Chained By The Alpha By Jessica Hall

Cleo

I wake to the soft light filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the contours of Zayn’s face. His steady breathing is comforting beside me, his chest rising and falling with a peacefulness that belies the chaos of our lives. The warmth of his body seeps into my skin

For a brief, precious moment, the world outside this room ceases to exist the looming threats and my father’s ironclad expectations all fade into nothingness. I allow myself to revel in this illusion of serenity, nestled against Zayn, the Alpha whose presence promises protection and provokes an insatiable longing within me that I

can’t quite explain

But reality is a demanding beast, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness, reminding me that I can’t stay here, hidden away in the cocoon of Zayn’s arms; as much as I crave the escape from my own life right now, I know I’ll have to leave, eventually. The pull of my responsibilities and the gravity of my father’s unspoken yet inescapable demands claw me back to the surface, reminding me of how much trouble I’ll be in if he finds out I’m here

I stir slightly, careful not to wake him, my gaze lingering on the lines of his face the sharp jawline softened by sleep, his dark hair that falls haphazardly over his forehead. I trace the arc of his brow with my eyes, committing it to memory. His gray irises are hidden now, veiled by long lashes that flutter slightly as he sleeps. I

wonder what visions dance behind those closed lids when his brows furrow. As much as I like Zayn, I still hardly know anything about him

Right now, I am a serial killer’s wet dream, trusting blindly, yet Zayn feels like home; I don’t know if it is the sire bond or if I am starting to fall in love with the man. He’s so different from the persona everyone else sees him as, so different to Deacon

Deacon would never have stood up against my father the Zayn has; he wouldn’t have come to check on me if my father forbade it, as he did in the past; it wasn’t until I was begging my father to let me see Deacon that he allowed it, making me realize I’ve done nothing but chase after Deacon not once has he chased after me. Yet Zayn didn’t just tell my father to say no. He was willing to declare war over me against not one but two packs

With a sigh, I slip out from under the covers, my bare feet touching the cold floor as I sit on the edge of the bed, anchoring me to the present and reminding me of how much trouble I will be in

The absence of his heat leaves me exposed and vulnerable, but I wrap the sensation around me like armor. Today, I will face my father and the countless eyes that watch, waiting for me to stumble

“You’re up early,” Zayn’s voice is a husky whisper, his fingers reaching out and locking around my wrist. He moves beside me, gray eyes slowly opening, their intensity capturing me in them, and he pats the spot beside him in the bed, ripping the covers back

“Don’t make me drag you back. I wasn’t done cuddling you,” he growls playfully, the corners of his lips tugging slightly. “I need to get to school,” I remind him

His eyes flash black to his wolf for a second

“You need to get your butt back in bed,” he tells me. I raise an eyebrow at him, his words not a demand but more playful

“Ten minutes, then I need you to run me back to my dorm,” I tell him. Just as I move to lay back down, he grabs me, jerking me toward him and trapping me beneath him and the blanket. “Stay, you don’t have to leave Cleo,” he whispers

His hand brushes a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear with a tenderness that squeezes my heart. When he leans in, his lips find mine

I melt into the kiss for a brief moment, allowing myself to drown in the sensation, in the heady scent that 1s uniquely Zayn. But the chains of responsibility tighten around my chest, reminding me of the world that awaits beyond

this bubble I find myself in when around him

“L can’t,” I whisper against his lips, voice barely audible. His brow furrows as he leans back, watching my face intently. “Why can’t you?” he demands. “You’re 19 years old, Cleo, an adult, technically. You don’t have to answer to your father,” Zayn explains

“An adult, yes, but not in werewolf society; I’m still under his protection until I get my wolf.” I remind

“You don’t need his protection; you have me.” he frowns, his thumb brushing my cheek gently

“The silence from him… it’s the calm before the

storm, Zayn. You know it is.”

Zayn’s arm beneath me grips me tighter as if he could shield me from the inevitable with his

embrace alone. The muscles under his skin are coiled strength, the power of his aura evident as it rushes out blindingly fast, snatching the air from my lungs. I gasp, and he jolts like he didn’t realize he lost control momentarily. “Shit,” I

shake my head, knowing he didn’t mean it

His sigh is a deep rumble, echoing the unrest that’s building between us. The frown

that creases his brow seems out of place on Zayn’s usually confident face. He sits up in one fluid motion, his muscular arms trapping me in an embrace that shows what I feel for him isn’t one-

sided

“Let me worry about your father,” he says, his voice a low growl. “I can handle your father.” His gray eyes lock onto mine, fiercely reflecting the seriousness of his words

But as much as his presence is a balm to my

frayed nerves, I can’t surrender to the sense of security his words offer, knowing it will cause pack wars