Chained By The Alpha Jessica Hall

She looks like a stern governess from a child's nightmare, and I can almost feel her disapproval radiating off of her as she looks at my father for an answer, she doesn't say a thing, but Lydia in her daisy pajamas hasn't got Linda's self-control

"What are you doing here?" she demands, her voice sharp and accusing

"Why are you here?" she demands, voice sharp like a whip

"Lydia," my father growls, his voice resonating with the authority of an Alpha. "Watch your tone. Cleo is here because this 1s her home."

Her lip curled, unsatisfied. "But after everything

"Enough!" My father's snarl cuts through the air

"You're on thin ice already. Don't push me further or pack up and go live with your father at Bluesteel." Lydia's eyes widen in shock at my father's harsh words. She looks like she wants to argue but wisely keeps her mouth shut

I swallow back a mix of emotions, feeling like an outsider in my own home. But I push them aside and focus on the reason why I'm here

Linda goes to no doubt back Lydia, but one growl from Dad shuts her up quicklyContent bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

Lydia quickly glances at Linda, and whatever silent communication passes between them, I don't know, but she stomps upstairs, slamming the door behind her. Linda follows behind her, casting one more disapproving glare over her

shoulder. As soon as the door slams behind them, my father sighs, running a hand through his graying hair

"I'm sorry about that," he mumbles, "You know how they can be."

"Your room is still the same; nothing else has changed, and your stuff still remains untouched," he tells me, and I nod slowly

"Try to rest," my father suggests, his voice softening. "We'll speak more tomorrow."

"Sure." I nod, though sleep is the last thing on my mind. My old room awaits me, preserved in time as if it's a shrine to the girl I once was before everything became so complicated and out of my control. I push open the door wider and I am greeted by a wave of nostalgia so strong it nearly knocks the breath from my

lungs

I sit on the edge of my bed, tracing the patterns on the quilt with my fingers. The fabric still holds faint scents of lavender and pine the same scents that used to lull me to sleep. But tonight, they do nothing to calm the storm raging inside

me

I let out a frustrated sigh and lean back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. Everything is so different now. My room, once my hiding place from Lydia, my safe space, now feels foreign and unfamiliar

As the night stretches on, I find myself unable to sleep. Every tick of the clock is loud and incessant like its ticking down to when the other shoe will drop. I don't know who to trust

I can't stop thinking about Boyd and the

suffocating life that I would have if I accepted this arranged marriage. A life where I would be nothing more than a pawn in a power play between packs. But at least I would be able to take my pack back... Or so I try to remind myself

But deep down, I know that it's not just about reclaiming my pack. It's about my freedom, my autonomy, and my right to choose who I want to spend the rest of my life with

I toss and turn 1n bed, trying to quiet the storm raging inside me

Closing my eyes, I try to push away these thoughts and focus on finding a solution. Maybe there's still a way out of this predicament

Maybe Dad will understand and let me get out of it, and maybe he has changed

But deep down, I know that it's wishful thinking. The moment our families agreed upon this marriage, it became a matter of honor for both packs. To back out now would be seen as a weakness and an insult, and I won't be forgiven for a second time. But how can I marry Boyd, and what will happen if Zayn is, in fact, my mate? I can't ignore a mate bond

I toss and turn in bed, my thoughts still swirling around my head like a never-ending storm

Every time I close my eyes, Iam bombarded with images of Boyd's smug face and the thought of being trapped in an arranged matriage

My phone vibrates again, and this time, I can't ignore it. Zayn's message stares back at me, and something within me shatters

Zayn: Are you okay? Why aren't you

answering? How can I tell him that I'm anything but okay?

I take a deep breath before responding, trying to come up with a way to downplay the situation without lying

Me: I'm back home

The word feels foreign on my fingertips as I type it out. A wave of sadness washes over me as I realize that this is no longer my home. Not really

I switch off the phone before I can receive his response, the weight of the world pressing down on me until I'm gasping for air

As much as I want to run away from all of this, a part of me knows that there's no escaping it

My pack needs me now more than ever,

especially with our recent losses. And if there's any chance of saving them, then I have to play along with this arranged marriage

But what about Zayn? What if he 1s telling the truth about us having a mate bond? Does that mean he senses that something is wrong? Or maybe he does, and that's why he keeps messaging me

Sleep is elusive, a cruel joke played by the universe. Instead, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling and trying to piece together the fractured parts of my heart and the tiny splinters of what I know to be true and what I thought and wished was