Page 80 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)
· Cleo ·
The steam from the teacup curls up into my face as I drink the last of my tea, a faint comfort against the unease curling in my stomach. With each flick of the remote, the channels blur into a muddied mix of colors and sounds until one word freezes me— disappearance.
“Alpha Zayn has been reported missing,” the anchorwoman’s crisp voice slices through the room. I bolt upright, the cup clutched in my hand now forgotten as the image of Zayn flashes before my eyes.
It can’t be true. Not Zayn. Not my mate.
“In an unprecedented turn of events in our city’s history, Alpha Dane of Claymore pack, is being hailed as a hero tonight.
Reports are coming in that Alpha Dane has courageously taken down one of the city’s most formidable Alphas, Alpha Zayn Holt, in a daring rescue operation.
” Her voice grates my nerves even more. “In a bold confrontation, he single-handedly subdued Alpha Zayn, who had kidnapped Cleo, the young heiress of the Shadowcrest Pack, after learning she was to be wedded to Alpha Boyd of Claymore, giving Alpha Dane a higher ranking in the city council.”
I nearly choke on the sip of tea I’d taken, bitterness swamping my tongue.
Hero? The word is a vile taste in my mouth, an ironic accolade for a man so steeped in deception.
The TV screen shows Dane’s smug expression as he waves to camera crews set up after he left our pack.
I look at my father, who seems deep in thought, before turning my attention back to the TV.
“Authorities are currently piecing together the details of this dramatic confrontation, but early indications suggest Alpha Dane intervened solely to protect Cleo, his future daughter-in-law, strengthening frail alliances. As the community reels from these developments, questions regarding the whereabouts of Alpha Zayn are yet to be answered.”
Kidnapped? A laugh, sharp and hollow, escapes me.
If only they knew the truth. That I fled willingly into Zayn’s arms, away from a betrothal I never wanted.
My fingers tighten around the delicate porcelain, my grip betraying the calm I try to project.
Zayn would never let them paint him as the villain without reason. What had they done to him?
“Alpha Boyd is expected to make a statement tomorrow regarding the incident and his future wife. For now, the city finds itself at a crossroads tonight, with Alpha Dane’s actions sparking a mixture of praise and profound concern.
What will this mean for the balance of power among the city’s packs?
And more importantly, where is Alpha Zayn now?
Stay tuned as we continue to follow this developing story, promising to bring you the latest updates as they unfold.
” The anchorwoman drones on, but her words are drowned out by the roaring in my ears.
Kidnapped. Missing. Hero.
Lies. All of it.
I set the teacup down with a careful click before shutting the TV off. The screen mirrors back a distorted reflection of myself when I spot my father’s reflection also, his head down, as he watches me back through the darkened screen.
My fingers claw at the plush armrest of the couch, fabric bunching under my desperate grip.
Each ragged breath is a battle, and with it, I fight the choking vines of fear and the thorny brambles of guilt that threaten to overtake me.
With Zayn gone— captured, missing, in danger—I am full of uncertainty, each wave of news crashing over me, leaving me sputtering.
“Zayn,” I whisper into the silence of my mind, reaching out through the mindlink that connects me to him. There’s nothing. A cold void where once there was warmth, a palpable presence. He’s shutting me out, or worse, he can’t respond. My heart clenches at the thought.
“Zayn, please,” I try again, a plea threaded with desperation.
Silence greets me, heavy and absolute. My eyes burn, unshed tears threatening to spill over, I force them back when a knock shatters the silence, startling me from my inner turmoil.
My gaze snaps to the door as another knock follows, more insistent this time.
My father stands from his chair, his face etched with lines of regret and something akin to sorrow.
“I’m sorry, Cleo,” he begins, voice laden with an apology that does little to ease the stone of betrayal settling in my stomach.
“I won’t put you at risk. Zayn being captured was never part of his plan.
” His eyes meet mine, filled with a plea for understanding I’m not sure I can give.
“I won’t risk you any more than he already has. ”
Air rushes from my lungs in a silent gasp, the implications of his words wrapping around me like a vice. This isn’t just about Zayn, it’s about me, about what they’ll do to ensure I am compliant and obedient.
“Who is it?”
