Page 33 of Bound by Alphas 1: Bound (The Blood Moon Chronicle #3)

Something warm bloomed in my chest at his words.

I retreated inside before they could spot me, not wanting to intrude on the moment.

As I settled back into my blanket nest, I tried to make sense of what I’d just witnessed.

The brothers had united to protect me—not just from physical harm, but from the social humiliation of facing my would-be drowners again.

It was… confusing. Touching. Terrifying.

Because it made it that much harder to keep pretending I didn’t care about them.

That I didn’t want to belong here. That I didn’t feel something complicated and frightening whenever Cade looked at me with those intense blue eyes, or when Logan’s hand brushed mine, or when Keir smiled at me like I was something precious.

I buried my face in Mochi’s fur, trying to hide from thoughts I wasn’t ready to face.

The sound of voices and laughter drifted through the open windows, jarringly normal after the confrontation I’d just witnessed.

I quickly rearranged myself in my blanket nest, aiming for “casually lounging” rather than “hiding from emotional revelations.” Pixel gave me a look that clearly said I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Shut up,” I muttered to her. “You try looking casual with fox ears.”

Drew burst through the front door with Jake and Tyler, their earlier fierce protectiveness transformed into excited chatter about the festival. I busied myself with my phone, pretending I hadn’t just watched my usually peaceful brother threaten to rip someone’s throat out on my behalf.

“Finn!” Drew’s face lit up when he spotted me, concern barely hidden beneath his smile. “You’re looking… less damp.”

“Amazing what a hot bath and Elena’s hot chocolate can do for near drowning,” I replied dryly. “Though the ears are proving stubborn.” I flicked one of my still-visible fox ears in demonstration, trying not to wince at how it twitched involuntarily.

Drew dropped onto the couch beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. The gesture was so naturally protective it made my throat tight. “You sure you don’t want to come tonight? The Howling Moons are playing, and I heard they’re bringing their full light show.”

“Hard pass,” I muttered, burrowing deeper into my blanket nest. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m still sporting some rather conspicuous accessories. Unless you want me starting a new fashion trend: ‘Supernatural Chic: When Your Inner Fox Won’t Stay Inner.’”

“You could wear a beanie,” Tyler suggested, sprawling across one of the armchairs.

I raised an eyebrow. “In summer? Because that wouldn’t look suspicious at all. ‘No, Officer, I’m not hiding anything under this wool hat in this blazing heat. I’m just making a bold fashion statement.’”

“Point taken,” Drew conceded with a laugh that didn’t quite hide his concern. “But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” I assured him, ignoring the small part of me that actually wanted to go.

To be normal, to hang out with my brother and his friends like we used to, before mate bonds and fox features complicated everything.

“Go, have fun, pretend this day never happened. I’ll be fine here with my blanket fortress and judgmental pets. ”

Pixel’s one-eyed stare seemed to agree with this assessment.

“You sure?” Drew pressed, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “Because I can stay. We could have a gaming marathon. I’ll even let you win.”

“Let me win?” I scoffed, the familiar banter helping me feel more like myself. “I seem to recall thoroughly destroying you last time without any charitable assistance.”

Jake and Tyler exchanged amused glances, clearly used to our sibling dynamics. But there was something else in their expressions now—a new awareness after witnessing Drew’s fierce defense of me earlier.

“Go,” I said firmly, pushing away the complicated emotions that threatened to surface. “I’m just going to nap anyway. Nearly drowning is apparently exhausting. Who knew?”

Drew winced at my attempt at humor. “Finn…”

“I’m fine,” I cut him off, softening the words with a small smile. “Really. Go be a normal college kid. I’ve got three overprotective alphas and Elena’s cooking to keep me company. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Drew warned, but he was smiling as he stood. “Text me if you need anything?”

“Yes, mom.”

After they left for the festival around four, the house fell into an unusual quiet.

The brothers had disappeared to wherever alpha werewolves went to plot world domination or practice their brooding stares.

Even Elena’s usual kitchen bustling had ceased, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my still-visible fox features.

