Chained By The Alpha Jessica Hall

Something feels wrong; the air is charged with an energy that doesn't belong to playful shrieks or innocent games, and it takes me a second to realize those aren't yells or screams of play

The yelling intensifies, and I rush to the window, my heart pounding a panicked rhythm against my rib cage. The sight that greets me steals the breath from my lungs - it's not kids

It's chaos

"Rogues?" The question dies on my lips as I press my palm against the cool glass, witnessing the onslaught of violence unraveling across Zayn's territory. Members of our pack are scrambling, their forms shifting between human and wolf as they defend against the attackers,

while women and children run behind the packhouse toward the bunkers

"No, no, no," I gasp under my breath, panic threading through each syllable. My gaze darts frantically, searching for Zayn among the flurry of bodies and snapping jaws, but he's nowhere to be seen. How could they have caught us off guard? how could his territory be breached like this again?

"Zayn!" His name escapes as a strangled cry. I need to do something, but what? When I realize the men fighting ours aren't rogues at all. It's Claymore pack, and that is verified when I see the sleek black car pull up in the park in the pack center, and Alpha Dane climbs out, looking around at the carnage. I stumble back from the window, knowing if he is here, it's only for one reason. The realization that I am the target hits me like a physical blow, sending

adrenaline surging through my veins. Instantly, I open the mind link, searching for Zayn's link

Zayn feeling me trying to open the link forces it open further

"Where are you?" he demands, and my brows furrow. Does he already know? Of course, he does, his men must have alerted him

"Packhouse. But Zayn, it is not a rogue attack

It's Alpha Dane." I tell him, ripping my pants up my legs

"Zayn, please, say something," I plead into the

mindlink that connects me to Zayn, praying for a response, for any sign that he's here, that he's coming

"Right here, I'm on my way."

"What should I do?" I ask him, besides the obvious and helping our packNôvelDrama.Org © content.

My fingers claw at the window frame as I watch the pack members fleeing towards the bunkers designed for such attacks, while our men try to hold them off. But their eyes...their eyes keep darting back to me, full of a message I wish I could ignore

"Alpha Dane won't risk hurting our pack; it will be bad for the media. But you need to run, Cleo," Zayn says. "Before it's too late."

"What?" I blurt stupidly. "But your people." I snap at him

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"Can handle themselves. I can hear my men

They aren't hurt. Alpha Dane is searching for something, not using lethal force, but he has sedatives." Zayn replies

"They aren't here to kill, Cleo. They're after you

I need you to fucking run."

And deep down, I know he's right. I have to move now. With one last look at the carnage below, I tear myself away from the window, my

mind racing with plans of escape. But where the fuck do I go?

A thunderous crash inside jolts me into action

They're inside. Alpha Dane's warriors, no doubt

"Zayn, Where are you?" My mind reaches out again, straining against the distance

"Stay safe, Cleo. I'm coming." His voice is a lifeline in my head, Zarek's presence a flicker of silver in my mind's eye. But I can sense the distance through the bond-he's too far

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I sidestep just as the door bursts open, splinters flying like wooden rain. A hulking figure stands silhouetted against the light-a warrior of the Claymore pack. His eyes lock onto mine, filled

with a dark intent that chills me to the bone

"Alpha Dane says you need to come with me," he sneers, advancing with a confidence that belies his ignorance

"Tell him to go fuck himself," I retort, moving to snatch up the fire poker. Brandishing it like a weapon with hands that don't tremble-not even a little. My father didn't raise a coward. I guess I can thank him for that at the very least

We clash, and the room is a blur of movement and metallic clangs and claws. The poker hits him in the shoulder, and he growls, a snarl tearing out of him viciously. Only the next time I swing it, he grabs it, ripping it from my grasp

Through the window, I catch glimpses of my pack mates disappearing into the safety of bunkers, their forms blurs of motion against the backdrop of chaos

"Your father is on his way. He left before me

He should be there any moment." Zayn yells through the mindlink, momentarily distracting me as I try to keep distance between me and this asshole