Page 145 of Chained By the Alpha
“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’sbenefit 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?
Just then, as I reach the top step, the corridor ahead reveals more surprises. Lydia emerges, clinging to Boyd’s brother with an intimacy that speaks of more than mere acquaintance. They’re laughing, lost in their private joy until Lydia’s eyes find mine. Her smile momentarily wavers, then brightens artificially as she approaches.
“Can you believe it, sis?” Lydia exclaims, pulling me into an awkward hug. “I’m so thrilled to be one of your bridesmaids tomorrow!”
I return her hug stiffly. “What are you doing here, Lydia?”
“Oh, silly, your wedding of course,” she laughs, releasing me to gesture at Boyd’s brother, who watches us with a curious tilt of his head. “Besides, I told you the other week about how we could still be sisters… I’m marrying Boyd’s brother, remember!”
Her announcement spins in my head like a carousel too fast to grasp. It makes a grotesque kind of sense now, the pieces slotting together, yet no one mentioned Lydia was also being forced to marry too which by the look on her face she isn’t as excited as her words make her out to be.
Alpha Dane claps his hands, drawing attention as he joins us. “And with Lydia marrying into the family, we’ll take this city by storm. Alpha Samuel will make an official announcement tomorrow, right after your wedding,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a mix of greed and satisfaction. It clicks—a grim realization of how deep Samuel is tied into this plot, too, how entangled everyone is in Dane’s ambitious scheme.
The realization leaves a sour taste in my mouth. As I nod mechanically to Dane’s explanations, my father remains silent beside me, his eyes I can’t quite read.
“Everything is falling into place, Cleo,” Dane murmurs, his voice smooth like oil over water. “Tomorrow will be a day to remember.”
As he leads us further into the depths of the packhouse, my heart pounds. Maya’s presence here isn’t just a coincidence; it can’t be. Something is going on. Alpha Dane leads me to a room at the end of the corridor before shoving me inside.
“Get some sleep. Hair and makeup will be here around 8 AM,” Alpha Dane tells me, and my eyes go to my father behind him. “Come, Joseph; I have your suit arranged. You finally get to give your little girl away. How exciting.” Alpha Dane tells him as he shuts my door and locks it. Locked in the room they’ve designated as mine for the night, the silence is oppressive, stifling. Fatigue battles with adrenaline, urging me to rest, but the storm inside me rages too fiercely.
“Zayn,”I whisper, knowing he won’t answer, feeling the void where our connection should be. I press my palm against the cool windowpane, the moon’s silver glow a spectral caress. Sleep is a distant dream, and I lie down with a heavy heart, praying for a miracle, for Zayn to have a plan.
Because as the lock clicked into place, sealing my fate, I realized the true depth of my entrapment. And yet, beneath the fear and betrayal, a spark of defiance remains—a burning emberthat refuses to be extinguished, and I hold onto the hope that Zayn will find a way out of this mess.
The plush comfort of the bed mocks me as I perch on the edge, my hands clenching and unclenching in my lap. I reach out with the mindlink, seeking that familiar tether to Zayn, but it’s like grasping air—nothing but empty space where his presence should be as he blocks me out. All I’m met with is an echo of silence, a wall around his thoughts. It’s as if he’s deliberately keeping me out.
A sudden noise snaps me from my head, the sound of the door handle turning. I spring to my feet, expecting a maid or perhaps Alpha Dane with more threats or twisted reassurances. Instead, Boyd steps through, a smug curve to his lips as he closes the door with a definitive click of the lock.
“Are you here to gloat?” The words come out sharper than I intend, my voice hard with suppressed fear and anger.
Boyd smiles, that infuriatingly self-assured grin that makes my skin crawl. “Why would I gloat, Cleo? This is just… necessary arrangements.”
Necessary arrangements. His words are bile in my throat, a reminder of the wedding preparations I saw outside, of the twisted future being forced upon me.
