Page 15 of Bound by Alphas 1: Bound (The Blood Moon Chronicle #3)

Instead of letting Finn take it, Cade stepped forward, holding the shirt open for him to slip his arms into.

The motion brought them chest to chest, close enough that Cade could feel the heat radiating from Finn’s bare skin.

His fox ears twitched nervously, but he didn’t back away as Cade helped him into the shirt, large hands smoothing the fabric over his shoulders.

“It’s enormous,” Finn said, looking down at himself as the sleeves hung past his fingertips and the hem reached mid-thigh. “I look like I’m playing dress-up in my father’s closet.”

The word ‘father’ hit all three alphas like a physical blow, a stark reminder of how Finn saw them—as family, as protectors, as anything but what they truly were. Their wolves snarled in protest, rejecting the very notion.

Cade began buttoning the shirt, his fingers working methodically up from the bottom. The domesticity of the gesture was at odds with the primal hunger coursing through him, his wolf clawing to break free as his knuckles occasionally brushed against the warm skin of Finn’s chest.

“You missed a spot,” he said, desperate for distraction as he gestured to a streak of blue on Finn’s neck.

Before he could reconsider, he was reaching out, using the corner of a clean rag to wipe at the paint.

The proximity was torture—Finn's scent filled his lungs, a mixture of fox, honey, cherry blossoms, and something uniquely him that called to Cade's wolf on the most primal level. This close, he could see the gold flecks in Finn’s amber eyes, the way his pupils dilated as Cade’s fingers brushed his skin.

“I can do it myself,” Finn said, but his voice lacked conviction, and he didn’t pull away.

“You’ll just make it worse,” Cade murmured, focusing intently on the task to keep from doing something he’d regret. “Hold still.”

Finn obeyed, his breathing quickening as Cade’s ministrations brought them closer together.

The shirt gaped open at the collar, revealing the delicate hollow of his throat, the elegant line of his collarbone.

Cade’s fingers brushed against his pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath warm skin.

“There,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “All clean.”

But he didn’t step back. Couldn’t. They stood frozen in a moment of impossible tension, Finn looking up at him with those wide, confused eyes, his fox ears swiveling nervously, his scent broadcasting a mixture of anxiety and something headier, something that made Cade’s wolf howl for release.

Then something shifted in Finn’s expression—confusion giving way to something darker, more primal.

His eyes dropped to Cade’s lips, lingering there as his own parted slightly.

Without seeming aware of his actions, he swayed forward, rising unconsciously onto his tiptoes, closing the already small distance between them.

The air crackled with electricity, the mate bond between them pulsing with need so intense it was almost visible.

Finn’s breathing had grown shallow, his pupils dilated so wide they nearly swallowed the amber-gold of his irises.

His fox ears were fully alert now, angled forward, his tail swishing with nervous anticipation.

Cade remained perfectly still, afraid that the slightest movement would break the spell—or worse, that he wouldn’t be able to stop if he allowed himself to begin. Through their bond, his brothers watched in stunned silence, their own control hanging by the thinnest of threads.

Finn leaned closer still, his eyes fluttering closed, his lips now mere inches from Cade’s. He was practically vibrating with tension, his entire body unconsciously begging for something he didn’t understand, the mate bond driving him toward completion even as his mind remained confused.

It would be so easy. So right. One small movement and Cade could claim those lips, could begin the process of showing Finn exactly what he meant to them, exactly what they could be together.

Instead, with supreme effort that left him physically shaking, Cade tilted his head and pressed his lips to Finn’s forehead in a kiss that was chaste but charged with promise.

He inhaled his scent one last time before forcing himself to step back.

Finn’s eyes flew open, confusion and something that might have been disappointment flashing across his face before he could mask it. He stumbled back slightly, as if waking from a trance, his hand coming up to touch the spot where Cade’s lips had been.

“We should probably go,” Logan said suddenly, his voice strained to breaking. “That meeting with the northern pack representatives.”

“Right,” Keir agreed too quickly, still not turning around fully. “Pack business. Very important. Can’t be late.”

