Chained By The Alpha By Jessica Hall

“Well, not yet, obviously. But we plan to mate and mark each other once she is of age,” Deacon adds, and Zayn’s gaze flicks to me. His eyes flicker, and I take a step back from him, bumping into Deacon at the feral look he gives me

“Ts that so?” he asks, his eyes narrowing

I suddenly don’t know how to answer the question. Was it a question? Why is he so

angry?

The interaction 1s thankfully interrupted by the sound of my name being called again. “Cleo!”

This time, it’s Dad. “I thought I told you to get

in the car!” he commands. “Deacon, hands off!” my father snaps at him as he approaches us. I

pull on the handle to show him the car is locked

“I wasn’t disobeying, but last I checked, Dad. I’m a werewolf, not a ghost; I can’t walk through solid objects,” I retort

He glares at me but then hits the button on the fob. “We’ll see if you’re so smart when we get home and you find yourself grounded.”

“I’m nineteen!” I growl at him. I was so excited the first time I growled. I remember it fondly

Roughly a year ago, Lydia and I were fighting (what else is new?). I startled both of us when I did it. However, Dad seems unimpressed with me using it against him right now

“Under my roof, it doesn’t matter if you’re five

or fifty. What I say goes!” he snaps, opening his door and climbing in. I see Lydia smirking as she walks to her mother’s car, and Deacon quickly hugs me

“New club opens up tomorrow,” he whispers

“I’m grounded, didn’t you hear?” I ask him

“Never stopped you before.” He pecks me on the lips, but I push him away, worried Dad may have seen. Deacon gives me a wink. He holds up two hands, indicating with his fingers to meet him at 7 p.m. I nod before turning to climb in the car, only to spot Zayn storming away, and I climb in the car to endure my father’s wrath

The entire drive home, I have to listen to my father rant about how the rogue attack was all Alpha Zayn’s fault, and that the Alpha meeting should never have been held in the same place

every month

Yet, this brings my thoughts back to border patrols: if my father isn’t allowing Alpha Zayn’s men near our borders, we’ll be sitting ducks

“Are you really not going to allow Alpha Zayn’s men to patrol our borders?” I ask him, and he glances at me

“He is not coming near our pack,” he growls, and I shake my head

“We don’t have enough people to watch the borders, especially near the forest edge. We need him!” I snap. The house lights reflect in the windshield of my father’s SUV as he drives us home. It’s a large two-story house on the outskirts of the city, yet the suburb it is 1n 1s huge

My father’s eyes narrow. “We don’t need him, and you will not tell me what I can and cannot do, Cleo.”

My father’s face is scarlet red, his eyes are bulging, and his fists are balled

“Yes, we do,” I mutter as I watch the trees pass by as we drive down the road, my eyes glazing over, making each tree run together like a mass of brown, green,

“No, we don’t. And you do not question me on this. You are not alpha, and you do not make decisions for our pack!”

I press my lips in a line. He 1s being ridiculous

All this because his ego is hurt over god knows what. Apparently, that is reason enough to put the entire pack at risk

I climb out of the car and quickly make my way to the front door, wanting to get away from my father. I was so close to getting a chance to voice my opinion, but he just shut me down as usual. I take a deep breath in and out, trying not to let his words get to

me

But when I reached the door, I stopped in surprise. It’s not just my father here; the pack doctor is waiting for us, too

“Cleo dear, your Father, he mind linked me. He said you’re hurt?” He looks me over, and his eyes widen at my leg before he pushes me into the house

“It’s stopped bleeding now. I’m fine,” I tell him, but Doc shakes his head, leading me into the kitchen

“Sit!” he tells me, and I move toward the table,

pulling out a chair obligingly. Doc grabs scissors, cutting my pants to get to my leg when my father walks in. He glances at my leg, his face paling with worry

“Seriously, Joseph, you should have taken her straight to the hospital; if she were human, she would be dead with how much blood she has lost.”

My father fumbles for a response. “T didn’t realize it was that bad. She never said anything,” he blubbers out, and Doc shakes his head

“How is the pain?” he asks, and I shrug, not wanting to give Dad more reason to be angry, yet his temper seems to dim a little. A few moments later, Lydia and Linda arrive

home

Lydia is talking excitedly about the ball next door. I roll my eyes. Seriously? How much more selfish could she get? We have more pressing

issues, and she is gushing about some poor soul she’ll use until she has no use for him

My father cuts them both a glare when they enter the kitchen. Linda looks at me, and her eyes take in my injured leg before the fake blubbering waterworks start. Linda’s high-pitched squeal of horror sounds like that of a dying cat. She rushes over, pretending not to be the conniving bitch I know she is. I swat her fussing hands away as she tries to embrace me

“I’m fine,” I tell her, not interested in putting up with her theatrics and her crocodile

tears

“Linda, I need to stitch her up,” Doc says as I hiss in pain when the needle pierces my

skin

He presses aauze against the wound while pulling the thread through, stitchina me

moves onto my arm where there 1s another cut that needs stitches, too. Even though they were painful for a moment-Doc’s experienced hands work fast enough to get them done quickly so that it’s not too bad