Chained By The Alpha Jessica Hall

Cleo

The steam from the tea cup 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 sit bolt upright, the cup clutched in my hand now forgotten as the image of Zayn flashes before my eyes

My heart hammers against my rib cage. 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." she continues her voice grating my nerves even more. "In a daring 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 that 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. But 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

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I set the tea cup 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 Zayn. But 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, but 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

"T'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 1n a silent gasp, the

implications of his words wrapping around me like a vice. This isn't just about Zayn now-it's about me, about what they'll do to ensure I am

compliant and obedient

"Who 1s 1t?" My voice is steadier than I feel

The question is pointed and edged with a growing sense of foreboding