Page 38 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)
CARMICHAEL COUSINS
Rain hammered Cole’s windshield as his BMW cut through the storm, headlights barely slicing through the wall of water ahead. The car responded to his touch like an extension of himself—precise, controlled, deadly when necessary. But even German engineering had limits.
His panther prowled beneath his skin, restless as hell despite the mind-numbing drive. The beast had been pacing since they’d landed in Seattle, muscles coiled like it was ready to pounce on something just out of reach.
Something coming, it growled, claws scraping his insides. Something important. Something OURS.
Three security alerts had blown up his phone in the last hour. All from the northern boundary. Movement where there shouldn’t be any, sensors triggered in sequence, thermal signatures that appeared and vanished too fast for proper ID. Most people would blame tech glitches on the storm.
Cole knew better. Something was testing their territory with methodical precision that screamed intelligence, not chance.
Where are you? Jace’s voice cut through their pack bond, wound tight with an energy Cole hadn’t felt from his cousin in years.
Still on the access road, Cole replied, squinting through what had become a waterfall. This storm’s worse than predicted. Almost like it’s being directed.
Take the east entrance, Adrian suggested, joining their conversation with forced casualness that immediately set Cole’s instincts on high alert. More sheltered from the wind.
His GPS flickered, then died completely. The screen dissolved into electronic static. “Perfect.” Cole tapped the useless device as his panther snarled in frustration.
My tech just died, he told his cousins. Phone’s nearly dead too.
The silence that followed wasn’t their usual comfortable quiet. It felt loaded, heavy with secrets that made Cole’s panther pace faster, hackles rising.
Stay on the main road, Adrian’s voice carried an edge Cole had rarely heard from his artistic cousin. Don’t take any side paths.
Cole’s panther went on full alert. In fifteen years of pack bonding, he’d never heard that particular tone from Adrian—warning mixed with something that sounded like guilt.
Why not? he pressed.
Another pause. Heavy with whatever they were hiding.
Just get here, Jace finally said, trying too hard to sound casual. We have… family matters to discuss.
The forced tone sent Cole’s panther into overdrive. His cousins were hiding something big. Something that had their beasts on edge.
I’ll get there when I get there.
He pulled over, waiting for a violent gust to pass.
Through the rain-streaked window, he spotted Ravenswood Harbor Café, its lights cutting through the gloom.
Coffee sounded damn good right now, especially before dealing with whatever his cousins were hiding.
His panther agreed—always better to face potential conflicts with all senses sharp.
Cole yanked the wheel, the BMW hugging wet asphalt like it was designed for it. He killed the engine in the half-empty lot. The storm had scared off the usual Friday crowd—only the desperate or determined had ventured out.
He grabbed his cashmere overcoat and made a dash for the entrance, rain soaking through his expensive suit in seconds. Weather—the one variable he’d never managed to control, despite his technological empire. His panther hated wet fur, even metaphorical wet fur.
The café’s warmth wrapped around him, rich with coffee and fresh pastries. Soft jazz played in the background—authentic without being pretentious, quality without showing off. Cole shook water from his hair, scanning the room in a single sweep. Exits. Occupants. Threats.
His gaze snagged on a familiar figure at the counter—Michael Huntington, heir to the neighboring territory. Cole’s panther tensed immediately, recognizing a potential rival before his human brain caught up.
Beside Michael stood a slender young man with platinum-blond hair who looked one eye roll away from homicide. The set of his shoulders, the precise angle of his chin—controlled irritation masking something deeper. Something that captured Cole’s attention completely.
“—just one coffee,” Michael was saying, leaning into the blonde’s space with entitled confidence. “After all, we’re practically neighbors.”
The young man checked an imaginary watch with perfect timing. “Wow, is it already time for me to not care? How fascinating.”
Cole’s lips quirked. Something about the blonde’s voice resonated through him like a tuning fork struck against his soul—clear, perfect, inexplicably right.
Then the scent hit him. Subtle but unmistakable, cutting through coffee and pastries and rain-soaked clothing like a blade through silk.
Fresh snow and moonlight that shouldn’t have been possible to detect from this distance.
MINE.
His panther didn’t stir—it fucking erupted.
