Chained By The Alpha By Jessica Hall

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I chide gently

“We need more information before we can form any theories.”

“Right,” she agrees, taking a deep breath to steady herself

“Let’s check his place. Maybe he has just passed out,” I suggest. However, the uncertainty 1s eating away at me, but I refuse to let fear consume me

“Fine, let’s go,” Lydia nods frantically and starts pushing me toward the door

As we walk outside to my car, I can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into her lately. I know she’s always had a thing for Deacon, but this

sudden surge of concern seems… intense

“Where are my father and Linda?” I ask as we

make our way to the car. She looks at me briefly before answering, “He went to speak with Alpha Samuel, they’re discussing some pack business.”

“Pack business? What kind of pack business?” I press, feeling uneasy. Something tells me there’s more to it than that

“Something about alliances; who cares, Deacon is missing,” she snaps, ripping my car door open. I pause in the driveway, a shudder running up my spine. Alliances with Alpha Dane… My father wouldn’t agree to a marriage alliance without my consent, would he?

Shaking the thought from my head, I open the car door. “Cleo, hurry up. Who cares where they are! It’s nothing for you to worry about,” she

dismisses my question with a wave. “Let’s just focus on finding Deacon right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh, knowing it’s pointless arguing with her. We get in the car and drive in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can feel the tension between us, thick and palpable, like a fog that refuses to lift

As we drive, my mind races with possibilities, my fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel, and I can’t help but sneak glances at Lydia. She’s always been so composed, so calculating in her moves. But now? She is a storm of emotions, barely contained beneath the surface. I’d known for years that she had feelings for Deacon, but it still stings to see her so invested 1n his well-being

“Did Deacon say anything to you about where he was going last night?” I inquire, hoping to

get any information I can from her regarding Deacon’s whereabouts

She turns in her seat to look at me

“Why don’t you know where he is, Cleo? Weren’t you with him last night?”

I’m taken aback by her abrupt shift from worry to anger. “No, Lydia, I wasn’t with Deacon

Deacon ditched me! What’s going on with you?”

“Ditched you? I saw him leave with you!” she snarls, and confusion washes over me. What does she even mean by that? She’s delusional

Her face contorts in anger. “Then where were you, I saw him leave with you? And why can’t we find him?”

“T’m not arguing over Deacon with you, it’s none

of your business where I was,” I growl at her and Lydia mutters something under her breath

As her accusations hang in the air, I start to piece things together. Lydia’s overreaction, her intense worry – it’s more personal than it should be. She’s hiding something, but I can’t dwell on that now. Deacon is missing, and that’s what matters

Pulling into Deacon’s street Lydia’s agitation seems to grow with each passing second. Lydia’s clenched jaw and furrowed brow, her tapping fingers and restless movements, all, contribute to the image of a person on the brink of panic

Her eyes scan the familiar street, searching for any sign of Deacon

We stop out the front of his house, but his car 1s not here, which makes worry gnaw at me further. I run my fingers through my hair, trying

to remain calm

We step out of the car and approach the front door, my heart pounding in my chest

Lydia reaches out to ring the doorbell, her hand trembling slightly. I can see the fear in her eyes, the desperation to find any trace of Deacon. The seconds stretch into eternity as we wait for someone to answer the door, but there’s no response

We exchange a nervous glance before Lydia takes a step back, peering through the windows in search of any signs of life inside. The curtains are drawn shut, so we are unable to see anything beyond them

We are about to leave when I suddenly remember the spare key that he always kept outside. “The spare key,” I blurt out. “Deacon

always keeps a spare key under the doormat.”

Without wasting another moment, I rush over and lift up the doormat, revealing the

small silver key hidden beneath, letting out a breath of relief. I glance at Lydia, who waves her hands at me before shoving me out of the way, she snatches the key and jams it in the lock

The door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit hallway, and all the lights are off

The house 1s silent, and a chill runs down my spine as we step cautiously inside. It’s as

if time has stopped, the air heavy with anticipation. We make our way through the familiar rooms, searching for any clue that might lead us to Deacon

Lydia’s footsteps echo behind me, her breathing shallow and uneven. I can sense her desperation

growing with each passing second, matching my own mounting fear. The house feels empty, void of any signs of life. Where 1s he?

We both move from room to room, meeting back in the foyer. “Maybe he stayed with friends, his car isn’t even here,” I tell her, yet the sinking feeling in my stomach causes knots of anxiety

“Or maybe he didn’t make it home at all. Maybe he is dead in a ditch somewhere,” she retorts, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Maybe you’re the one who’s lying, Cleo. Did you do something to him?”

“What would I lie about? And why would I do something to MY boyfriend Lydia, just shut up, you aren’t making any sense!” I snarl incredulously, feeling my anger rise at her

accusation