Page 64 of Bound by Alphas 1: Bound (The Blood Moon Chronicle #3)
“Isn’t it?” I shot back. “You’ve been treating me like a child since the day I came to live with you. Nothing’s changed. I’m still just your responsibility, your duty, your burden to bear.”
The words tasted like poison, but I couldn’t stop them. Four years of repressed hurt and anger were bubbling to the surface, unstoppable now that the dam had broken.
“Is that what you think?” Cade asked. “That you’re a burden to us?”
“I know what I heard that night,” I said, my voice cracking despite my best efforts. “Duty. Obligation. Fate’s sick joke. I was never what you wanted, just what you got stuck with because of some cosmic prank.”
Something shifted in Cade’s expression—shock, then understanding, then a flash of such raw anger that I instinctively pressed myself further against the headboard.
“You think we don’t want you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “You think we’re doing all this out of obligation?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” I demanded, hating the tremor in my voice. “You’ve never given me any reason to believe otherwise!”
That was it—the final straw that broke Cade’s legendary control. With a growl that was more wolf than human, he lunged forward, his hands gripping my arms as he hauled me up against his chest.
“No reason?” he snarled, his face inches from mine.
“No reason except the fact that we’ve loved you since the moment you came into our lives?
That we’ve respected your choices even when they tore us apart?
That we’ve watched over you from a distance because we couldn’t bear the thought of you being unprotected?
” His mouth crashed down on mine, hot and demanding and punishing all at once.
This wasn’t the controlled kiss from the beach or the careful seduction from four years ago.
This was raw, primal claiming—his tongue forcing my lips apart, invading my mouth with possessive hunger, teeth nipping at my lower lip with barely leashed aggression.
I should have been terrified. Instead, something deep inside me—something I’d spent four years trying to suppress—roared to life, responding to his dominance with a submission that was as instinctive as it was infuriating.
My body remembered this, remembered them, in ways my mind had tried desperately to forget.
I fought against it, against him, my hands pushing at his chest even as my tongue betrayed me, sliding against his in a dance my body hadn’t forgotten. The mate bond flared between us, hot and insistent, burning away my resistance like tissue paper in a flame.
No. I wouldn’t let this happen again. Wouldn’t let biology override my will, wouldn’t let fate dictate my choices.
With a surge of defiance, I bit down on his lower lip—hard enough to taste blood, hard enough to make him jerk back in surprise.
“Get off me,” I hissed, shoving at his chest again. “I’m not your toy to manhandle whenever you feel like it!”
For a moment, I thought he might back off. Then his eyes flashed fully silver, his wolf clearly in control now.
“You want to see manhandling?” he growled, and he had me pinned to the bed, his body a cage of hard muscle above mine. “You want to see what happens when you push an alpha too far? When you run from your mates for four years, leaving them to suffer while you play human in Seattle?”
He captured my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head while his other hand gripped my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You think we don’t want you?” he demanded, his voice rough with emotion. “You think this is just duty? Obligation?”
His mouth claimed mine again, harder this time, more desperate.
I tried to turn my head away, but his grip on my jaw was unrelenting.
The kiss was a conquest, a punishment, a declaration all at once—his tongue plunging deep, claiming every inch of my mouth, leaving me gasping for air when he finally pulled back.
“Get off me, you barbaric alpha!” I gasped, struggling against his iron grip. “This is assault! This is?—”
“This is what happens when you push us too far,” he growled, his free hand moving to the hem of my t-shirt. With a single violent motion, he tore the fabric down the middle, exposing my chest to the cool air of the room.
Not stopping there, his hand moved to my jeans, unbuttoning them with savage efficiency before yanking them down my legs.
My shoes came off in the same brutal movement, caught in the denim as he pulled everything away.
He tore my underwear down next, the fabric ripping under his impatient hands.
In seconds, I was completely naked except for my socks and the tattered remains of my t-shirt hanging from my shoulders. Exposed. Vulnerable.
