Chained By The Alpha By Jessica Hall

Thankfully, they don’t go off, but now I am left with attempting to find something else to cook

“Damn it,” I mutter, scouring the freezer for anything else suitable, but it’s mostly roasts, which need to be thawed out, or meats I don’t recognize, but they certainly aren’t steak

Wait the basement

I remember there’s another freezer down there, probably stocked with something salvageable, and I make a beeline for the door leading downstairs

Mid-step, my phone buzzes alive with Zayn’s ringtone a flutter of relief that has butterflies

swarming my belly, knowing he can’t hate me if he 1s ringing. I fumble for the device, answering the call with a quick swipe

“Hey,” I breathe out, anticipation knotting my stomach

“Cleo.” Zayn’s voice is a soothing balm laced with regret. “I…I’m sorry about earlier. That shouldn’t have happened.”

My chest warms at his words, and I quickly apologize. “It’s okay. I’m making dinner as a truce?”

“Truce accepted,” he says, a soft chuckle vibrating through the line. “Tm on my way home. Vance is driving me. Apparently, he doesn’t want me driving since I had a few drinks.”

“You’re drunk?” I ask him while feeling for the light on the wall

“No, but he insisted. Just… don’t set the place on

fire while you’re at it.”

I can’t help but laugh despite my culinary mishap moments ago. “No promises,” I reply, playful yet sincere. “But I’ll try for your sake.”

“Good,” he murmurs, and I can almost see the smile tugging at his lips, those silver eyes glinting with mirth. “T’ll be home soon; we are

just pulling up at the gates now.”

As I find the light switch, I step onto the cool concrete steps of the basement, and I focus on the task at hand

“So, what are you cooking?” Zayn asks

“I have no idea yet,” I laugh

The chill of the basement wraps around me like a cold embrace as I make my way to the old freezer tucked in the corner. The scent of damp earth mingles with the anticipation of Zayn’s return, igniting a fire within me that contrasts sharply with the frigid air

Boxes are stacked on top the freezer, and I quickly remove them, setting them down. “Hang on a second; I need to set the phone down,” I murmur to Zayn, a smile playing on my lips. My fingers wrap around the freezer’s handle, and I pull it open with a decisive tug. “Just put me on loudspeaker; at least then I will definitely hear the fire alarm go off.” I laugh softly into the emptiness, thinking of Zayn’s playful warning

The icy breath from the freezer hits my face as I peer inside, searching for something to salvage

this dinner disaster. But the laughter dies in my throat, a gasp escaping me instead. My eyes widen, and my heart hammers against my rib cage a primal drum of shock and fear. There, beneath a bag of frozen peas I just moved, lies a body-pale, stiff, unmistakably human

“Cleo? Are you there?” Zayn asks, and I snatch up the phone

“Zayn, yeah, Iam-” My voice cracks, but he cuts me off. While I can’t take my eyes off from the horror in front of me

“Hey, I just pulled up. You better not be burning down the kitchen again,” he teases through the phone, his voice a soothing balm that suddenly feels like poison

I can’t speak. I drop the phone; it clatters on the concrete floor, the sound echoing in the hollow

space. My gaze is locked onto the body, onto the familiar features now frosted over. It’s Deacon

My Deacon, who disappeared without a trace, 1s now found in the most horrific place

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imaginable

Why is he here, in Zayn’s basement, frozen and lifeless, hidden in the depths of this

chilling chamber? His once vibrant eyes are now glazed over, his skin a ghostly pallor, besides the blood and bruising that paints his skin. The frozen stiffness of his limbs tells a haunting tale of his final moments, which seemed brutal because of the amount of blood covering his body like frozen icicles

Why is he here?

The realization slams into me, leaving no room for doubt. When I remember Zayn’s callous words over the last couple of months, how he

seemed unfazed by Deacon’s disappearance, sure he didn’t like Deacon, but he did almost seem mocking of it. This was Zayn’s doing. A dark, twisted betrayal disguised by the man who claimed to want to be my mate. He knew all along where he was. He knew and even helped me put up missing posters when his body was here all this time. Zayn’s actions were not only callous, but malicious and deceptive – a deliberate attempt to manipulate me into believing Deacon had run away, despite knowing the truth all

along

My knees buckle, and I collapse beside the phone, my mind racing and my heart splintering. The world tilts and the shadows of the basement seem to close in around me, suffocating, as the truth claws its way through my shattered illusions. When I hear the car outside pulling up, I know I need to get out of here

The weight of my betrayal, the gut-wrenching realization that I had been deceived by the one person I thought I could trust, threatens to consume me

Forcing myself to my feet, tears stream down my face as the full weight of my

foolishness and the magnitude of Zayn’s betrayal hits me. I feel like a puppet, manipulated and used by someone I loved and trusted. My mind swirling with a mix of

anger, grief, and disgust. How could I have been so blind? Lydia was right all along, and I foolishly ignored her warnings. Now those same warnings echo in my mind, haunting me with the truth I had refused to see. The realization that Zayn used me, manipulated me, hits me like a tidal wave, leaving me questioning everything he has ever said or done