Chained By the Alpha (Cleo and Zayn) novel Chapter 14

• Cleo •

The moment Lydia’s face hits the brick, blood sprays, dark and wet against the wall. Her body crumples like paper, and a broken sound escapes her lips.

“Wha—” she gasps, voice gurgling through blood.

“Never speak of her again,” I growl, my voice no longer human.

I don’t know where it comes from— something inside me has snapped. Rage pours out, blinding and hot. There’s something else—something not me—rising to the surface. An instinct. A beast.

My nails sharpen into claws.

Lydia tries to scramble away, but I’m faster. My hand lashes out, claws raking across her face. Fabric tears. Skin splits. She screams—sharp, panicked—and still I don’t stop. My fists pound down on her as blood pours from her face, her hands useless as she tries to cover it.

“Stop this, Cleo!” one of the guards yells, grabbing me from behind. His arms lock around my waist, dragging me back.

The world snaps back into focus.

Lydia lies sprawled, blood seeping through her fingers. Her sobs fill the hallway.

“Get off me!” I snarl, still shaking with fury.

“Lydia!” Maya’s voice cracks, rushing to her side.

“Look what you did!” Maya shouts, eyes wide with horror.

“Me?” I bark, chest heaving. “She brought this on herself!”

“Enough, Cleo.” The guard’s voice is tight, his grip firm. “Calm down. Or we’ll have to call your father.”

His name hits me like a slap—cold and hard. Everything goes still.

My hands tremble. Claws still extended. Lydia’s blood coats my fingertips. And the weight of what I’ve just done begins to settle in my bones.

I blink, trying to clear the red haze from my vision, and I finally see her—Lydia, crumpled against the wall, her face a mask of blood-red agony.

“You’re going to pay for that, Cleo,” she gasps between sobs, her eyes bright with unshed tears and hatred. Her threat slices through the last wisps of rage within me, leaving a cold, hollow space in its wake realizing what I’ve done.

“Go cry to my father, Lydia. Make sure you tell him what you said, though!” The words call back at her as I keep walking.

Upon reaching safety, I shove the door open and slip through, slamming it shut behind me. The guards, those watchful hawks, remain outside, their presence a reminder of the gilded cage I’m trapped in.

Before I can sigh in relief, a hand clamps over my mouth, silencing the scream that instinctively rises. My elbow shoots back, connecting with a wall of muscle—a familiar firmness that halts my panic. “Gotta do better than that, love,” Zayn’s voice rumbles against my ear, his laughter a low vibration.

“Zayn!” I gasp out his name, spinning in his grasp, my hands splayed against the hard planes of his chest. His gray eyes dance with mischief, a spark of wildness that mirrors the tumultuous storm within me.

“Missed me?” He smirks, the arrogance that so defines Alpha Zayn Holt written all over his infuriatingly handsome face.

“Like a thorn in my side.” Even as I say it, my body betrays me, leaning into his touch, craving the heat of his skin on mine.

“Is that why your heart’s racing? Or just the adrenaline of smacking Lydia about?” He chuckles as his thumb strokes my cheek, wiping away an invisible smear of her blood. “You heard?”

“Someone live streamed it,” he tells me. Great, my father is going to hand me my ass.

I jab a finger toward the door, my pulse racing with a mix of alarm and excitement. “You shouldn’t be here,” I hiss, acutely aware of the danger his presence poses.

“Relax, Cleo.” He closes the distance between us in two easy strides. His smirk widens, and there’s a predatory glint in his eye that both alarms and thrills me. “They won’t hear a thing. And talking was never on the agenda.”

Before I can muster another protest, his hands are cradling my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks with a tenderness that contradicts his brazen nature. Then, he’s leaning down, his lips mere inches from mine, and I’m caught in the gravitational pull of his kiss as his lips brush mine.

My fingers tangle in the fabric of Zayn’s shirt, pulling him closer as our kiss deepens. The world outside—the whispers, the guards, Lydia—dissolves into nothingness. There’s just Zayn and his delicious scent. My hands, driven by a desire that feels bone-deep, slip beneath his shirt, craving the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Easy, love,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice a deep rumble that resonates within me. He takes my wrists gently but firmly, easing my hands out from under his shirt. “Soon.”

