Page 19 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

“Stop,” Eli groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You’re the worst. I don’t have your face on my shower curtain.”

The sight of those slender fingers splayed across that perfect face made Jace’s panther rumble with appreciation.

Everything about Eli fascinated the beast—the graceful movement of his hands, the elegant line of his throat, the way his pulse visibly fluttered beneath that alabaster skin.

His enhanced vision caught details no human could perceive—the nearly invisible freckle beneath Eli’s left ear, the way his lashes cast feathery shadows on his cheeks, the exact pattern of his quickened breathing.

“But you’re not denying you have my poster collection,” Jace said, enjoying Eli’s discomfort far too much. His panther was practically strutting beneath his skin, preening at the evidence that their mate had admired them from afar.

Already drawn to us, it purred. Already wanted us before knowing. Perfect mate. OURS.

Eli lowered his hands to glare at him, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his blush. “You know, most celebrities would be a little more humble.”

“I’m not most celebrities,” Jace countered, holding Eli’s gaze a moment longer than necessary, his voice dropping to an intimate register. “And you’re not most fans.”

The air between them shifted, charged with something that went beyond casual teasing.

Eli’s pulse visibly quickened at the base of his throat, his scent spiking with that sweet-sharp note of attraction that made Jace’s panther strain toward him.

The beast wanted to lean forward, to press its nose against that fluttering pulse point, to inhale deeply and then mark the spot with teeth and tongue until everyone would know who Eli belonged to.

Want to taste, his panther urged. Want to mark. Want to claim.

Tricia cleared her throat pointedly. “Eli, why don’t you take your dessert outside? I need to finish cleaning up properly.”

Jace’s enhanced senses caught the protective note in Tricia’s voice, the subtle shift in her scent that signaled maternal concern.

She might not understand the full nature of what was happening between them, but her instincts were alerting her to the predatory interest Jace was directing at her son.

She senses our intent, his panther realized. Protects what she considers hers.

“Subtle, Mom,” Eli muttered, but he gathered his plate. “Fine. I’ll take my celebrity worship elsewhere.”

“I’ll join you,” Jace said, picking up his own plate before Tricia could object. To her, he added with a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry. I promise not to let his teasing wound my fragile Hollywood ego.”

His panther practically purred with triumph at the opportunity for private time with their mate. Away from prying eyes, away from the Huntingtons’ scrutiny, away from family interruptions—just the two of them under the stars.

Perfect, it growled with satisfaction. Alone with mate. Chance to strengthen bond.

This seemed to ease Tricia’s anxiety somewhat, though she still looked relieved when Jace guided Eli toward the French doors leading to the back porch.

Her maternal instincts were strong, but she clearly trusted Jace not to hurt her son.

If only she knew the true nature of his interest—not to harm but to claim, not to use but to possess completely.

The night was pleasantly cool, stars scattered across the clear sky like diamond dust. The porch lights cast a warm glow over the comfortable seating area where Eli settled into a cushioned chair, balancing his plate on his lap.

Away from the kitchen’s artificial lighting, his platinum hair seemed to capture and reflect the moonlight, giving him an ethereal quality that made Jace’s breath catch.

Beautiful, his panther murmured, momentarily subdued by the sight. Otherworldly. Perfect mate.

“You know, social media has you all wrong,” Eli said once they were alone.

“How so?” Jace asked, curious about how his mate perceived him. His panther leaned forward, eager to hear Eli’s impression, to understand how he appeared through his mate’s eyes.

“They paint you as this ultra-charming extrovert who’s friends with everyone,” Eli explained, gesturing with his fork. “But you’re actually kind of reserved, aren’t you? Careful about who you let in.”

The observation was startlingly accurate, cutting through years of carefully constructed public persona with effortless precision.

Jace’s panther perked up, practically vibrating with excitement at this evidence of their mate’s perceptiveness.

This was what mate recognition meant—seeing past facades to the true nature beneath.

He sees us, his beast crowed triumphantly. Really SEES us. Perfect mate.

“That’s… perceptive,” Jace admitted, studying Eli with new interest. His panther preened at the recognition, proud that their mate could distinguish between the public mask and the private reality.

“I’m good at reading people.” Eli shrugged, though his eyes held a hint of pride at the compliment. “Comes from growing up around predators. You learn to spot the difference between the public mask and what’s underneath.”

