?” I ask him, besides the obvious and helping our pack.

My fingers claw at the window frame as I watch the pack members fleeing toward the bunkers designed for such attacks, while our men try to hold them off.

“Alpha Dane won’t risk hurting our pack; it will be bad for the media. You need to run, Cleo,” Zayn says. “ Before it’s too late.”

“What?” I blurt stupidly. “But your people,” I snap at him.

“Can handle themselves. I can hear my men. They aren’t hurt. Alpha Dane is searching for something, not using lethal force; he has sedatives. They aren’t here to kill, Cleo. They’re after you. I need you to fucking run.”

And deep down, I know he’s right. I have to move now. With one last look at the carnage below, I tear myself away from the window, my mind racing with plans of escape. Where the fuck do I go?

A thunderous crash inside jolts me into action. They’re inside. Alpha Dane’s warriors, no doubt.

“ Zayn, where are you?” My mind reaches out again, straining against the distance.

“ Stay safe, Cleo. I’m coming.”

I sidestep just as the door bursts open, splinters flying like wooden rain. A hulking figure stands silhouetted against the light, a warrior of the Claymore pack. His eyes lock onto mine, filled with a dark intent that chills me to the bone.

“Alpha Dane says you need to come with me,” he sneers, advancing with a confidence that belies his ignorance.

“Tell him to go fuck himself,” I retort, moving to snatch up the fire poker. Brandishing it like a weapon with hands that don’t tremble—not even a little. My father didn’t raise a coward. I guess I can thank him for that at the very least.

We clash, and the room is a blur of movement and metallic clangs and claws.

The poker hits him in the shoulder, and he growls, a snarl tearing out of him viciously.

Only the next time I swing it, he grabs it, ripping it from my grasp.

Through the window, I catch glimpses of my pack mates disappearing into the safety of bunkers, their forms blurs of motion against the backdrop of chaos.

“Your father is on his way. He left before me. He should be there any moment,” Zayn yells through the mindlink, momentarily distracting me as I try to keep distance between me and this asshole.

I climb over the bed toward the window. Just as I am about to jump out through it and shift, I am tackled.

“Your mate won’t make it in time,” my attacker taunts, his breath hot on my face as we grapple. I see it in his eyes—the fear. He knows they underestimated me.

We grapple on the floor, his larger body pushing his weight down on me.

I wiggle free, clawing out from under him.

He grips my legs as my palm connects with his face.

He growls and tries to drag me closer, when I roll, loosening his grip.

Lifting my foot, my heel connects with his face, he grunts and clutches his face.

I don’t wait to watch him recover. I’m already moving.

“Zayn!” My soul screams for him, the bond we share is a raging torrent of emotions. Fear, anger, love—it all melds into one as I fight tooth and nail to escape the packhouse, only for another to climb the railing of the balcony as I go to run out onto it.

Never thought I’d die in jeans and a bra, I think wryly, my claws slipping free of my fingertips as I rake them across his face.

My heart leaps. Zayn. I climb the railing of the balcony just as more of Dane’s men pour into my room.

Seeing them, I jump. The ground rushes toward me, and I bite my own tongue at the jolt when I hit the ground.

Then another figure bursts through the trees beside the pack house.

His figure scans the surroundings, taking in Dane’s warriors. Dad.

“ Get down!” Zayn’s voice is a thunderclap of authority through the mindlink, and I obey without thought, dropping to the ground. A blur of fur and fury— Zarek in his wolf form—leaps over me, colliding with an attacker who had been poised to strike.

“ Zayn!” The relief in my shout is palpable as I scramble to my feet, it’s cut short by the sheer number of men swarming around us. Zarek’s silver eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, fierce and unyielding, before he’s pulled into the fray, and my father makes his way over to me.

“Come with me, now!” Dad grabs my arm, the urgency in his grip matching the fear in his eyes. I cast a glance at Zarek, who growls, tearing into one of Dane’s men.

“Go with him!” Zayn orders me through the bond. We bolt together, dodging snapping jaws and flying claws. My gaze is locked behind me, where Zayn fights like the Alpha he is, a force of nature unleashed.