I want to protest, to pull him back to me and lose myself in the heat of his embrace, yet the reality of my situation presses in. “You can’t stay here,” I whisper, my words laced with an urgency that mirrors the frantic beating of my heart. My gaze darts to the door, half expecting it to burst open and my world to shatter into chaos.

Zayn’s gray eyes lock onto mine, steady and unshakable. “Let them try to take me away,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile that does dangerous things to my resolve.

“Zayn, this isn’t a joke. If they find you here…”

“Shh,” he soothes, brushing a thumb across my cheek. “They won’t. You worry too much.”

I let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch despite myself. His confidence is infectious, but it’s a fleeting balm. The stakes are too high, the risks too great. Zayn is so close, his scent enveloping me and his hands on my skin.

“Zayn…” I begin, the rest of my warning dies on my lips as he leans in, capturing my mouth once more with an urgency that leaves no room for words. Every part of me screams to push him away, to protect us both from the fallout that would surely follow— however the sire bond, the magnetic pull between us, makes resistance near impossible.

As his hands roam over my body, every touch ignites a fire that threatens to consume me. It’s reckless, it’s dangerous—it’s everything I’ve been warned to avoid. And yet, I don’t want him to stop.

I grab his wrists, trying to pull him away from me. The heat of his skin seeps into mine, urging me to forget everything except the here and now. “Zayn, seriously. If they catch you in here…”

He just laughs, a deep sound that only deepens my desperation, worried my father’s enforcers will hear him. It’s a laugh that knows no fear, no consequence. “What’s your guard gonna do, come submit to me?” His eyes dance with mischief, and I picture the scene.

“Stop joking.” I glance nervously at the door even though I know it’s solidly shut. “No, they catch you, they’ll tell my father.” My voice trembles.

His hands, which moments ago had been mapping the terrain of my body, pause against my ribs. His eyes lock onto mine, the golden flecks in them igniting with something fierce, something defiant. “And I told you, I don’t fear your father, so you shouldn’t, either,” he replies confidently, his thumb tracing the curve of my hip bone.

The words that spill from my lips next come out laced with a cold dread. “He threatened to give my pack to Lydia,” I confess, the fear evident in my voice. The very thought coils in my stomach, making me feel queasy, knowing she would have her filthy paws on my mother’s pack.

“That’s my mother’s pack!” I remind him. Zayn’s expression hardens, the playfulness that danced in his eyes a moment ago now gone. He pulls me closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I know, Cleo. Let him give it to her if he so chooses. You’ll get it back; you only have to challenge her for it.” He lets me go, falling onto my bed.

“By challenging her?”

“See, you’re stressing over nothing. Now, get here,” he commands softly, patting the bed beside him.

“Why are you even here?”

“I missed you. Isn’t it obvious?” he says, pulling me down to straddle his lap.

“It hasn’t even been half a day,” I deadpan.

“And even that is too long,” he chuckles, his lips finding my neck.

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 flickering as he moves over the top of me.

Swift and harsh reality crashes back to both of us when my phone blares its insistent ring, slicing through the haze. Zayn pauses and my head turns to the side where my bag is. I push on his chest, and he growls at the interruption, reluctantly he 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 I am 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,” Zayn 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. I am sick of this tiff between you and Lydia,” Dad growls through the phone, his Alpha tone seeping through the line.

“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 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 push 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, dread coils in my belly.

“I have to, you know this.”

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 is pack business. I have to deal with it. 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.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“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. 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 is filled with unspoken promises and dark warnings.

“See you later,” I say, watching as he climbs out my window. He stops perched on the windowsill and motions me over with one finger. 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.

“It was worth a try,” he chuckles.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” I smirk.

“I can order them to fuck each other if you’d prefer?”

I laugh shaking my head. “Go, before you get me in trouble.”

“You call me if something goes wrong,” he tells me, and I nod. Not that I would; I can’t run to Zayn every time and lately, the amount of times I’ve needed rescuing is becoming embarrassing.

“See you soon,” he pecks my lips before jumping to the ground.

