Page 46 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

CARMICHAEL COUSINS

Sleep was a joke tonight. Jace tossed his latest script aside, his panther pacing beneath his skin like a caged beast. That scent lingered in his nose—moonlight on fresh snow, pure and wild and addictive.

Eli Harper.

His beast snarled at just the thought of that name. Christ, one glimpse of those pale-blue eyes and that platinum hair had his panther ready to tear through his skin. The need to claim, to mark, to own wasn’t just strong—it was a physical ache that made his bones feel hollow.

Need mate. Find mate. Claim mate. OURS.

Your panther’s as restless as mine. Adrian’s voice slid through their pack bond, dark with want.

Hard to sleep with him so close. Jace’s voice was rough, his control hanging by a thread. His panther pushed images of pale skin and those damn lavender-touched eyes forward. My beast wants to break down his door and curl around him.

Been trying to distract myself, Cole joined in, his usual tech-mogul precision cracking. Looking into our mysterious Mr. Harper.

Jace’s panther went still, like it did before a kill. And?

It’s… fuck. Cole’s uncertainty was rare enough to make Jace’s hackles rise. Started with basics—birth records, family history. But each answer’s leading to more questions.

Jace sat up, his beast pushing forward hard enough that his eyes flashed gold in the darkness. The panther didn’t like this—didn’t like anything suggesting their mate might be in danger.

Talk, he growled, alpha authority bleeding through.

Not everything at once, Cole cautioned, his voice tight with unusual tension. Let’s work through this methodically.

Adrian’s impatience spiked through their bond, his artistic temperament shredding his usual playfulness. Start somewhere, Cole. My panther’s about to claw through my fucking skin.

Eli was born twenty-one years ago in Seattle, Cole began, organizing his thoughts with the same precision that had built his tech empire. That much is straightforward. His parents…

The pause made Jace’s beast snarl with impatience.

What about them? Jace demanded, his panther prowling closer to the surface, every sense heightened as it waited for information that might affect their mate.

Viktor Petrov and Amara Whiteclaw, Cole finally said.

Jace’s panther reacted before his human brain caught up, a growl ripping from his chest. Whiteclaw? As in…

The celestial snow leopards, Jace murmured, memories stirring of stories his father had told around pack bonfires. I thought they were just legends.

His panther paced with renewed urgency, connecting ancient tales to the ethereal beauty that had captivated them. Stories whispered among alphas about rare shifters with fur like moonlight, who disappeared into mountain mists when hunted.

Not legends, Cole confirmed, his tone tight with tension. Nearly hunted to extinction centuries ago. Their blood was said to be more valuable than gold.

Jace’s panther prowled closer to the surface, suddenly connecting Eli’s unusual scent, his ethereal features, the way moonlight seemed to caress his skin differently than others.

The beast pushed images through their shared consciousness—the way Eli had practically glowed when the moonlight touched him at dinner, how his scent had triggered their most primal instincts, the delicate grace with which he moved.

If his mother was a celestial snow leopard… Jace’s beast snarled possessively.

His parents died nine years ago, Cole cut in. Officially? Car accident. Actually? Same night as the Blood Moon Massacre.

Jace’s claws ripped through his sheets. The night supernatural territories across the Northwest were hit in coordinated strikes. Marcus Stone returning to school hollow-eyed and suddenly alpha. The Sinclairs nearly wiped out on the coast.

Thirty-four dead officially, Cole continued. Probably more.

And Eli’s parents were among them, Jace’s panther roared with protective fury. The beast clawed at his insides, demanding vengeance for harm done to what was theirs.

Kill them, it snarled. Find them. Destroy them. Protect mate.

Not according to official records, Cole cautioned. Those still list a car accident. But the timing is too convenient to be coincidence.

What happened to Eli afterward? Adrian asked, his panther’s concern bleeding through their bond, stripping away his usual artistic detachment.

Three weeks in the hospital with severe injuries and trauma, Cole answered. Then something strange happens—he’s immediately adopted by Thomas and Tricia Harper. No foster system, no waiting period. Just immediate placement.

That’s not how adoptions work. Jace frowned, his panther growling suspiciously. The beast sensed manipulation, hidden agendas, things that might affect their mate’s safety.

No, it’s not, Cole agreed. Unless someone with significant influence intervenes. In this case, Helen Harper—Thomas’ mother and our pack’s historian and seer.

