Page 16 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

“You seem unusually interested in our staff,” Jace countered smoothly, though his voice carried an undercurrent of threat that everyone at the table could feel. “A new collecting habit, perhaps? I thought you limited yourself to inanimate objects.”

“I appreciate beauty in all its forms,” Michael replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And I’ve always had an eye for… undiscovered talent.”

The double meaning was unmistakable, and it took every ounce of Jace’s considerable self-control not to launch himself across the table.

His vision sharpened, his perception narrowing to predatory focus as his panther surged forward.

The knife in his hand bent slightly under his grip, the metal giving way like warm butter beneath his supernatural strength.

He threatens our claim, his panther snarled. Challenges us for our mate. Show dominance. SHOW STRENGTH.

Madi’s voice cut through the tension with perfect timing. “I understand your foundation recently acquired the Donovan collection, Michael? Such exquisite pieces.”

The conversation shifted to safer ground, though Jace remained hyperaware of Michael’s every glance toward the kitchen doors.

His panther paced restlessly beneath his skin, territorial instincts in overdrive.

The primal part of him wanted nothing more than to drag Eli away from Michael’s predatory gaze, to mark him so thoroughly that no other alpha would dare show interest.

Need to claim mate properly, his panther insisted. Mark him. Scent him. Make others know he’s OURS.

When dessert arrived—an elaborate confection of dark chocolate and berries—Eli returned to help serve. This time, Jace noted the careful distance he maintained from Michael. His mate was perceptive, sensing the tension without understanding its true nature.

Smart mate, his panther approved. Senses danger. Avoids rival.

As Eli placed the dessert before him, Jace deliberately brushed his fingers against Eli’s wrist, a touch that could be dismissed as accidental but sent electricity racing between them.

Eli’s breath caught, his pulse visibly jumping at the base of his throat—a reaction Jace’s enhanced senses caught with perfect clarity.

The brief contact wasn’t enough for his panther, which demanded more, demanded he grab that slender wrist and pull Eli into his lap, demanded he bury his face in that pale neck and inhale their mate’s scent until it was permanently etched in his memory.

“Perfect,” Jace murmured, his voice pitched for Eli’s ears alone. “Like everything else about tonight.”

Those extraordinary eyes met his for a fleeting moment, confusion and attraction warring in their lavender-blue depths. “Careful, Mr. Carmichael,” Eli whispered back, a hint of that morning’s sass returning. “Your dessert might melt if you don’t pay attention to it.”

“Some things are worth the distraction,” Jace countered, letting his gaze linger on Eli’s lips just long enough to make his meaning clear.

The blush deepened, spreading down Eli’s neck beneath his crisp white collar.

He moved away quickly, but not before Jace caught the spike in his scent—winter purity now laced with unmistakable arousal.

His panther purred with satisfaction, a deep rumbling in his chest that he barely managed to disguise as clearing his throat.

He wants us, his beast crowed triumphantly. Responds to us.

Across the table, Michael’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly as he too detected the change in Eli’s scent. The rival alpha’s interest sharpened, his gaze following Eli with new intensity that made Jace’s muscles tense in preparation for conflict.

He smells mate’s desire, his panther snarled. Knows it’s for us. Jealous. THREAT.

“Remarkable dessert,” Michael commented to the table at large, though his eyes remained fixed on Eli. “I’d love to compliment the chef personally.”

“Duncan doesn’t emerge from his kitchen during service,” Madi replied smoothly. “But I’ll be sure to pass along your appreciation.”

“Perhaps another member of the staff could deliver the message,” Michael suggested, his intention transparent to every shifter at the table.

Jace’s vision briefly tunneled, red bleeding into the edges as his panther surged forward with murderous intent.

The fork in his hand bent under his grip, the metal yielding silently to his supernatural strength.

His fangs lengthened behind closed lips, pressing against his gums with painful insistence.

Fucking try it, his panther snarled. Give us a reason. One step toward our mate and we end you.

Before Jace could intervene, Sheena spoke up. “Eli, darling,” she called, drawing everyone’s attention to him as he refilled water glasses. “Tell Michael about your design work. He’s quite the art collector, aren’t you, Michael?”