A part of me wants to run after him, to bury myself in his arms and forget everything going on. But obligation and pride anchor me in place. I steel myself for what’s to come, knowing it won’t be pleasant if Lydia is involved.

Seconds tick by like hours as I race around and slip my training gear on. A knock shatters the silence. I grab a bottle of perfume and douse myself in the floral aroma, masking the lingering traces of Zayn’s musky scent that clings to my skin. When I open the door, my guard stands there, nostrils flaring as they take in the heavy notes of jasmine and rose.

“Ready, Cleo?” one of them asks, his gaze probing.

“Let’s get this over with,” I reply, stepping out and locking the door behind me.

The car ride is silent and suffocating. Outside the window, the scenery blurs, my focus sharpens on the growing sense of unease. We arrive at the training grounds, and I see the packs gathered, Bluesteel, Lakeview, Claymore. All here, all training, which isn’t weird except usually today isn’t Claymore pack training day, they usually train with Lakeview just not on the same days as our pack. Lakeview trains daily; so I’m not surprised to see them here.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath, noting Alpha Samuel’s presence. Today isn’t ordinary at all if Lydia has gone running to Daddy.

My father emerges from the crowded stadium grounds, his face contorted in anger. The sight of him, so furious, sends a chill down my spine—not of fear, but frustration.

Climbing out of the car, I shut the door. “Father,” I start, but he’s already upon me.

“Explain yourself, Cleo!” he demands. “Lydia’s got a broken nose, and now Samuel is threatening to cut ties with us!”

I roll my eyes, unable to help myself. “She’ll heal,” I scoff. “Wolves heal faster than their egos.”

“Enough!” He seizes my arm with a grip that has no room for argument, pulling me toward the heart of the training grounds and inside the stadium. “Fix this. Samuel won’t stand for your bullying any longer.”

Bullying? I want to laugh, to rage, to scream. Instead, I grind my teeth and follow, because sometimes being future Alpha means swallowing your pride and facing the music—even if that means forcing a fake apology from my lips for that troll of a stepsister I have.

“Fine,” I say, letting my anger simmer beneath the surface. “I’ll handle it.”

Inside, my mind races, when I realize Claymore Pack isn’t training, they are sitting in the grandstands. As I step onto the training field, I realize this meeting isn’t just about Lydia or our petty squabbles– something else is going on.

And deep down, I know Zayn was right. This feels like a setup, and I’ve walked right into it.

The moment I step onto the training field, the tension is palpable. Lydia stands there, decked out in gear that looks foreign on her—like a lamb donning wolf’s clothing for a masquerade. Her smirk is as out of place as her attire, and it grates on my nerves.

“Training for once, Lydia?”

“Preparing for the inevitable,” she retorts with a smug lift of her chin. “Unlike some.”

Beside her, her father, Alpha Samuel, appears as though a storm is about to break. His eyes are narrow slits, his jaw set in lines of disappointment and barely-contained anger. The air between him and my father crackles with hostility as we come to a stop next to them.

“Your daughter has crossed the line this time, Joseph,” Alpha Samuel growls, his finger jabbing in my direction.

“Lydia provoked her,” my father fires back, his voice rumbling from deep in his chest. “She insulted Cleo’s mother—my ex-wife.”

“Is that true, Lydia?” Samuel turns his sharp gaze onto his daughter.

“Of course not, Father,” Lydia lies through her teeth.

“Ask my new guards,” I retort, refusing to let her deceit slide. “They were there.” I motion to them where they stand leaning against the hip-high fencing that is supposed to protect spectators.

Samuel signals sharply with his hand, and my guards approach, their posture rigid and alert.

“Is what Cleo claims true?” Samuel commands. Under Samuel’s piercing scrutiny, they confirm my account without hesitation.

“Damn it, Lydia!” Samuel explodes, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’m at my wits end with this petty crap between you two!”

From the edge of the gathering crowd, Alpha Dane, who always seems to be around lately eavesdropping, comes forward. “Why not settle it with a fight?” he suggests casually.

“Lydia has a wolf. Cleo does not,” my father scoffs, dismissing the idea immediately.

“Ah, but Cleo has been trained,” Samuel counters, mulling over the suggestion with a gleam of malice in his eyes. “Could be an even match.”

