Page 25 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

The change in his eyes triggered that same weird response in me—an instinctive desire to show submission that I’d never experienced before meeting the Carmichael cousins.

My chin dipped slightly without my permission, exposing my neck in a gesture that felt both foreign and somehow natural.

I caught myself and straightened, confused by my body’s automatic response.

“See something you like?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before my self-preservation instinct could stop them. Apparently, my survival mechanisms had taken the day off. “Or are you mentally blocking out a scene for your next pretentious art film?”

A water droplet chose that exact moment to slide down my neck in what had to be the most clichéd timing in the history of awkward encounters.

Adrian’s eyes tracked its path with such laser focus that my skin tingled in its wake, like he’d actually touched me with a fingertip.

My next breath got lost somewhere between my lungs and my mouth.

“Both,” he said, his voice dropping to a register so low it practically vibrated through the ground beneath my feet. “You’re exquisite. Like moonlight given human form.”

Exquisite? Me? With my hair plastered to my head like a drowned rat and water dripping everywhere?

This had to be some kind of elaborate prank.

Maybe Jace and Adrian had set this up together— “Let’s see who can make the staff kid blush harder.

” Or maybe I’d hit my head diving into the lake and was currently hallucinating this entire encounter while actually drowning.

“That’s… I…” Words. Failed. Completely. My usual snark abandoned me like rats from a sinking ship. Get it together, Eli. “Right. Well, you mentioned car trouble? Before this gets any more awkward?”

"Ran out of gas about a mile back," Adrian replied, his lips curving into that knowing smile that should come with a warning label. "I may have gotten… distracted by the scenery and completely lost track of everything else."

I turned toward my car, desperate to put some distance between us before I did something stupid like ask him to repeat the moonlight comment so I could record it as my new ringtone.

My legs felt wobbly, like they’d forgotten the basic mechanics of walking.

“Lucky for you, I keep an emergency gas can in my trunk.” The shirt clung to my damp skin with every step, and I could practically feel his gaze burning into me, making me hyperaware of exactly how little coverage the shirt provided.

“Though I’m questioning how lucky I am at the moment. ”

“You don’t consider meeting me lucky?” Adrian asked, following close enough that I could feel heat radiating from his body like a furnace.

“Meeting one of my—” Oh God, I almost said it. I almost said “celebrity crushes” out loud. To Adrian Carmichael’s actual face. “—meeting you, half-naked, while I’m completely naked, in the middle of nowhere? No, I wouldn’t file that under ‘lucky.’ More like ‘cosmic punishment for unknown sins.’”

Adrian stepped closer, his head tilting slightly like a predator assessing prey. “One of your what?”

The air between us thickened to the consistency of honey. “One of my employer’s family members,” I managed, though the heat crawling up my neck probably gave me away like a neon sign flashing LIAR in capital letters. “Which makes this whole situation professionally mortifying.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” His voice dropped lower, wrapping around me like velvet. “Some experiences are meant to be… private.”

My fingers fumbled with the keys, nearly dropping them twice before I managed to open the trunk.

Focus on the gas can, Eli. Not on how his wet pants cling to his thighs like they were painted on.

Not on the water droplets trailing down his chest like they’re in a slow-motion music video.

Not on how his hair falls across his forehead in that artfully messy way that probably takes an hour and three different products to achieve. Just the gas can. Gas. Can.

“Do you practice these lines, or do they just come naturally to you?” I asked, bending to retrieve the gas can and immediately regretting it when I remembered I wore nothing but his shirt. I straightened so quickly I nearly gave myself whiplash.

“Improvisation is my specialty,” Adrian replied from directly behind me.

I spun around, gas can clutched to my chest like a shield, and found myself trapped between Adrian and the car.

When had he gotten so close? And why did he smell so good—like rain-washed forest and expensive cologne?

The whole situation was cosmically unfair.

I probably smelled like lake water and panic.

“Personal space much?” My voice came out embarrassingly breathy, like I’d just run a marathon.

