Page 61 of Bound by Alphas 1: Bound (The Blood Moon Chronicle #3)
“Stronger than ever,” Keir finished. “He’s been hiding from it, but it never faded.”
Through the window, they watched as Finn handed a cup to an elderly woman, his slender artist’s fingers—fingers that had once traced patterns on their skin, that had clutched at their shoulders in passion—now adorned with small calluses and faint stains of paint or ink.
Working hands. Creating hands. Hands they ached to feel again.
“Look at his eyes,” Cade said, breaking his silence as Finn turned toward the window, giving them a clear view of his face. “They’re changing.”
The amber-gold eyes that had always been Finn’s most striking feature now held flecks of something brighter, something that caught the light with an almost supernatural gleam when he moved a certain way. His fox nature, growing stronger despite his efforts to suppress it.
“His powers are manifesting,” Keir said, concern edging his voice. “Elder Wu was right. If we can see it…”
“So can they,” Logan growled, the protective alpha in him surging to the surface. “We should have brought him home months ago.”
The scent hit them even through the closed windows of the SUV—honey and cinnamon and fox, carried on the breeze as someone opened the café door.
Finn’s scent, unchanged in its essence but richer now, more complex, with notes of paint and coffee and something uniquely his.
The scent of their mate, calling to something primal in their souls.
Cade watched as Finn laughed at something his coworker said, the sound carrying faintly through the glass.
The laugh was different—lower, more controlled than the carefree sound he remembered—but it still made his heart constrict with a physical ache.
Four years. Four years of respecting Finn’s choice to leave, of watching from afar, of tamping down the instinct to reclaim what was theirs.
“I’ve been patient long enough,” Cade said, his decision crystallizing into resolve. “Keir, you know what to do.”
Keir nodded, his expression serious despite the excitement Cade could feel humming through their pack bond. “I’ll head to his apartment now. Everything will be packed and ready by the time you get him back to Harborview.”
“And if he resists?” Logan asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
“He’s our mate,” Cade replied simply. “We’re bringing him home.”
As Keir slipped out of the SUV and disappeared down the street, Cade turned his attention back to the café.
Finn was wiping down the espresso machine, his movements economical and practiced.
There was a smudge of something—chocolate, perhaps—on his cheek, and his hair kept falling into his eyes, prompting him to brush it back with an impatient gesture that was achingly familiar.
A female barista—Maya, according to Drew’s reports—said something that made Finn roll his eyes, that familiar sassy expression they’d missed so much. She nodded toward a businessman in the corner, and Finn’s cheeks colored slightly as he shook his head in denial.
Jealousy, hot and unexpected, surged through Cade at the thought of someone else looking at Finn that way, of Finn possibly returning that interest. The mate bond flared in response, and across the street, Finn stiffened suddenly, his hand going to his hip where the pre-marking scar lay hidden.
His eyes darted to the window, scanning the street with a wariness that spoke of prey sensing predator.
“He feels us,” Logan said, satisfaction evident in his tone. “The bond is awakening.”
“It never slept,” Cade corrected, his eyes never leaving Finn as he returned to his tasks, shoulders tense. “He just got better at ignoring it.”
“He’ll run,” Logan warned, anticipation rather than concern coloring his voice.
“Let him,” Cade replied, a predatory smile curving his lips. “I’ve always enjoyed a good chase.”
With that, he opened the car door and stepped out into the Seattle afternoon, straightening his suit jacket with meticulous precision. Four years of patience had come to an end. It was time to bring their mate home.
“I’ll circle around back,” Logan said, his eyes already tracking potential escape routes. “Just in case.”
Cade nodded, his focus entirely on the café door and the mate who waited, unknowing, inside.
Each step across the street felt like coming home and embarking on a hunt simultaneously—the predator in him awakening after too long dormant, the alpha in him already reaching through the mate bond that had stretched thin but was never broken.
As Cade pushed open the café door, Finn’s scent hit him like a physical force—no longer diluted by distance or glass, but rich and immediate, wrapping around him like a welcome home, the bond between them flaring to vibrant life after years of being dampened.