“Even?” I laugh bitterly. “Right, because going teeth and claw against fists is fair.”

“You claim your daughter trained with wolves in training before,” Dane chimes in, his question directed at my father.

“Training is not the same as fighting for real,” I snap before my father can reply. My skin prickles with anticipation and dread. I’ve sparred with wolves before, but a real fight? That’s different altogether. In training they aren’t allowed to bite or rip me apart, it’s all strategic, not combat. I am not stupid enough to believe I would stand a chance against a wolf in a real fight, the rogue attack at the Council meeting was proof of that.

Dane just shrugs, his indifference stoking the fire inside me. “A fight is a fight.”

My father’s face is drawn tight, the weight of his position and the expectations of our pack etched into the furrows of his brow. He’s caught, trapped by his own pride and the pressures around us. I know he’s considering it, the possibility of letting me prove myself—or perhaps letting me be sacrificed to maintain peace and that infuriates me.

“Joseph, think carefully,” Samuel goads him. “This might be the solution we need.”

A solution that smells like a trap, one laid out by Lydia. Now, standing here amid the circling Alphas and their calculating stares, I know the truth.

This isn’t settling a tiff between me and Lydia. It’s Samuel trying to prove my father’s pack is better off in his daughter’s hands and not mine.

The tension in the air crackles like a live wire, every wolf’s gaze locked on the unfolding drama. Alpha Samuel’s voice slices through the thick atmosphere, Alpha Dane’s suggestion hanging heavily between us all.

“Let’s have a duel,” he declares, the words resonating. “A fair fight to submission, not harm. We all stand as witnesses—no death blows, no permanent damage. Let the young Alphas demonstrate their skills through strength and control.”

His eyes bore into mine, challenging, daring me to back down. And then they slide to my father, who stands rigid, caught between fury and the unspoken rules of our society and his need to protect his daughter.

“Joseph,” Samuel taunts with a smirk that sets my teeth on edge, “if Cleo is truly destined to be your successor, let her show her skills. Let her prove her right to lead, not by birth – but by worth.”

My heart thunders in my chest, anger and fear mingling with a fierce desire to wipe that smug look off Samuel’s face. I can feel the weight of my father’s stare, the silent plea for me to agree. Yet something inside me refuses to cower or to show any hint of weakness when regarding Lydia. If it’s a spectacle they want, it’s a spectacle they’ll get. If my father is willing to toss me to them, he can deal with the aftermath and live with the guilt because I know Lydia won’t listen to any rules put out.

“Fine,” I spit out, my voice ringing clear in the sudden hush. “Let’s just get this over with,” I growl.

Whispers ripple through the gathered packs, the scent of excitement and anticipation rising like a storm. While Alpha Greyson from the Lakeview pack seems to edge closer restlessly, his interest is piqued by the promise of a showdown.

“Agreed,” my father finally says, his voice steely. “But we do this our way, monitored closely. It ends at submission, Samuel!”

Alpha Samuel nods, a predatory gleam in his eye as if already savoring victory.

“Prepare the ring,” Samuel commands, and the space before us clears as wolves step back, forming a crude circle in the dirt.

Lydia strides forward with an arrogance that makes my blood boil, her confidence bolstered by Samuel’s conniving. She stares at me with distaste, as if I’m merely an obstacle on her path to power.

“Ready to lose, Cleo?” she sneers, relishing the moment.

I pay her no attention, trying to will myself to step into that ring knowing she’ll shift and rip me to pieces.

The Alphas take their positions around the ring, their sharp eyes missing nothing as my father opens the mindlink.

“No shame in submitting, Cleo, just submit the moment she shifts. Samuel knows this is an unfair fight, and is just being a prick. I will deal with the fallout. I don’t want you hurt.”

I scoff.

“No, if you didn’t want that you wouldn’t have allowed it to get this far. I’m not submitting to this bitch. She’ll have to kill me first.” My father gives me a panic-stricken look and he hesitates at the edge of the makeshift ring created by bodies.

Before he can finish, Alpha Dane interjects, his own frustration clear. “This is unheard of, Zayn. The challenge was meant to settle a dispute, not create a spectacle.”

