With his free hand, he reaches to undo his pants, and I can feel his sickening desire creeping over my skin, even through his rough touch. His fingers dance on the edge of my core as I scream internally for Zayn, for anyone to save me from this monstrosity.
All of a sudden, there is a growl so low and guttural it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Boyd stiffens on top of me, and his claws retract – an involuntary response echoed as he turns to see who’s in the room with us.
The pressure on me disappears in an instant as Boyd’s body lurches sideways, crashing onto the floor with a thud that shakes the wooden panels beneath us. Gasping for breath, it takes me a moment to fully realize what has happened.
A silhouette stands above us. Lydia, her chest heaving and her eyes wild with fear and anger. Her hand grips a brass lamp; its base is now dented from the impact against Boyd’s skull. Her lips pull back into a snarl as she swings again at Boyd, who is slowly regaining consciousness. This time, she knocks him out cold.
Lydia stands, breathing heavily, the lamp clutched like a lifeline in her shaking hands. I push myself up on trembling arms, my mind racing as I try to make sense of her actions. She’s the last person I expected to come to my rescue, and confusion clouds my gratitude.
“Why?” I choke out, my voice raspy from fear. “Why would you help me?”
Lydia’s eyes flick over to me. She tosses the lamp aside with a clatter that echoes ominously in the room. “Keep your friends close, Cleo, and your enemies closer, right?”
I frown, still wary. “I don’t believe that’s all there is to it. Why did you really help me, Lydia?” My voice hardens, pressing for the truth I’m sure she’s withholding.
She smirks, a cold, humorless twist of her lips. “I know Zayn will come for you. When he does, make sure he takes out Boyd’s brother, too. I’m not marrying that bastard.” Her voice is laced with venom, and her eyes glint with a mix of anger and desperation.
Her admission sends a chill down my spine, revealing a web of plots and counterplots even I hadn’t fully grasped. “You’d risk everything, just to avoid marriage, too?” I ask, my voice a whisper of disbelief.
Lydia steps closer, her eyes flashing with an intensity that pins me in place. “You think you’re the only one being married off to cement some damn alliance?” Her voice is a hiss. “When my father told me I had to marry that prick to secure my own pack instead of letting me marry my mate and claim my birthright, I told him to get fucked. I was planning on stealing yours, but your father had to make his own deal with the devil, didn’t he? Now we’re both stuck.”
“So Deacon?”
“Yes, Deacon. We had it all planned until I learned of your marriage to Boyd,” she spits.
She kicks at Boyd’s unconscious body with a look of disgust. “I’m not going to be some Claymore bitch.” Lydia’s gaze meets mine, fierce and unyielding. “So when Zayn comes for you—and he will come—remember this moment.”
Her words hang heavy in the air between us, a stark reminder of our shared plight under the manipulations of our fathers.
“Deal?” Lydia extends her hand, not as a friend, but as a co-conspirator in a game neither of us wanted to play.
I hesitate, the gravity of her proposal settling in. Then, with a slow nod, I take her hand. “Deal.”
Her grip is firm as she rips me to my feet. We may not be allies in the truest sense, but in this twisted dance of power at themoment, we have found a common ground for now. That doesn’t mean I have forgotten everything else she has done.
“Now, help me toss his ass off the balcony; they’ll think he’s drunk,” she tells me, and I glance at the door leading to the balcony. I am about to ask how, since it’s locked, when she jingles the keys. “Don’t even ask what I had to do to get these,” she growls.
“Wasn’t gonna,” I say as she unlocks the door, and I grab his feet.
Chapter 33
• Zayn •
The chill of the stone beneath me seeps through my clothes, a cold reminder of the bleak situation I’m in. My head throbs, a steady beat that syncs with the pulsing pain from the wounds inflicted by Alpha Dane’s men. Blood, warm and sticky, trickles down the side of my face, matting my hair. Despite the physical pain, my mind is alert and calculating.
The pain, the blood, it’s all part of the game now. I knew the risks when I let them capture me. My pack, Maya, Vance—they’re all positioned where they need to be, unbeknownst to Dane.
“Not long now. How are you holding up?”Vance’s voice echoes in my head through the mindlink.
“You know, just hanging around, being pummeled by these twits. No rush, brother, by all means, take your time,”I retort.
“Maya was able to get in. She’s accessed Dane’s office. We’ve got what we need,”
The thought of Maya sneaking around Dane’s packhouse brings a grim sort of joy that she got in okay with the catering company. She’s risking a lot, but she’s part of the plan. The data she’s downloading could change everything. It’s proof—proof Clara was coerced, her signature on that damning contracta product of duress, her handwriting shaky because Joseph was forcing her hand.
And then there’s the missing footage—old and grainy but clear enough.
“Zayn, I’ve also dug up some dirt on Alpha Samuel that changes everything. We now know his connection in all of this.”