I drifted up to my room, exhaustion finally outweighing my determination to prove I was fine. The events of the day swirled in my mind—the lake, the confrontation, Drew’s fierce protection, the way the brothers had united to defend me. It was too much to process.

I meant to just close my eyes for a few minutes, but when I opened them again, the late afternoon sun was casting shadows across my floor. My fox ears twitched at the silence—no sounds of Drew’s gaming, no Elena puttering in the kitchen, no brothers having silent conversations that excluded me.

The restlessness hit suddenly, an itch under my skin that made lying still impossible. My fox nature, usually content to lurk beneath the surface, seemed to pulse with unused energy. The walls of my room felt too close, too confining.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I was heading down to the beach, drawn by the sound of waves and the promise of solitude.

I should have known better than to expect anything to go as planned today.

The first moment I saw Cade in the water, I knew I was screwed. Not literally—though my traitorous mind definitely went there—but in that cosmic “the universe is laughing at me” kind of way.

He cut through the waves with powerful strokes, each movement showcasing muscles that would make Michelangelo weep.

Water sluiced down his body as he emerged from the surf, looking like some ancient sea god who’d decided to grace mere mortals with his presence.

Because apparently, the universe hadn’t tortured me enough today.

My traitorous fox tail swished behind me with interest, completely beyond my control and utterly betraying my attempt at nonchalance.

My fingers itched for my sketchbook. The way the setting sun painted gold across his wet skin, the play of shadows in the hollows of his collarbones, the way water droplets traced paths down his chest that I desperately wanted to follow—with charcoal on paper, obviously.

Not my tongue. Definitely not my tongue.

Get it together, Finn.

I should leave. I should definitely leave.

My fox, however, had other ideas. It practically purred as Cade spotted me, those intense blue eyes locking on mine with predatory focus.

My ears twitched forward in interest—a mortifying tell I couldn’t control.

Each step he took toward me sent little shock waves through our mate bond—a connection I’d been steadfastly ignoring since the Augury.

“You should be resting,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with the ocean breeze.

“I was,” I replied, trying desperately to keep my eyes on his face and not the way water dripped from his hair onto those shoulders that really should be classified as lethal weapons.

“Got restless. Thought I’d…” Watch you emerge from the ocean like some kind of wet dream come to life? “…get some air.”

I moved closer without conscious decision, drawn like a moth to a flame. My artist’s brain kicked in—a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of professional distance. My hand lifted of its own accord, fingers tracing the curve of his chest.

“You’re like a sculpture,” I murmured, letting my analytical side override the part of me that wanted to climb him like a tree.

“The way the light hits here—” I traced a water droplet’s path down his pectoral, pretending my hand wasn’t shaking.

“—and the shadows here. I’d need oils to capture it properly. Maybe charcoal for the darker tones…”

Cade’s breath hitched, muscles tensing under my exploring touch. The mate bond between us flared hot and bright, making it hard to remember why this was a terrible idea.

“Finn,” he warned, his voice dropping to that register that made my knees weak and my fox want to roll over and present its belly. My tail curled forward, wrapping around his leg of its own accord. Not helpful, fox. Not helpful at all.

I should stop. I should definitely stop. Instead, I continued my artistic “assessment,” fingers mapping the ridges of his abs like I was studying anatomy for figure drawing and not basically feeling up my adoptive brother on a beach.

“The composition is perfect,” I babbled, trying to maintain some pretense of professional interest. “Classical, really. Like something out of a Renaissance study of ideal male form, though they never quite captured this level of?—”

“Are you critiquing my muscles or seducing me?” Cade interrupted, amusement coloring his tone despite the tension thrumming between us.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Critiquing. Obviously. This is purely professional artistic interest. I’m simply appreciating the aesthetic value of?—”

“Obviously,” he echoed, stepping closer until I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.

Water dripped from his hair onto my upturned face, and oh God, he smelled like ocean and alpha and something uniquely Cade that made my fox whimper.

“And if I were to kiss you right now? Would that be purely professional too?”

My heart stuttered in my chest, and for once, my usual snark abandoned me completely. “I… that would be…”

“If you don’t want this,” Cade murmured, face inches from mine, “say so now. Otherwise, I’m going to kiss you until you forget how to breathe.”