However Zayn, unflinching, meets their protests calmly, “The law exists for this very reason—to protect those who hold the future of our packs in their hands. I will not stand by while Cleo’s safety and leadership are undermined.”

As if on cue, Alpha Greyson steps up beside Zayn, solidifying the gravity of Zayn’s claim. “I stand with Zayn. This isn’t about spectacle; it’s about upholding the very foundations of our society. He has every right to stand in on her behalf whether she is pack or not.”

“You want to challenge my daughter?” Samuel scoffs.

“Yet it’s okay for you to toss your daughter into a fight with an unshifted Alpha, by all means, Samuel take her place.”

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with Zayn’s challenge.

Panic sets in and I try to intervene, realizing the spiraling consequences of Zayn’s actions. “Zayn, no, please. This isn’t what I—”

“Are you really willing to risk your council title for her?” Dane scoffs from across the makeshift arena.

“Step into the ring and find out,” Zayn challenges, a dangerous glint in his eye.

Dane, fueled by ego and the backing of my father, steps forward, ready to escalate the challenge into a full-blown conflict.

“Dad!” I yell seeing him step in next to Dane but he glares at me. “I told you to end things with him.” my father snarls.

The air is thick with the tension of impending violence.

“Zayn, this is stupid,” I protest, reaching for him, he brushes my hands away.

“No, what’s stupid is you thought I would let you get in this ring,” he counters, his voice low, a storm brewing in his gaze.

“Samuel backs out, too chicken to fight Zayn,” someone murmurs from the crowd, and I feel a surge of hope—maybe this madness will end without bloodshed.

But it’s short-lived. Alpha Dane’s voice cuts through the murmurs like a knife.

“You can’t be stupid enough to challenge two Alphas,” Dane counters, removing his jacket and tossing it to his son. The audacity of his move draws gasps from the onlookers, Zayn just chuckles—a dangerous, thrilling sound.

“Zayn, please, for me, don’t do this.”

Before I can argue further, he grabs me, his lips crash onto mine, a searing kiss that leaves me breathless and disoriented. It’s raw and demanding, a claim, a promise.

“You are exactly why I’m doing this,” he whispers. And then I’m stumbling back, pushed out of the ring by his strong hands.

“Stay out of this, Cleo,” Zayn commands, his silver gaze locking onto mine one last time before he glances at Alpha Greyson. “Grab her, she doesn’t step a foot in this ring,” he tells Greyson and before I can even move, Vance and Greyson grab each of my arms.

Zayn sends me a wink then turns to face the other Alphas.

“Last chance to walk away, boys,” Zayn taunts them, rolling his shoulders in anticipation.

“Like hell,” my father snarls, his eyes on me, filled with a mix of fury and disappointment when the mindlink opens and my father’s voice is in my head.

“You made your bed, chose whose side you’re on, now watch how real Alphas handle their problems.”

“Dad, please,” I beg, tears burning behind my eyes. My heart races, torn between fear for Zayn and the furious desire to jump back into the fray, to stop my father.

I stare at Zayn but he’s focused on Dane and my father, circling him with predatory grace.

“Let them sort it out,” Vance leans down and says when Samuel shrugs off his jacket, tossing it at Lydia clearly sick of being called chicken by the other packs; or maybe because he knows with three of them, they can overthrow Zayn.

“They’ll kill him,” I whimper glancing at Greyson, who has a silly smile on his face.

“There is a reason he is head of the council, love,” My brows furrow.

“Birthright,” I tell him knowing Zayn took that title from his father.

“Yes, but his father had to fight these very same men for that title,” Greyson tells me before his eyes dart to mine. “You forget who took down the Alpha of Alphas in this city,” he nods toward Zayn.

“Decades, my father remained unchallenged, yet Zayn challenged him, and won,” Vance adds in.

I swallow. “Until now.” Zayn glances at me over his shoulder.

“Keep your eyes open, love,” Zayn says, his words meant only for me. “Watch and learn what happens to those who cross me.”

“Zayn, no!” I cry out, Alpha Greyson’s and Vance’s grips tighten on me, it’s too late. I can only watch as the man I’ve fought so hard to resist defends my honor with fists and fury, proving his place among the Alphas.