Finn blinked, the spell broken completely now. He wrapped his arms around himself, Cade’s shirt engulfing his smaller frame. “Oh. Yeah. Of course. Alpha stuff. Don’t let me keep you.”

Was that disappointment in his voice? Cade couldn’t be sure, not with his own control hanging by such a tenuous thread.

“We’ll talk more later,” he promised, already backing toward the door.

“Sure.” Finn nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. “Later.”

As they left the studio, all three brothers felt the weight of Finn’s confused gaze on their backs. It took everything they had not to turn around, not to go back and finish what that moment had started.

His scent when you were touching him , Keir observed through their bond as they strode down the hallway, putting distance between themselves and temptation. Did you notice?

Yes , Cade admitted, his internal voice strained. He was aroused.

Confused , Logan corrected, though his own mental presence was chaotic with need. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. What we’re doing to him.

Car. Now. Cade’s mental command brooked no argument. Before we do something we’ll regret .

They barely made it to the north woods before their control shattered. The SUV doors opened before the vehicle had fully stopped, three alphas exiting with barely contained urgency.

Clothes were removed with methodical efficiency, three powerful bodies already changing before the garments touched the ground. The shift was neither elegant nor controlled—it was raw, primal need forcing their wolves to the surface with brutal efficiency.

Where Cade had stood moments before, a massive wolf now surveyed the forest, his fur a rich sun-streaked golden brown that darkened along his spine.

The eldest Sinclair alpha moved with confident, authoritative strides, power contained but never diminished.

His silver eyes gleamed against his golden fur, completing the picture of alpha dominance.

Logan’s transformation yielded a massive russet-red wolf with dark forest-green eyes that burned with barely contained intensity.

His form was the largest of the three, with a powerful chest and broad shoulders built for raw power rather than speed.

His movements were deliberate, territorial, each step placed with tactical precision as befitting his warrior nature.

Keir completed the trio, his wolf form a pale blond, almost platinum in the dappled sunlight.

His form was sleeker than his brothers’, built for incredible bursts of speed rather than sustained power.

His bright-blue eyes, now electric with intensity, surveyed the forest as he paced in tight circles, his movements quick and unpredictable as he struggled to contain the energy coursing through him.

Three wolves tore through the ancient forest, their paws finding paths worn by generations of Sinclair alphas.

Cade’s golden-brown form led the way, sunlight catching in his sun-streaked fur as they raced through dense canopy that had sheltered Sinclairs since they’d first claimed this territory in 1683.

Back then, they’d been fleeing Scotland after the failed uprising, three brothers and their mates following whispered promises of sanctuary in the New World.

Malcolm Sinclair, the eldest, had led his brothers Alasdair and Callum to these shores with little more than determination and the ancient power of their bloodline.

Now, centuries later, the forest recognized their descendants as its own.

Logan’s massive mahogany-red form crashed through the undergrowth, every muscle singing with the primal joy of running these ancestral trails.

Their family had shaped this land since those first days, when Malcolm and his mate Isla established the original Sinclair stronghold deep in these woods.

They’d created alliances with local tribes, establishing their territory through respect and mutual protection.

His wolf felt it in his bones—this was their domain, their legacy, passed down through an unbroken alpha bloodline.

Keir’s pale golden-white shape darted between sunbeams, his sleek form allowing him to race ahead and circle back around his brothers with surprising bursts of speed.

His wolf was still reeling from their encounter with Finn—from the sight of their mate half-naked and painted blue, from the scent of confusion and arousal, from the way he’d stood so still under Cade’s touch.

But here in their ancestral woods, that frustrated desire transformed into something deeper—determination to claim what was rightfully theirs, to complete the bond that had begun the moment Finn had entered their lives.

They moved like living shadows through their territory, passing landmarks only wolf eyes would recognize—the ridge where Robert Sinclair had fought off rival packs during the colonial wars, the valley where Elizabeth Sinclair had established their first treaties with neighboring supernatural communities, the clearing where James Sinclair had built the foundations of their shipping empire in the 1850s.