Eli froze momentarily, clearly unprepared to become the center of attention at a table full of alpha shifters. “I’m just studying graphic design, Ms. Carmichael,” he said modestly. “Nothing worth discussing in such distinguished company.”

“Nonsense,” Sheena continued, ignoring Eli’s obvious discomfort. “He’s brilliantly talented. Creates the most striking visual compositions you’ve ever seen. His use of negative space is particularly innovative.”

Jace’s panther bristled at Sheena drawing attention to their mate, even as his human side recognized her strategy—better to have Eli speak about his work in front of everyone than allow Michael to isolate him.

Still, his beast didn’t like it, didn’t like anything that put their mate in Michael’s direct line of sight.

“Is that so?” Michael asked, his interest clearly piqued as he turned his full attention to Eli. “What kind of design work do you specialize in?”

Jace felt his panther erupt with territorial rage as the Huntington heir’s attention fixed on Eli.

His canines lengthened involuntarily, his vision sharpening as his eyes threatened to shift.

The crystal fork in his hand bent further, nearly snapping under his grip.

Every instinct screamed at him to leap across the table, to pin the Huntington heir to the floor, to tear out his throat for daring to look at his mate with such obvious interest.

Mine, his panther roared, the sound reverberating through his skull with such force it nearly triggered a physical growl. MINE. NOT HIS. NEVER HIS.

Paul shifted in his seat, his usual easygoing demeanor hardening into something more protective. “Eli’s work is still developing,” he said, deliberately drawing Michael’s attention away from Eli. “He’s exploring his own style. Right, David?”

“Absolutely,” David agreed smoothly, though his posture had taken on the subtle alertness of a predator sensing a threat. “It’s important for young artists to find their own voice before seeking outside influence.”

Michael’s smile remained fixed, though his eyes narrowed slightly at the brothers’ intervention. “While I appreciate family support,” he said, his attention returning to Eli with unsettling focus, “I’d be interested to hear from the artist himself. What mediums do you prefer, Eli?”

The deliberate use of Eli’s first name—an unearned familiarity—made Jace’s panther snarl with such violence that he had to disguise it as a cough, reaching for his water glass with a hand that visibly trembled with suppressed rage.

His grip tightened further on his fork, the metal now permanently warped beyond repair.

How dare he, his panther raged. Speak mate’s name like he has the right. Like he knows him. OUR mate. OUR Eli.

Eli glanced briefly toward Jace, a silent communication that sent warmth flooding through his chest despite the tension. That momentary connection, that instinctive seeking of his gaze rather than anyone else’s, was the only thing keeping Jace’s panther from launching across the table.

Looks to us, his beast noted with fierce satisfaction. Seeks us out. Knows who protects him.

“Digital art and branding, mostly,” Eli answered with reluctance, his professional mask firmly in place. “I’m working on building my portfolio.”

“Fascinating,” Michael pressed, ignoring the obvious signals that Eli didn’t want to discuss his work.

“Digital offers such freedom of expression. Do you have a particular aesthetic you’re developing?

I find the most promising young artists have a signature style, even in their early work.

” He leaned forward slightly, his predatory focus unwavering.

“You should send some samples to our foundation,” he suggested, his smile just a touch too warm for Jace’s liking.

“We sponsor several young artists each year. Full scholarships, mentorship programs, exhibition opportunities. I’d be happy to put your name forward for consideration. ”

Jace’s vision briefly washed red with fury. The implication was clear—Michael wanted access to Eli, wanted to create a connection that would give him legitimate reason for contact. His panther recognized the strategy for what it was: a rival attempting to establish a claim on their mate.

Never, his beast snarled. Will kill first. Will destroy him if he tries.

“That’s very kind, but—”

“I’m sure Eli appreciates the offer,” George interrupted smoothly, his tone pleasant but his eyes sharp as he studied Michael. “Though he’s currently focused on completing his degree program. Perhaps once he’s finished, he might consider such opportunities.”

Jace’s respect for his father deepened. The diplomatic response neither committed Eli to anything nor rejected the offer outright—a perfect political maneuver that protected Eli while maintaining the appearance of cooperation.

“I’d be happy to review your work personally,” Michael added, his gaze lingering on Eli’s face in a way that made Jace’s fingers tighten around his fork until the metal finally gave way, bending double with a soft creak. “I have a particular interest in discovering new talent.”