Chained By The Alpha Jessica Hall

"He's not dry humping her. They're friends," I tell him, and he laughs

"That's debatable with the way he has his hands all over her," he says, shaking his head

"Like you know anything, they've been friends since they were kids."

"With benefits by the look of it."

I growl at him, now he is deliberately trying to get under my skin

"Just stop, I've put up with enough drama today

I don't need you getting in my head trying to

cause more."

"Right, I'll leave you alone. You're right, I don't know the little worm well," he says, setting his glass on the table beside me

I peer up at him, towering over me when he leans down, so close I can smell the whiskey on his breath. "But just for the record, I wouldn't be able to get in your head unless you suspected they were fooling around already."

"They're just friends," I repeat, my voice a growl

"You keep saying that, but if it is true, why has he left you here while he dances with her?" he asks, and his words sting

His words are true. When I complained about my leg, he didn't bat an eyelash in my direction, Just waved me away

"Something to think about, Cleo. But you can do better. He isn't worth your time."

"Then who is? You?" I scoff and he shrugs

"Well, if you were mine, I wouldn't be caught dead with another woman, let alone have my hands all over one," he whispers. I swallow, and he smirks before standing back up, and I find Deacon staring in our direction. Suddenly, a bouncer taps Zayn on the shouldersBelongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

"Alpha, a fight has broken out upstairs."

"Shit, show me," Zayn says, following him, I shake my head, turning my attention back to the dance floor where I notice Lydia is gone and Deacon is making his way over to me

"What did he want?" he asks, and I shrug

"Wanna get out of here?" I ask him

"Lydia just went to get us all more drinks." I huff

"What's wrong?" he asks. I point to my leg

"An hour more than we'll go," he says, and I

shoot him a dirty look. "Promise," he tells me when Lydia hands me a drink. I shake my head

"Come on, don't be a party pooper," she whines

"I have to drive," I remind her, and she shrugs

"Catch a taxi; I can run you back in tomorrow to get your car," she tells me, holding out the blue-

colored drink. Reluctantly, I accept it, sipping it when Amber comes over

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"Deacon, come dance with me!" she whines, giving him pouty lips. She tugs on his arm, and I raise an eyebrow at him. He mouths sorry and lets her pull him back toward the dance floor

"One hour, Deacon!" I yell out over the music

He blows me a kiss, holding up one finger, indicating an hour

For the next hour, I tried to lose myself in the pulsing beats and flashing lights, but I can't shake the feeling of Zayn's gaze on me

Gradually, I begin to feel strange. Something is definitely wrong. I get up and make my way toward the bar to ask for some water. My face 1s tingling, and I hear my words slur when I speak

The lady at the bar grabs my arm as I sway on my feet, and my surroundings blur. "I'm fine

That drink was stronger than I thought," I say, shaking her hand off. I have to get out of here. I

turn and look for Deacon

Yet, the mish-mash of bodies on the dance floor blurs around me, the music dims as my hearing moves in out from loud to soft. My head feels heavy, my tongue thick, my limbs not wanting to cooperate

"Deac", I don't feel so good," I mumble, clutching his arm for balance when I find him

"Can you take me home?"

"Sure thing, Cleo. Let's get you out of here," he says, leading me through the throng of sweaty bodies

The world spins around me as Deacon guides me to his car, parked next to mine

"No, you've been drinking," I tell him

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"Ring my father," I tell him, willing to take his wrath then wrap ourselves around a pole or kill someone

"Actually, just let me lay down for a bit," I tell him, my legs feeling like lead weights

"Want to lay down in the back until your father gets here? Your car's too small for that," he suggests, opening the hatch. Grateful for the offer, I nod weakly, letting him help me into the trunk. As soon as I lay down, my body feels impossibly heavy and unresponsive

"Deacon, I can't feel my body," I try to say, but the words come out garbled and distorted as panic creeps in. Instead of offering comfort, Deacon climbs in beside me, closing the hatch and plunging us into darkness "You're alright," he murmurs, brushing my hair

back from my face. His touch should have been reassuring, but it only heightened my unease

"Did you call my Dad?" I ask him, my eyes flutter closed, and he says something, but my hearing is funny

He leans down and presses his lips against mine, ignoring my feeble attempt to turn away

"Deacon, did you call..." My words are cut off by him gripping my chin forcefully, he invades my mouth with his tongue, his kisses growing more eager and desperate

"Deacon, what are... no," I slur, my words nothing but a garbled mess as I try to push him off me, but my arms feel limp and useless

Ignoring my protests, he lifts my butt up and rips down my leggings and tears open my cami, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. My mind

races, searching for an escape, but my body refuses to obey