My father doesn’t answer; he merely turns toward the door, resignation clear on his shoulders. As his hand hovers over the handle, he sighs heavily.
I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I watch him. The door creaks open, revealing Alpha Dane, his towering presence filling the doorway like a dark omen. The faintest smirk on his lips as he steps into the room.
“You sold me out,” I accuse, my voice slicing through the charged silence, sharp and brittle with betrayal as I glare at my father’s back.
My father whirls around to face me, his expression contorting with frustration and something that looks dangerously close to regret. “I’m protecting you!” he snaps back, his eyes flashing with the ferocity that has commanded our pack for years.
“Protecting me? Or protecting your alliance?” My words are laced with venom, my heart pounding in my chest. Every instinct screams at me to fight, to flee, but I am rooted to the spot by a mixture of disbelief and dawning horror.
Dane’s gaze rakes over me, dark and calculating, and I shiver despite myself. “Cleo, my dear,” he says, his voice a low purr that sends a chill down my spine. “It seems we have much to discuss.”
“Discuss?” I scoff, holding his gaze with all the strength I’ve mustered. “There’s nothing to discuss. You can’t force me—”
“Can’t I?” he interrupts, a dark eyebrow arching. “I think I can change your mind,” he smiles, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Alpha Dane’s cold hand clamps over mine, pulling my attention to the small screen he’s holding.
The dim light from the device casts ghastly shadows across his face as a video plays—a scene so horrific that bile rises in my throat.
Zayn, bound and tortured, hangs from the ceiling on a chain as Alpha Dane’s men pummel him.
“Stop,” I gasp, trying to wrench away. Dane rips me closer, wrapping his arms around me, holding me against him and forcing me to watch.
“Watch, Cleo. This is the future of your mate if you don’t comply.” His voice is devoid of warmth, each word a nail in the coffin of hope I’ve been desperately clinging to.
“You will do this, or I will live stream his death for you.” His eyes are like chips of ice—cold, hard, merciless.
“No, you won’t get away with this. The entire city is looking for him.
” I snarl, ripping away from him and heading for the door.
I feel for my wolf, urging her forward. Yet the moment I do, I realize something’s wrong.
A numbness spreads through my limbs, a disconnect between mind and body that leaves me reeling.
My wolf, usually a thrumming presence within me, is silent.
Terror grips my heart as I glance at the teacup on the coffee table, the same one I’d finished not long ago.
“You drugged me!” I accuse, my voice cracking as I stare at my father, who can’t meet my gaze.
“Just a mild sedative,” Dane murmurs, almost soothingly. “Ensures you can’t shift.”
My world narrows to a pinpoint of despair. Betrayed by my own blood, my autonomy is stripped away; I feel the weight of my choices—or lack thereof— crushing me.
The door opens again, and two of his men step in.
“So am I ordering my men to kill Zayn, or do we have a wedding to attend?” Dane asks, and my eyes dart to him.
None of this makes any sense. First, Dane wanted a virgin, and I know he can smell Zayn all over me.
Then my pack, but Zayn said he already owns it, what could he possibly want me for still?
“Cleo?” my father urges. I don’t look at him, instead head for the door knowing Alpha Dane’s car will be waiting.
The ride to Alpha Dane’s packhouse is a blur, a surreal slide through a landscape that looks too sharp, too vivid against the backdrop of my jumbled thoughts.
As we pull up, the preparations for the wedding are in full swing under the pre-dawn gloom.
Tents are rising on the lawn, festooned with fluttering ribbons and blooms that sway gently in the breeze.
“Everything is set, and will be finished by morning,” Dane’s voice cuts through the cool air, not just for my father’s benefit but loud enough for all to hear. “The news will broadcast the union of our packs, a show of alliances and power.”
His words fade into a drone as I’m escorted through the bustling Claymore Packhouse.
Servants dash about, their preparations chaotic as they get ready for tomorrow.
Amid the flurry, my eyes catch a surprising sight—Maya, disguised as a maid, slipping from an office.
Our gazes lock, and her subtle wink sends a jolt of hope surging through me, a dangerous flicker in the gloom.
Dane continues ranting about tomorrow’s significance as he leads us upstairs, but my mind lingers on Maya. What could she possibly be doing here? And why the hell was she coming out of an office?