Cole gripped the nearest table to keep from staggering, wood creaking beneath his fingers as claws threatened to emerge.
His vision sharpened instantly, the world suddenly high definition as his senses locked on the young man.
Colors intensified. Sounds clarified. That scent became the center of his universe.
His skin felt too tight, bones aching with the need to shift, to claim, to possess. Every rational thought vanished, replaced by a single command hammering through his skull: MATE.
Michael placed a hand on the blonde’s arm, fingers pressing possessively into fabric. “Come on, Eli.”
The blonde—Eli—looked pointedly at Michael’s hand, then back at his face with an expression that managed sweetness and murderous intent.
“Touch me again and you’ll be eating those pastries through a straw.
” The threat came with such a pleasant smile it took Michael a moment to register the steel beneath.
Cole’s panther snarled at another alpha touching their mate. The beast wanted to cross the room in three strides, rip Michael’s hand away, show him exactly what happened to those who dared touch what was theirs. Cole’s fingers curled into fists, claws pressing against his palms.
When Michael’s grip only tightened, Eli’s gaze swept the room—and landed directly on Cole.
Recognition flashed in those pale-blue eyes, followed by mischievous calculation that transformed his face from beautiful to breathtaking.
He extracted himself from Michael’s grasp with a practiced twist that spoke of experience dealing with unwanted attention.
“Excuse me, I see my date has arrived,” Eli announced, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, voice carrying just the right note of relief and affection. “Unlike some people, he understands that ‘no’ isn’t the opening bid in a negotiation.”
Before Michael could respond, Eli was striding across the café toward Cole. The sight of his mate approaching sent possessive triumph surging through Cole so powerful it nearly knocked him back. His panther preened beneath his skin, claws scraping for release.
Coming to us, it crowed. Choosing us. OURS.
“Well, if it isn’t my knight in shining Armani,” Eli called out, closing the distance with confidence that belied his slender frame.
“Perfect timing. The local wildlife was getting handsy.” He slipped arms around Cole’s waist without hesitation, pressing his body against Cole’s larger frame.
“Play along if you want to live,” he whispered, though the playful glint in his eyes belied the dramatic words.
The contact hit Cole like a live wire. Heat flooded his system, his panther howling with satisfaction as their mate willingly pressed against them.
The scent engulfed him completely—winter moonlight on fresh snow, with undertones of something wild that called to his most primal instincts.
His hands moved without permission, settling possessively at Eli’s waist, drawing him closer until their bodies pressed together from chest to thigh.
“Sorry I’m late,” Cole replied, his voice dropping to a register he’d never used in public—rough and possessive. “The storm delayed me.”
Eli’s pupils dilated at the sound, pale blue nearly swallowed by black. His heartbeat jumped, a rapid flutter Cole felt against his own chest.
“Worth the wait,” Eli said with a wink, then added in a stage whisper that carried, “Though next time, try to arrive before I have to fend off local predators with nothing but my rapier wit.”
Up close, he was devastating. Flawless pale skin that seemed to glow, delicate features with an ethereal quality, extraordinary eyes—pale blue touched with lavender, like alpine ice reflecting twilight.
His slender frame contained unexpected strength, lean muscle evident beneath rain-dampened clothes.
Cole’s panther drank in every detail with possessive hunger, already mapping places it would mark, claim, protect.
Michael approached, expression shifting from annoyance to surprise as he recognized Cole. The scent of another alpha—a rival—made Cole’s panther bristle. One arm tightened around Eli’s waist, the other shifting to position his mate partially behind him.
“Cole Carmichael,” Michael said, surprise evident. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Michael.” Cole nodded, not bothering with pleasantries. His thumb traced small circles against Eli’s back, a possessive gesture that wasn’t lost on the other alpha. “Just stopped for coffee before heading to the estate.”
“I see the Carmichaels keep their treasures close,” Michael said, gaze lingering on Eli with interest that made Cole’s panther snarl. “He didn’t mention he was waiting for you specifically.”
“That’s because I don’t publish my daily itinerary for stalkers,” Eli shot back, leaning more comfortably against Cole’s chest. “Shocking concept, I know.”