The café fell silent as he entered, human instincts responding to the presence of an apex predator even if their conscious minds couldn’t identify why. Conversations paused, movements stilled, eyes turned toward him before quickly looking away, sensing danger without understanding it.
All except one pair of eyes—amber-gold with those new, strange flecks of light—that locked on his with recognition and something that might have been longing before it was quickly masked by wariness.
Finn stood frozen behind the counter, his slender body tense with flight instinct. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, four years of separation crystallized in a single, charged glance.
Cade took in every detail, committing them to memory—the way Finn’s pulse visibly quickened in the delicate column of his throat, the slight tremble in his artist’s hands, the parting of those lips he’d dreamed about for four long years.
His mate, his Finn, more beautiful than ever despite the wariness in his gaze.
Maya looked between them, confusion clear on her face. “Finn? You know this guy?”
“My brother,” Finn managed, the word making Cade’s wolf snarl in protest. “My very busy, important brother who should be running his company three hours away, not stalking me in Seattle.”
“Family emergency,” Cade said smoothly, never taking his eyes off Finn. “I need to borrow him.”
He infused his tone with just enough alpha command to make Finn’s knees visibly weaken, satisfaction coursing through him as he watched the battle play out on his mate’s face—resistance warring with submission, independence fighting against instinct.
“I’m working,” Finn said, gripping the counter for support. “My shift ends at four.”
“I’ve already spoken with your manager,” Cade replied, having anticipated this resistance. “He was very understanding about the family emergency.”
“Of course he was,” Finn muttered. “Let me guess—you offered to buy the place?”
Cade’s smile turned sharp. “Only if necessary.”
Maya was watching their exchange with open fascination. “Should I be calling security or getting popcorn? I can’t tell if this is a reunion or a kidnapping.”
“Both,” Finn said, untying his apron with shaking fingers. “I’ll get my bag.”
As Finn disappeared into the back room, Cade caught Maya’s curious gaze. She raised an eyebrow, clearly bursting with questions, but something in his expression must have warned her not to ask. She busied herself with wiping down the counter, though her eyes kept darting toward the back room.
Keir, update? Cade prompted as he positioned himself to watch both exits.
Found his art studio. Cade, you need to see this.
An image flashed through their bond—a canvas prominently displayed on an easel in Finn’s apartment.
The painting showed three wolves standing on a moonlit beach, their eyes glowing in the darkness—one silver, one amber, one electric blue.
In the foreground, barely visible, the silhouette of a small fox watching from the shadows.
Something tight and painful twisted in Cade’s chest. He hasn’t forgotten.
He’s been painting us, Keir confirmed. There are dozens of sketches. Studies of hands, eyes, profiles. He’s been drawing us from memory.
The revelation sent a surge of possessive triumph through Cade. Their mate had run, had tried to build a life away from them, but he had never truly left. Not in the ways that mattered.
Through the mate bond, Cade could feel Finn’s panic, his desperate search for escape. He moved to position himself with a clear view of both the front entrance and the hallway leading to the back, knowing exactly what his clever little fox would try.
When Finn bolted for the back exit less than a minute later, Cade allowed himself a small smile.
He’s running, Cade shared his thoughts to Logan through their pack bond. Back exit. Your turn.
Copy that, Logan replied. I’ve got him.
Cade nodded to Maya as he headed for the door. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“He’s going to be pissed,” she called after him, surprising him with her boldness.
“Yes,” Cade agreed, not breaking stride. “But he’ll be safe.”
Outside, he walked unhurriedly toward where the SUV was parked, knowing Logan would intercept Finn before he got far. Their mate was quick and clever, but Logan had been tracking prey far more dangerous than a stubborn fox shifter for most of his life.
Through their bond, he felt the moment Logan caught him—the surge of triumph, the primal satisfaction of capturing their elusive mate.
Got him, Logan confirmed, sending a flash image of Finn struggling in his arms, face flushed with exertion and anger. Corner of 4th and Pine.
Cade smiled, satisfaction coursing through him as he slid into the back seat of the SUV.
He could already feel Finn’s presence drawing closer, the mate bond humming with renewed strength as the distance between them narrowed.
After four years of patience, of watching from afar, of respecting Finn’s need for independence while every instinct screamed to reclaim him—finally, they would bring their mate home.