Page 48 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)
“Split up?” Adrian asked, his voice a growl as his canines lengthened past human possibility.
“Cover more ground.” Jace nodded, feeling his own shift burning through his veins like wildfire. “North ridge in an hour. If you can reach it—east access might be flooded.”
No more words needed. Three bodies surrendered to nature’s most elegant violence—bones cracking and reforming, muscles rippling beneath skin that sprouted midnight fur.
Where three Hollywood-polished men had stood moments before, three massive panthers now crouched—each the size of a small horse, shoulders standing nearly four feet from the ground.
Jace’s midnight form was the largest, amber eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence that no director had ever captured on film.
Adrian’s sleek body moved like liquid sex, copper undertones glinting in his fur when moonlight hit just right.
Cole’s powerful frame bore unusual silver markings across his shoulders, his gray eyes scanning the territory with the same precision that had built his tech empire.
East, Jace directed through their pack bond, the communication flowing easier than their human words ever could. West. North. Ridge in an hour.
They separated with deadly grace, each panther melting into the forest like they were collecting royalties on stealth.
Jace’s massive paws sank into mud with each step, the storm-ravaged terrain presenting obstacles that would have stopped lesser predators.
Fallen trees, flooded creeks, and debris-strewn paths required all his agility to navigate.
His senses drank in his territory like a fine whiskey—to be savored, analyzed, appreciated.
The storm had washed away many scents, but to his enhanced senses, the most important ones remained.
The primal joy of running in his true form eased some of the tension that had been building since they’d discovered what was sleeping in their guest bedroom.
The forest knew him, remembered him, even in its storm-battered state.
These ancient trees had sheltered generations of Carmichael panthers since Sebastian first claimed this land in 1789.
His beast felt the connection in its bones—this wasn’t just property; this was their domain, their sanctuary, their birthright.
East boundary’s been compromised, Cole’s voice sliced through Jace’s territorial high. Fresh scents beneath the storm smell. Not local. Professional. They used the weather as cover.
Saw Huntington markers on my drive in, Jace replied, clearing a fallen tree in a leap that would have made his stunt double weep with envy. Fresher than they should’ve been.
More than territorial pissing. Cole’s tone was sharp with alarm. Found sensors deliberately disabled. Someone’s mapping our security grid. Storm gave them perfect cover—half our systems are waterlogged.
Jace’s growl rumbled through the forest like distant thunder. The timing was too perfect—their mate’s powers emerging, a record-breaking storm, and security breaches happening simultaneously? His beast wasn’t buying coincidence. Not for a second.
Someone knows, Adrian joined in, his usual artistic playfulness replaced with deadly focus. About our snow kitten?
Or they’ve noticed three alpha panthers suddenly converging after years apart, Cole reasoned. We haven’t exactly been subtle.
The storm wasn’t natural, Adrian added, the realization hitting all three simultaneously. Too convenient. Too targeted.
Jace pushed his massive body faster, eating up the distance to the north ridge despite mud that sucked at his paws and streams that had become raging torrents overnight.
His beast’s protective instincts flared with each bound, images of Eli’s vulnerable form flashing through his mind.
The thought of hunters targeting their mate sent a wave of murderous rage through him that would have made his PR team shit themselves.
Mine, his beast snarled. OURS to protect.
The north ridge, usually offering a commanding view of the valley, was partially obscured by lingering mist. Still, the Carmichael estate sprawled below like something from a fairy tale, if fairy tales came with security systems and wine cellars.
The three panthers converged there within moments of each other, massive forms materializing from the darkness like living shadows, water streaming from their fur.
Found blood magic traces near the western border, Adrian reported, his voice tight with disgust. Recent. Powerful. Amateur hour but effective. Storm didn’t wash it away—might have been part of the ritual.
Jace’s hackles rose, a growl building in his chest. Blood magic was bad news wrapped in worse intentions—the kind of power that required sacrifice and left corruption in its wake.
Where? Cole demanded.
Old boundary stones, Adrian replied. The ley line convergence. They’re half-submerged now, but the magic’s still active. Water’s actually amplifying it.
The three panthers exchanged looks loaded with understanding. Those ancient stones marked more than just territory—they tapped into supernatural currents that flowed beneath the earth. Someone targeting that spot knew exactly what they were doing, and it wasn’t leaving a friendly welcome basket.
This isn’t coincidence. Jace’s voice was dark with fury. Eli’s powers emerging, engineered storm, boundary testing, blood magic…
Blood Moon Massacre was nine years ago, Cole reminded them. This could be round two.
The implications hung heavy between them. If the same forces that had killed Eli’s parents were back for seconds, if they somehow knew about the celestial snow leopard hidden on Carmichael land…
Need information, Adrian insisted. From Uncle George, from Thomas and Tricia. From whatever Helen left behind.
And better defenses, Cole added. I’ll upgrade security tomorrow. Replace compromised sensors, add new ones. Storm-proof everything.
Jace stared down at the mansion, his amber gaze fixed on the wing where Eli slept.
His panther’s protective instincts surged with renewed intensity, the beast ready to tear apart anything that threatened their mate with the same enthusiasm he brought to his action sequences—except this wouldn’t be choreographed.
We protect what’s ours, he declared, the alpha authority in his voice leaving no room for argument. Whatever’s coming, whatever wants him, they go through us first.
His cousins’ panthers rumbled their agreement, the sound vibrating through the bond they shared. Three apex predators, united in purpose for perhaps the first time since puberty hit and they’d started competing over everything.
They spent another hour marking boundaries with renewed vigor, leaving scent markers that carried warnings any supernatural creature would understand—this land was claimed, protected, defended by predators who would show no mercy to intruders.
Subtle as a neon sign in Vegas but twice as effective.
The storm had washed away their previous markings, making this territorial assertion even more critical.
Dawn was approaching when they finally shifted back, their human forms feeling strangely constrained after the freedom of their panther bodies. They dressed in silence, mud-spattered and soaking wet but too focused on their discoveries to care about ruined designer clothes.
“We keep this quiet for now,” Jace said, buttoning his shirt with sharp, efficient movements. “No need to start a panic before we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Agreed.” Cole nodded. “But we increase security immediately. Storm damage gives us the perfect excuse to upgrade everything.”
“And we stay close to Eli,” Adrian insisted, his usual playfulness replaced with something darker. “One of us with him at all times.”
Jace’s eyes flashed gold momentarily, his panther still riding shotgun beneath his skin. “Always.”
As they headed back toward the mansion, Jace couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching the calm before a storm—one that had been brewing for nine years and made last night’s deluge look like a light sprinkle.
Whatever was coming, they would be ready. Carmichael panthers protected what was theirs. And Eli Harper, their impossible, beautiful, celestial snow leopard, was theirs to protect—whether he knew it yet or not.