“Sorry.” His smile suggested he was anything but. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

His eyes had changed again—green darkening to amber around the edges, gold flecks catching the sunlight like metallic confetti.

I’d seen that before, when Paul got excited or angry.

Or when Jace had pinned me against the wall this morning.

My life had suddenly become an obstacle course of predatory shifters with boundary issues.

“You move very quietly,” I said, watching those gold flecks spread like wildfire. “Like a panther.”

The moment I said it, Adrian went completely still—predator-still—and something inside me responded to that stillness with a fluttering panic that wasn’t quite fear.

“Method acting.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m playing a cat burglar in my next film.”

Right. And I’m secretly a unicorn. “Well, let’s get you back to your car before your family sends out a search party. I promised Tricia—my mom—I’d be back to help with dinner preparations.”

We started walking, the gas can between us like the world’s most inadequate barrier. Every few steps, our arms brushed, sending sparks across my skin like static electricity. I was pretty sure my nerve endings were staging a full-scale rebellion against my brain’s attempts to remain calm.

“So you’re Tricia and Thomas’ son?” Adrian asked, his eyes lingering on my face in a way that made me feel like I was being memorized. “I didn’t realize they had a son.”

“Adopted,” I clarified, my chin lifting slightly. Nine years of fielding this question had given me plenty of practice. “About nine years ago, when I was twelve. I’ve been living on the estate for five years now.”

“I’ve been away too long,” Adrian admitted. “The family business keeps us scattered.”

“The family business being blockbuster movies and indie critical darlings?” I couldn’t help myself. Something about Adrian made me want to poke at him, see what would happen. My self-preservation instinct was definitely on vacation. Possibly in another country entirely.

His laugh sent warmth cascading through me like hot chocolate on a winter day. “Among other things. The entertainment empire is just the visible part.”

“The visible part as opposed to the secret panther shifter part?” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, watching for his reaction. I don’t know why I was pushing this. Maybe because after the day I’d had, nothing seemed off-limits anymore.

“You know about that?” His surprise seemed genuine, his perfect eyebrows lifting toward his hairline.

“I live with two beta shifters and have been around the Carmichaels for years,” I said with a shrug that made the oversized shirt slip off one shoulder.

I quickly readjusted it, but not before catching Adrian’s gaze tracking the movement like a heat-seeking missile.

“Paul shifts all the time when we’re hanging out.

Says it’s more comfortable. Plus, your eyes were literally glowing gold a minute ago when you were staring at my legs. ”

Something flashed across Adrian’s features at the mention of Paul—something dark and possessive that made my stomach do another Olympic-worthy flip. It looked almost like… jealousy? But that was ridiculous. Why would Adrian Carmichael be jealous of Paul?

“And you’re comfortable with that?” he asked, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “With what we are?”

“Should I not be?” I readjusted the shirt again, though part of me—a part I wasn’t ready to examine too closely—enjoyed his reaction when more skin was revealed. “It’s just part of who you all are. Like having brown hair or being ridiculously attractive. Just another genetic trait.”

“You think I’m ridiculously attractive?” His smile turned predatory, all teeth and intent, like he’d just caught me in a trap of my own making.

“Like you don’t have a mirror.” I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the heat crawling up my neck. “Or social media accounts with millions of followers who tell you that daily.”

“But they’re not you.” His voice softened, something genuine breaking through the practiced charm. “Their opinions matter considerably less.”

“Oh my God.” My face burned hotter than the surface of the sun. “Are you always this—”

My foot caught on an exposed root. The gas can flew from my hand as I pitched forward, certain I was about to face-plant in the dirt. My last coherent thought was that at least I’d die with my dignity intact. Sort of. If you ignored the whole “wearing only a borrowed shirt” thing.

Strong arms caught me with impossible speed. The world tilted, spun, and suddenly we were tumbling down a small embankment. Cold water shocked my skin as we splashed into the shallow edge of the lake.

Adrian twisted mid-fall, taking the brunt of the impact. I landed sprawled across his chest, our faces inches apart. Water lapped around us, soaking us both and making the borrowed shirt cling to me like shrink-wrap.