“ Too many,” he snarls over the mindlink, his mental touch laced with pain. “Run with your father. Go!”

“Zayn, no!” I stumble, nearly falling as I witness him being overwhelmed, attackers piling on like wolves on a fallen stag.

“Keep moving, Cleo!” Dad yanks me forward.

“ Zayn!” Tears blur my vision, hot and angry. The bond between us pulses with desperation, our connection a physical thing I’m not ready to sever.

“ Go, Cleo!” Zayn’s command reverberates through me, a mixture of love and something darker, something that tastes like goodbye.

My wolf howls in my head as she tries to come forward.

Zayn’s command rolls over her, making her wail in my head.

I choke back a sob, torn between the need to stay and fight and the instinct to submit to Zayn’s command when my father slaps me so hard my surroundings jolt.

Only then do I realize we have stopped by the tree line.

“Get it together. And keep fucking moving!” my father snarls. I blink at him, and he raises his hand again to slap me when I hear Zayn’s voice in my head. His command smashing against me like a sledgehammer, making my entire body rigid.

“Get out of here, Cleo, go with your father!” Zayn’s command is like an electric jolt lancing up my spine as he tosses his full weight behind it.

My father, recognizing I am in a mindlink, drops his hand, then yanks my arm. As we plunge into the thick underbrush that lines the edge of pack territory. My legs pump harder, my lungs burn, and behind me, the sounds of battle fade into a haunting silence that tells me all I need to know.

We’re alone now. And Zayn, he’s in the hands of Alpha Dane.

Darting through the trees, my heart hammers against my rib cage, a frenzied beat urging me on. Every inhale sharpens the metallic scent of blood and violence that hangs heavy in the air behind us. Dad’s hand is an iron clamp around my arm, pulling me forward.

“Keep your eyes ahead, Cleo!” he barks, his voice barely audible over the thunder of my own pulse in my ears.

“Focus, Cleo! We need to—” Dad’s words cut off as we skid to a halt. Ahead, the path narrows, and for a heartbeat, we’re exposed.

“Through there,” he instructs, nodding toward a barely visible break in the underbrush. “It’s a shortcut.”

I nod, pushing my legs faster. Dane’s pack involved; Zayn’s secretive behavior this morning—it clicks together like puzzle pieces locking into place.

It’s all connected. But how. Dane’s men attack the one time he isn’t at the packhouse?

Betrayal lingers bitter on my tongue, a taste I dread yet can’t deny.

“Can you still sense him?” Dad’s question pierces my thoughts. “Cleo, can you sense Zayn still?” Dad snaps at me.

“Zayn?” My voice cracks. “Yes, it’s fading—he’s…” The bond between us, once a blazing fire, now flickers weakly, a candle with its flame growing weaker.

“Zayn will be fine,” Dad says, his eyes fierce slits of determination. “We’ll regroup and figure this out.”

We plunge deeper into the forest, the world blurring into streaks of green and brown.

“Did you know?” I gasp between breaths, the question clawing its way out. “About Dane?”

He shakes his head, jaw set hard. “I knew something was off. There were talks of it, I didn’t think it would be today. Trust between Alphas is thin, but your mate has started a war.”

I’m about to demand to know what he knows when he growls and glares at me.

“Later,” Dad says sharply. “Now, we run.”

Branches lash at my skin, leaving fiery streaks in their wake. I push the pain aside, focusing on the rhythmic thud of our escape. The forest is a maze, yet my father navigates it like he has a damn map, making me more suspicious of him. Why is he so familiar with Zayn’s pack territory?

“Almost there,” he assures me as we reach a narrow creek, the water whispering secrets I’m not sure I want to hear.

“Where will we go?”

“Safe house,” he replies. “We’ll plan our next move.”

“What about Lydia and Linda?”

“They’re safe. Dane doesn’t want them,” he tells me. His words make no sense; why would Dane want me now, when he knows I won’t marry Boyd?

With one last surge of effort, we cross the creek, the cool water splashing against my heated skin, stealing the air from my lungs at the suddenness of it. My clothes become drenched and heavier as we cross.

“Trust me, Cleo,” Dad says, reading my turmoil. “We’ll get him back.”