“You want a challenge? You’ve found it,” Zayn replies, his tone cool – his fists clenched in readiness.

“Let’s see what you’re made of,” Dane taunts, a cocky grin on his face.

Zayn doesn’t waste a second, launching himself at Samuel with lightning speed. The impact reverberates through the room, the sound of fists meeting flesh echoing off the walls.

Samuel stumbles back, recovering quickly as he retaliates with a swift kick. Zayn dodges, his movements fluid and precise.

As they clash, Vance whispers, “It’s not just about strength, it’s about strategy. Zayn knows they can’t all attack at once without possibly hurting each other; he’ll use that to his advantage.”

Despite his words, panic has my blood surging in my veins as I watch. The tension is palpable as blows are exchanged, each strike resonating with power and brute force.

Greyson watches with a knowing smile, his gaze unwavering. “Zayn knows what he’s doing. He’s been in tougher fights than this. His father trained him, have some faith, your man knows what he’s doing.”

Samuel lands a solid punch on Zayn’s jaw, the force of it causing Zayn to stagger back, just as my father attacks him. Zayn senses it, he pivots at the last second, and my father crashes into Samuel. Samuel and my father collide hitting the ground, giving vital minutes for Zayn to correct himself.

Zayn regains his composure, his resolve shining through as he launches into a series of counterattacks. Each hit is precise and calculated, showcasing his skill and experience and showing why he is the Alpha of Alphas of this city, and why he holds the leading council seat.

Dane and Samuel exchange glances, realizing they underestimated their opponent. But it’s too late.

Zayn unleashes a flurry of strikes, his movements a blur of speed and precision. Dane and Samuel are pushed back, struggling to keep up with his relentless assault and Lydia shrieks when her father hits the ground, his head bouncing off it.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Zayn taunts, his voice dripping with confidence.

Samuel, in a fit of rage, shifts, and tackles Zayn. I hold my breath and don’t even realize I’ve tried to run in until Greyson rips me back. Zayn shifts just as Samuel tackles him to the ground, his teeth and claws send blood spraying everywhere and I can’t tell whose it is as they rip into each other violently. Lydia screams, the sound chilling my blood, and my eyes dart to her before she rushes off.

The next second, Samuel is tossed from the ring, and people jump back as his wolf skids across the ground and lands in a heap. Zayn’s wolf Zarek is magnificent, towering over Alpha Dane, who doesn’t bother shifting; instead, he falls belly down on the ground, submitting like a coward.

Zarek stares at him and huffs out a breath, kicking dust at him with his back paws as he turns to face my father. My heart nearly stops in my chest when I see my father’s face contort and he shifts.

“No!” I scream, knowing my father won’t submit to him.

Greyson’s grip on me tightens, an overwhelming panic propels me to twist and sink my teeth into his arm. Startled by my unexpected retaliation, he momentarily loosens his hold, granting me the opportunity to break free.

Yet Vance’s grip is still strong until I punch him in the nuts, cringing with him, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Their wolves circle each other, predators about to fight to the death. The snarls that leave them as they rush at each other makes me panic. In a frenzy, I sprint toward the center of the ring, kicking up plumes of dust in my wake. Despite the haze obscuring my vision, I strain to see through it until it eventually settles, revealing a chilling sight.

I am met with a new horror, two wolves on a collision course right where I stand. I suck in a breath, clenching my eyes shut, when I hear their snarls cut off. Opening my eyes to see my father’s wolf skidding to a stop while Zarek is poised to lunge straight at my face, all teeth and claws. I see the recognition on his face just as I brace, flinching at the contact. His body collides with mine.

A bone-chilling scream escapes my lips as Zarek’s claws tear through the flesh on my arms, leaving a searing trail of agony along my arms. As the world spins and shifts around me, I brace for the impact of the unforgiving ground beneath me. Yet to my astonishment, instead of landing on the hard ground, I find myself cushioned by Zarek’s massive body, softening the blow and sparing me from further harm.