The three panthers shared a moment of stunned realization.

Helen arranged it, Adrian said slowly. And then kept him close for years.

He lived with her in Seattle for three years, Cole confirmed. Near the hospital for continued treatment and therapy. Then when he was sixteen and Helen moved to Sunset Pines, Eli came to live with Thomas and Tricia at the estate cottage.

Jace’s panther paced restlessly, processing this information with growing agitation. If Helen Harper—a powerful seer with connections throughout the supernatural world—had gone to such lengths to protect a boy, the threat must have been significant.

If Helen arranged his adoption and personally guarded him for three years…

She saw something, Adrian finished. Something big enough to hide a celestial feline’s orphaned cub right under everyone’s noses.

Or something dangerous enough that he needed protection, Cole added grimly.

Jace’s panther bristled, fur rising along its spine. If their pack’s seer had gone to such lengths to protect a child…

He could still be in danger, Cole voiced what they were all thinking.

The wave of protective violence that hit Jace nearly triggered a shift. His panther flooded his mind with images of tearing apart anyone who threatened their mate, leaving nothing but blood and broken bodies.

We protect what’s ours. Adrian’s voice held none of its usual playful edge.

But carefully. Jace forced his beast back. He’s skittish enough. Push too hard…

He’ll run, Cole agreed. And we can’t risk that. Not until we know what he is and why Helen hid him here.

So we go slow, Adrian suggested, though his panther clearly hated it. Court him properly.

Court him? Jace raised an eyebrow physically, though his cousins couldn’t see it. His panther snarled at the delay, wanting to claim their mate immediately. What century are you living in?

The one where our mate deserves more than being pounced on by three alphas before he even understands what’s happening, Adrian retorted. He’s been sheltered. Protected. There’s a reason for that.

Adrian’s right, Cole supported. We need to win his trust first. The claiming can wait.

Jace’s beast disagreed vehemently, pushing images of Eli marked and claimed and safe between them. The beast didn’t care about human conventions or polite courtship—it wanted their mate protected in the most primal way possible, through claiming bites and scent marking and physical possession.

Claim now, it insisted, raking claws against his insides. Mark him. Make him OURS. Keep him safe.

He forced the beast back with effort. Fine. We go slow. But we stay close. He’s too valuable to leave unprotected.

Agreed, his cousins responded in unison, their panthers reluctantly accepting the strategy.

Tomorrow, we talk to Uncle George, Cole decided. And Elder Matthews. They were here during the Blood Moon. They might know something about the Whiteclaw line.

Try to get some sleep, Adrian advised, though his own restlessness belied the suggestion. Our panthers won’t settle until we understand what’s happening.

The connection dimmed as his cousins withdrew, though it never fully disappeared. Jace lay back down, his mind racing with questions about the enigmatic young man sleeping just down the hall.

His panther continued to pace, alert and protective, already considering Eli as theirs despite having just met him. Whatever secrets surrounded Eli Harper, whatever dangers lurked in his past, one thing was clear—the three Carmichael panthers had found something precious.

And they’d destroy anything that threatened it.

Protect mate, his beast vowed. Find enemies. Eliminate threats. Keep safe. OURS.

Sleep, when it finally came, was filled with dreams of pale-blue eyes and silver fur glinting in moonlight.

The scratching at his door yanked Jace from restless sleep. His panther surged forward, every sense razor-sharp in an instant. Scents intensified, sounds clarified, his vision cutting through predawn darkness.

Danger? his beast questioned, already preparing to defend their territory.

Jace moved silently to the door, every muscle coiled and ready. When he pulled it open, he found Titan, the massive Newfoundland’s eyes reflecting worry in the dim hallway light.

The dog whined softly, turning toward the guest wing where Eli slept.

“What is it, boy?” Jace asked, though his panther already sensed the distress. Something was wrong with Eli.

His beast slammed against his skin so hard his bones ached. Protective instincts flooded his system, overwhelming the careful control he’d perfected for the cameras. Fuck Hollywood polish—his mate needed him.

Mate in danger, his beast snarled, claws emerging without conscious control. Protect. NOW.

Jace fought for control, following Titan down the hallway with silent, predatory grace. Outside Eli’s door, the dog whined again, pawing gently at the wood.