Chained By The Alpha By Jessica Hall
Chapter 69

I blink, trying to clear the red haze from my vision, and I finally see her Lydia, crumpled against the wall, her face a mask of blood-red agony

“You’re going to pay for that, Cleo,” she gasps between sobs, her eyes bright with unshed tears and hatred. Her threat slices through the last wisps of rage within me, leaving a cold, hollow space in its wake realizing what I’ve done

“Go cry to my father, Lydia. Make sure you tell him what you said, though!” The words call back at her as I keep walking

Upon reaching safety, I shove the door open and slip through, slamming it shut behind me. The

guards, those watchful hawks, remain outside, their presence a reminder of the gilded cage I’m trapped in

But before I can sigh in relief, a hand clamps over my mouth, silencing the scream that instinctively rises. My elbow shoots back, connecting with a wall of muscle a familiar firmness that halts my panic. “Gotta do better than that, Love,” Zayn’s voice rumbles against my ear, his laughter a low vibration that sends a shiver down my spine

“Zayn!” I gasp out his name, spinning in his grasp, my hands splayed against the hard planes of his chest. His gray eyes dance with mischief, a spark of wildness that mirrors the tumultuous storm within me

“Missed me?” He smirks, the arrogance that so defines Alpha Zayn Holt written all over his

infuriatingly handsome face

“Like a thorn in my side.” But even as I say it, my body betrays me, leaning into his touch, craving the heat of his skin on mine

“Is that why your heart’s racing? Or just the adrenaline of smacking Lydia about?” He chuckles as his thumb strokes my cheek, wiping away an invisible smear of her blood

“You heard?”

“Someone live streamed it,” he tells me. Great, my father 1s going to hand me my ass

I jab a finger toward the door, my pulse racing with a mix of alarm and excitement. “You shouldn’t be here,” I hiss, acutely aware of the danger his presence poses

“Relax, Cleo,” he drawls, closing the distance between us in two easy strides. His smirk widens, and there’s a predatory glint in his eye that both alarms and thrills me. “They won’t hear a thing. And talking was never on the agenda.”

Before I can muster another protest, his hands are cradling my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks with a tenderness that contradicts his brazen nature. Then, he’s leaning down, his lips mere inches from mine, and I’m caught in the gravitational pull of his kiss as his lips brush mine

My fingers tangle in the fabric of Zayn’s shirt, pulling him closer as our kiss deepens. The world outside the whispers, the guards, Lydia-dissolves into nothingness. There’s just Zayn and his intoxicating scent. My hands, driven by a desire that feels bone-deep, slip beneath his

shirt, craving the warmth of his skin against mine

“Easy, Love,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice a deep rumble that resonates within

me

He takes my wrists gently but firmly, easing my hands out from under his shirt. “Soon,” he promises

I want to protest, to pull him back to me and lose myself in the heat of his embrace, but the reality of my situation presses in. “You can’t stay here,” I whisper, my words laced with an urgency that mirrors the frantic beating of my heart. My eyes dart to the door, half expecting it to burst open and my world to shatter into chaos

Zayn’s gray eyes lock onto mine, steady and unshakable. “Let them try to take me away,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-

smile that does dangerous things to my resolve

“Zayn, this isn’t a joke.” My voice cracks, betraying the fear I’m desperately trying to keep at bay. “If they replace you here…”

“Shh,” he soothes, brushing a thumb across my cheek. “They won’t. You worry too much.”

I let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch despite myself. His confidence is infectious, but it’s a fleeting balm. The stakes are too high, the risks too great. And yet, with Zayn so close, with his scent enveloping me and his hands on my skin

“Zayn…” I begin, but the rest of my warning dies on my lips as he leans in, capturing my mouth once more with an urgency that leaves no room for words. Every part of me screams to push him away, to protect us both from the

fallout that would surely follow but the sire bond, the magnetic pull between us, makes resistance near impossible

As his hands roam over my body, every touch ignites a fire that threatens to consume me. It’s reckless, it’s dangerous-it’s everything I’ve been warned to avoid. And yet, I don’t want him to stop

I grab his wrists, trying to pull him away from me. The heat of his skin seeps into mine, urging me to forget everything but the here and now

“Zayn, seriously. If they catch you in here…”

He just laughs, a deep sound that only deepens my desperation worried my father’s enforcers will hear him. It’s a laugh that knows no fear, no consequence. “What’s your guard gonna do, come submit to me?” His eyes dance with mischief, and I can’t help but picture the scene

“Stop joking,” I hiss, glancing nervously at the door even though I know tt’s solidly shut. “No, they catch you, they’ll tell my father.” My voice trembles

His hands, which had been moments ago mapping the terrain of my body, still against

my ribs. His eyes lock onto mine, the golden flecks in them igniting with something fierce, something defiant. “And I told you, I don’t fear your father, so you shouldn’t either,” he replies confidently, his thumb tracing the curve of my hip bone

But the words that spill from my lips next come out laced with a cold dread. “He threatened to give my pack to Lydia,” I confess, the fear evident in my voice. The very thought coils in my stomach making me feel queasy knowing she would have her filthy paws on my mother’s pack

“That’s my mother’s pack!” I remind him. Zayn’s expression hardens, the playfulness

that danced in his eyes a moment ago now gone. He pulls me closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I know, Cleo. Let him give it to her if he so chooses. You’ll get it back, you only have to challenge her for it.” He lets me go, falling onto my bed while I ponder what he said

“By challenging her?” I ask, the idea slowly taking root

“See, you’re stressing over nothing. Now, get here,” he commands softly, patting the

bed beside him

“Why are you even here?” I question, still processing everything

“I missed you. Isn’t it obvious?” he says, pulling me down to straddle his lap

“Tt hasn’t even been half a day,” I deadpan, trying to maintain some semblance of

control

“And even that is too long,” he chuckles, his lips replaceing my neck