The casual reference to “predators” sent a shiver down Jace’s spine. Did Eli understand more about their nature than he let on? His panther stirred with curiosity, wondering just how much their mate had intuited about the supernatural world he’d grown up in.

“And what do you see underneath my mask?” Jace asked, leaning forward slightly, drawn by an instinct deeper than thought. His panther held its breath, waiting for the answer with uncharacteristic patience.

Eli’s eyes met his, unexpectedly bold. “Someone who’s tired of performing. Someone who’d rather be real, even if it means showing the dangerous parts.”

The accuracy of the assessment sent a shiver down Jace’s spine.

No one—not his co-stars, not his directors, not even his family—had ever articulated that fundamental truth about him so precisely.

His panther surged forward with such force that he had to grip the arms of his chair to keep from reaching for Eli, from pulling him close and claiming that perceptive mouth with his own.

MATE, his beast roared with absolute certainty. True mate. Soul mate. OURS.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice roughened by his panther’s influence. “The dangerous parts aren’t for everyone.”

“Maybe I’m not everyone,” Eli countered, then immediately looked surprised at his own boldness.

The response sent heat racing through Jace’s veins, his panther practically howling with triumph. His mate wasn’t afraid of his darkness, wasn’t intimidated by the predator beneath the polish. The beast recognized this as the most profound form of acceptance—Eli saw the monster and wasn’t running.

Jace leaned forward, drawn by an instinct deeper than thought. “No,” he agreed, his voice rough with restraint. “You’re definitely not everyone, Eli Harper.”

The moment stretched between them, taut with possibility.

Eli’s scent shifted, winter purity now laced with unmistakable desire.

His pulse fluttered visibly at the base of his throat, his breathing shallow and quick.

Jace’s panther urged him forward, demanded he close the distance, claim those parted lips, mark what was theirs.

Take him now, his beast insisted. He wants us. Claim him. OURS.

Every muscle in Jace’s body tensed with the effort of restraint.

His enhanced senses were overwhelmed with Eli—the quickened rhythm of his breathing, the sweet-sharp spike in his scent, the slight dilation of his pupils as they fixed on Jace’s lips.

The invitation was clear, whether Eli realized it or not.

His body was responding to the mate bond even if his mind didn’t understand it yet.

Jace leaned closer, drawn by an instinct older than civilization. His panther purred with anticipation, already tasting the kiss that would begin their claiming. Just a few more inches and—

“Baby brother!” Paul’s boisterous voice shattered the moment as he burst through the French doors. “There you are!”

NO! his panther snarled with such fury that Jace had to disguise a growl as a cough. Bad timing. WORST timing. Interfering packmate!

Jace watched with barely concealed irritation as his younger brother slung an arm around Eli’s shoulders, completely oblivious to the conversation he’d interrupted.

His panther bristled at the casual physical contact, territorial instincts flaring at the sight of another male—even his brother—touching their mate.

Remove his arm, his beast growled. Not his to touch. OURS.

“I was looking everywhere for you,” Paul continued, giving Eli’s shoulder a squeeze that made Jace’s teeth clench with suppressed territorial rage. “David’s setting up the racing game, and we need our reigning champion to defend his title.”

“I’m eating, Paul,” Eli pointed out, though he seemed resigned rather than annoyed by the interruption.

“Eat faster,” Paul urged, then seemed to notice Jace’s presence for the first time. “Oh, hey, Jace. Didn’t see you there. You want in on the game night?”

Didn’t see us? his panther snarled indignantly. How did he not see us? We’re RIGHT HERE.

“I was actually in the middle of a conversation,” Jace replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance. His voice emerged with a dangerous edge that would have warned any alpha, but Paul—a beta with the self-preservation instincts of a lemming—remained oblivious.

Paul appeared completely unfazed. “You can talk anytime. Game night with Eli is a sacred tradition.” He turned back to Eli. “Man, I miss driving you to school every day. Senior year was the best—remember how we’d stop for those disgusting energy drinks you love?”

“They’re not disgusting, they’re efficient,” Eli protested. “And yes, I remember how you’d lecture me about music theory the entire drive.”

“Someone had to educate you properly,” Paul insisted. “Your taste was tragic before I intervened.”