Page 111 of Chained By the Alpha
“Zayn said he was trying to protect me,” I murmur, the weight of my uncertainty heavy in my voice.
“Zayn has his own agenda, Cleo,” my father replies, his grip on my shoulder tightening. “You need to focus on what’s best for you and our pack.”
“How can I do that when I don’t even know what’s true?” The ache in my heart is unbearable.
“Give it time,” my father advises, pulling me into a tight embrace. His familiar scent washes over me, bringing with it a sense of comfort and safety I haven’t felt in so long. “Things will become clear eventually.”
After a few moments, I reluctantly let him go. “How did you get past Zayn’s man downstairs?” I ask him.
“Knocked him out.”
I place my hands on my hips. “Really, Dad?”
“I put him in the garden, it’s not like I left him on the stairs to be trampled.” I roll my eyes, and he moves to the small kitchenette and grabs some forks before handing me a plastic dish full of Chinese. “So are you going to tell me what you and Zayn were arguing about?” he asks.
I shrug; I don’t trust anyone right now, least of all the men in my life, and that means my father, especially after learning about the rogues my father banished.At the same time, he is my father, and I know he loves me in his own way. Even if he struggles to convey that, especially now that I’m older.
The dim light of the room casts shadows on my father’s face, highlighting the deep lines etched into his forehead. I can see the weariness in his eyes, but there’s also a glint of determination that I’ve always admired.
“Tell me everything,” he says, his voice low and firm. I take a shaky breath, preparing myself for the tough conversation ahead.
“Zayn showed me this video,” I begin, my heart racing as I recount the events from earlier, keeping out the part where Zayn killed him, instead telling him Zayn scared him off. I don’t know why I don’t share that information. I just can’t bring myself to throw Zayn under the bus for murder. As I speak, my father listens intently, his expression unreadable.
“Deacon was trying to hurt you?” he asks, his brow furrowing with concern.
“Zayn claims he was protecting me,” I reply, frustration lacing my words. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” My hands tremble as I clench them into fists, tears threatening to spill over once more.
“Sweetheart,” my father says gently, reaching out to touch my arm. His calloused fingers feel rough against my skin yet oddly comforting. “I understand your confusion, but you need to trust yourself. What does your gut tell you?”
“Everything is so tangled,” I admit, my voice cracking. “I want to believe Zayn, but I can’t shake this feeling that there’s more to the story.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he promises, pulling me into a tight embrace. The warmth of his body envelops me, and for a moment, I allow myself to forget the pain and doubt that consume me. I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. I can feel the warmth of his embrace radiating through me, and I realize I need to trust myself and move on because whatever Zayn and I were started as a lie and ended on the truth, no matter how painful that truth is.
Despite what the rogues told us, there are two sides to every story, and I plan on finding out what both sides are. Maybe somewhere in the middle, I will find the truth. My father’s appearance is unexpected, yet it might be a way for me to figure out what truly happened all those years ago.
“Thank you, Dad,” I whisper, my throat tightening with emotion. “I just… I need to know the truth, and what evidence Zayn had wasn’t enough; I need more than a video that is obscured and without audio.” He takes a deep breath and looks away. I can tell he is struggling to find the right words. He takes a moment before he finally speaks.
“What if the truth isn’t what you want to hear? What if Zayn is lying? What if he did set all this up to get back at me?” he replies, releasing me from his embrace. I take a deep breath and bite my lip.
“I can handle it,” I say firmly. I need to know the truth.
I sigh heavily. That scares me the most because I truly don’t know Zayn the way I should, not enough to say he didn’t have a hidden agenda. “First, let’s get you out of this place and back to the pack.”
“Back to the pack?” I ask hesitantly, my heart skipping a beat at the thought. “After everything that’s happened?”
“Sometimes, the only way to find the truth is to face it head-on,” he says, his voice laced with conviction. I furrow my brows. “We can still fix this. You can still be Alpha. Instead of putting your life on hold, take your birthright, Cleo. I don’t want the pack to go to Lydia, but with you gone, who else am I to hand it to?” he mumbles the last part. I chew my lip, unsure because after all these weeks, one thing I know for sure is that I can’t trust him either. At least I know what to expect from my father. Everything with Zayn came as such a shock and so quickly out of the blue that I can’t trust him.
“Zayn claims I am his mate,” I tell him, this seems to take him by surprise. His brows scrunch together, and he seems to think hard for a second.
“Well, I guess you’ll know in a couple of days,” he shrugs.
“And if he is?”
“Do you think he is? Though if he is, that might explain his actions because I know if our roles reversed and this was all happening with Linda, I would destroy this city for the bond. Bonds won’t allow you to ignore them. Some have successfully, but even taking a mate, you still recognize those bonds; it just depends on how long you’ve been with your chosen one to see how strong that bond remains.”
“And if he is my mate?”
“Nothing stops a mate bond, but you can survive a broken one; I promise you that.”