I should have been scared. Should have been outraged.
Instead, I felt a treacherous heat pooling in my core, my cock already hardening despite my mental protests.
The mate bond hummed between us, amplifying every sensation, every emotion, until I couldn’t tell where my anger ended and my desire began.
“Cade,” I whispered, not sure if I was pleading for him to stop or to continue.
He didn’t seem to care which, his mouth moving to my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there in a way that made me arch despite myself. His hand released my jaw to trail down my chest, fingers finding my nipple and pinching hard enough to make me cry out.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he challenged, his voice rough against my skin. “Tell me you haven’t thought about us every day for four years. Tell me you haven’t ached for our touch the way we’ve ached for yours.”
I couldn’t. The lie wouldn’t come, not with his scent filling my lungs and his hands on my skin and the mate bond singing between us. So I said nothing, which was answer enough.
His mouth moved lower, teeth scraping over my collarbone before his lips closed around my nipple, the wet heat of his tongue making me moan despite my best efforts to stay silent. His hand slid down my stomach, wrapping around my cock with possessive certainty.
“Already hard for me,” he murmured against my skin, satisfaction evident in his tone. “For us.”
The bed dipped beside us, and Logan’s scent filled my senses.
Four years had transformed him. The already formidable middle brother had become something truly intimidating—his muscular frame now bordered on massive, shoulders broader, arms thicker with corded muscle.
His dark-blond hair was still military-short, but new scars marked his skin, telling stories of battles I hadn’t witnessed.
When his hand replaced Cade’s on my wrists, I felt the difference immediately.
His grip was even tighter, the calluses on his palms rougher, the strength in his fingers almost crushing.
This wasn’t the Logan I remembered—this was a warrior honed to lethal perfection.
His sea-green eyes had hardened, the playful glint replaced by something primal and dangerous as he leaned down to claim my mouth.
Unlike Cade’s punishing kiss, Logan’s was pure dominance—demanding and intense, his tongue thrusting into my mouth with the same rhythm his body would claim mine later.
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing teasing—just raw need and four years of pent-up desire.
His free hand gripped my jaw with bruising force, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
“Missed you, little fox,” he growled against my lips, biting down hard enough to make me whimper. The rumble of his voice was deeper, rougher than I remembered, vibrating through my chest like thunder. “Not letting you go again. Ever.”
The possessiveness in his tone sent shivers down my spine.
The middle brother had always been the most physically aggressive, but now there was an edge of controlled violence in his every movement that hadn’t been there before.
Whatever had happened in the four years I’d been gone had turned Logan from merely dangerous to devastatingly lethal.
The dual assault was overwhelming—Cade’s mouth on my chest, his hand stroking my cock with maddening precision, Logan’s kiss stealing my breath and my resistance. The mate bond pulsed between us, stronger than ever, dragging me under like a riptide I couldn’t fight.
I was drowning in sensation, in them, in the feelings I’d spent four years denying.
My body was betraying me, responding to their touches like it had been starved for them—which, in a way, it had been.
My hips bucked up into Cade’s hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of everything they were giving me.
“Look at him,” Logan said to Cade, his voice a dangerous rumble. “His body remembers who he belongs to, even if his mind wants to forget.”
“Always has been ours,” Cade agreed. “Always will be.”
I whimpered, the sound embarrassingly needy even to my own ears. Four years of independence, of building a life on my own terms, and it had taken them less than an hour to reduce me to this—a trembling, wanting mess beneath their hands.
“I hate you,” I gasped, the words lacking any real conviction as my body arched into their touch. “I hate all of this.”
“No, you don’t,” they said in unison, the certainty in their voices more infuriating than any argument could have been.
“Having fun without me?” a familiar voice called from across the room, and my heart skipped a beat.
Keir.
I’d been so lost in Cade and Logan that I hadn’t heard the elevator arrive. He stood just inside the suite, and the sight of him after four years hit me like a physical blow.