A furious growl tears out of my father, and I gasp to see him still coming after Zayn. Zarek, though, is quick, and I slip off him, landing on my stomach on the ground. I cover my head as they clash above me. Yet no harm comes to me with Zarek above me, almost like he is aware of where I am underneath him and is careful enough not to move, just taking the brunt of my father’s attack. Blood sprays all over me and I can tell it’s a mix of Zayn’s wolf and my father’s.

“No! Stop it!” I yell, loudly before yelling even louder, my throat becoming raw. I scream myself hoarse trying to make them stop.

But it’s to no avail; they keep fighting, growling, and snapping viciously at each other, tearing at one another’s fur and skin and I am unable to move without being trodden on or caught in the middle. I can only cover my ears.

Finally, Zarek throws my father’s wolf down with a growl. I can feel his roar of dominance, his aura crushing as it rings out, every ounce of it in my bones as he bears his fangs and growls deep in his chest, stepping over me as he stalks my father.

My father’s wolf whimpers softly in submission, a whimper I’ve never heard from his powerful wolf before. Zarek doesn’t ease up though, instead he sinks his teeth into my father’s shoulder, not enough to kill him just enough for him to know who the Alpha is here.

I scramble backward, staring in horror as blood pools around them both, Zarek shakes out his fur and my father is forced to shift back to heal. A loud screech from the stadium speakers has everyone clutching their ears. The sound is horrendous as someone sounds an alarm through them. We all peer up to the speakers when the huge screen turns on. Confusion washes over everyone.

“Someone shut that off,” I barely make out before someone screams out. Then the blaring stops and so does my heart in my chest when I see an image of myself. At first, it takes a second for my eyes to focus on what I’m seeing. The image flickers to a more vulgar one. Murmurs break out and I feel the blood drain from my body at the next one, my breasts on display, my skirt hoisted up and my legs wide open.

My eyes dart to my father as he sits up and turns to see what everyone is looking at. Zarek shifts back, giving control to Zayn, who screams at someone to shut it off. Vance and Greyson are already running for the control room – but it’s too late. Everyone can see it, and there is no doubt who it is, my face is clear along with the rest of me.

My father sputters and his eyes dart to me, the shame and confusion I feel makes me throw up. My stomach upturns as I try to figure out where these photos came from. Zayn rushes toward me, grabbing my hair as I throw up on the dirt. The screen cuts out just as I look up to see my father walking out of the stadium. “Dad!” I gasp, trying to get to my feet, but Zayn grabs me.

“Cleo, leave it,” Zayn growls, and I shrug him off, chasing after my father. Before I am even near him, he spins around to face me and I almost run right into him.

The moment he does, his hand connects with my face, and the sting burns right through every inch of me. I blink back tears as my head whips to the side, the next second all hell breaks loose as Zayn attacks my father. His fists rain down on my father with a fury that makes his wolf look calm. My father can only try to block him while I stare stunned, wondering how everything got so out of hand when my eyes fall on Lydia, Vance dragging her from the control room.

Greyson rushes over, grabbing Zayn and ripping him off my father. My father sits up, choking on his blood, before he heals swiftly. Zayn lands on top of Greyson as he is ripped away. My mind is whirling, spinning uncontrollably just like my life is at this moment. The look of disgust on my father’s face speaks louder than his next words. “This! Him! You’d pick him over your pack!” he shakes his head, getting to his feet. I move to stop him, to try to explain what even I don’t understand.

“Cleo!” Zayn calls and I stop, glancing at him to see him shake Greyson off and stand, my father also stops watching me. “Choose, Cleo! Choose. Tell him you choose your pack over him,” my father orders. I am numb, cold as I glance between them.

“I choose neither,” I tell him, stalking toward the exit when my father speaks. “Then you leave me no choice. As Alpha of Shadowcrest pack I stand you down as future Alpha,” my father states.

Clenching my teeth, I blink back tears and turn to face him. If he’s going to banish me, he can do it to my face. My father’s lips tremble but by the hard set of his jaw, I know he’s made up his mind. “I banish you from my pack and declare you a rogue,” he finishes.

“Then so be it.” I gasp as pain slices through me. I almost drop to my knees in front of him, defiance and betrayal burn hotter than the agony I feel as my tether to the pack breaks. I glare at him before leaving the stadium.