Chapter 70
Cleo
Zayn’s lips trace a fiery path down my neck, igniting a trail of desire that pools deep within me. His hands are everywhere, deft and commanding, coaxing moans from my lips, which he does his best to muffle. The world outside my bedroom fades away— into the electric touch of the man I’m tangled with on my crappy rumpled dorm sheets. Zayn shoves me back on the bed; his eyes flicker as he moves over the top of me
But reality crashes back to both of us when my phone blares its insistent ring, slicing through the haze that swept over us. Zayn pauses, and my head turns to the side where my bag 1s. I
push on his chest, and he growls at the interruption but reluctantly allows me to get up and grab it
Climbing out of my bed I snatch it from where it rests on my bag and books. My heart sinks; I know without looking who it will be. With a heavy sigh, I glance at Zayn, and he takes that opportunity to pull me back onto his lap so Iam straddling him
“Don’t answer it,” he groans, his lips moving toward mine. I press my finger gently against Zayn’s full lips, pausing him mid-kiss. He glances up, eyebrows knit in annoyance at the interruption
“Hold on,” I whisper, holding up the vibrating device between us so he can see Dad’s name flashing on the screen
“Your timing sucks, Joseph,” Zyan mutters under his breath and I glare at him telling him to shut up before pressing answer. “Hey, Dad?”
“Where are you?” he doesn’t even give me a chance to answer. “You need to be at pack training. Now,” his voice is curt, brooking no argument
“Seriously? Now?” I pull away from Zayn, but he grabs my hips, holding me in place. “Can’t it wait?”
“No, Cleo, it can’t. lam sick of this tiff between you and Lydia,” Dad growls through the phone, his alpha tone seeping through the line, making me shiver
“Maybe if Lydia hadn’t called Mom a whore” I
start, my voice rising with anger. He hasn’t even heard my side of the story and is making
assumptions already
“Enough!” he snaps. “I don’t know who to believe anymore, Cleo. You’ve been caught out lying too many times.”
“Are you serious?” I feel a hollow pit form in my stomach. “Dad, Lydia lies like it’s as natural as breathing.”
“I don’t care. You are hardly role model material right now. Today, it will be sorted out properly once and for all. We need to stand united, and you two look on the verge of going to war with each other. Be there at 4 PM.” He hangs up before I can argue further
“Damn it,” I curse, throwing the phone onto the bed. It’s already 3:30 PM-the sinking feeling in my gut tells me this will end badly, but what choice do I have?
“Your father being a dick?” Zayn’s voice, laced with concern, breaks through my frustration
“Yeah,” I admit, running a hand through my tousled hair. “He wants me at pack training to sort out the drama with Lydia.”
“Lydia again?” Zayn’s gray eyes flash with a mixture of irritation and something else. “That girl is nothing but trouble for you.”
“Tell me about it,” I say, pushing myself off his lap. My movements are jerky and rushed. I have to get ready, have to face whatever ridiculous resolution Dad has in mind
“Don’t go, come back to mine.” Zayn’s hand catches mine, stilling my frantic movements. His thumb brushes over my skin, sending shivers down my spine despite the dread coiling in my belly
“T have to, you know this.” I remind him, and he hangs his head and curses
“Fine, just be careful around her.”
“Always am,” I respond, though my bravado feels like it’s wearing thin these days. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll handle it; I am not your
problem.”
“Like hell you aren’t,” he says, the edge in his tone making me pause. “You shouldn’t go
alone.”
“Zayn, this 1s pack business. I have to deal with
- My father would flip his lid if you showed up with me.” I slip my hand from his
grasp, feeling
the loss of his warmth immediately
“Pack business or not, it sounds like a trap Lydia has you walking into,” he insists,
standing
to tower over me. His presence is commanding, reassuring, and yet utterly infuriating
“Since when are you my keeper?” I shoot back, the emotional turmoil bubbling into
defiance
“Since I started dating you, Cleo,” he retorts, his gaze intense
“You’re being ridiculous,” I tell him
“Am I? Because you’ve had nothing but issues for weeks now with that bitch, and every time I’ve spoken to you since your father has been forcing you into situations he has no right putting you in.”
I swallow hard, my heart pounding. “Just… stay out of it, alright? This is something I need to do on my own.”
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he’ll argue further. But then he nods, stepping back with a frustrated huff. “Fine. But if things go sideways, I’m coming for
you.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I reply, though part of me thrills at the idea of being someone worth coming for. Deacon certainly wouldn’t have dropped everything to come to my aid out of fear of my father
The look he gives me as he turns to leave 1s filled with unspoken promises and dark
warnings
“See you later,” I say, but he’s already climbing out my window. He stops perched on the windowsill and motions with one finger for me to go to him. I move toward him, only for him to grab the front of my top and yank me closer, crashing his lips against mine briefly. “Training
grounds?” I pull away. “I just wanna know in case you call me to come get you,” he adds. I eye him suspiciously
“Or just say the word, and I’ll march you out that door while telling your guards to suck each other’s dicks and kidnap you?” I huff