Page 50 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

Jace froze, momentarily stunned by the sight before him.

Eli looked soft and warm from sleep, his platinum hair adorably mussed, sticking up in places and falling into his eyes.

He was still wearing Sheena’s borrowed clothes from the evening before, though considerably more rumpled.

The oversized shirt had slipped farther down one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of collarbone that made Jace’s mouth go dry.

His beast surged forward with such force that Jace had to grip the doorframe to steady himself, fighting the urge to pull Eli into his room and never let him leave.

The scent of their mate—still warm from sleep, untainted by soap or cologne—hit him like a physical blow, his nostrils flaring as he drank it in.

Take him, his panther urged, claws scraping beneath his skin. Pull him inside. Mark him. Claim him. OURS.

But beneath the possessive desire, Jace felt something else—a fierce protectiveness that nearly stole his breath.

The memory of Eli’s nightmare, of his tears and whimpers, was still fresh.

Whatever had happened nine years ago had left scars that went deeper than Eli knew.

His panther whined at the thought, wanting to shelter their mate from all pain, all fear, all harm.

Protect mate, it insisted, momentarily setting aside its sexual hunger in favor of concern. Keep safe. Heal wounds. Guard always.

“Good morning,” he managed, his voice rougher than intended. He had left his shirt half-unbuttoned, noting with satisfaction how Eli’s eyes kept dropping to the exposed skin before darting back up to his face, pupils dilating with each glance.

He wants us, his panther purred, preening under the attention. Responds to us. Perfect mate.

“Um…” Eli began, his voice still soft with sleep. “I should probably help my mom with breakfast. I'm sure she's already wondering where I am.”

Jace noticed dark shadows beneath Eli’s eyes, evidence of his restless night despite their presence.

His panther rumbled with protective concern, wanting to gather Eli close and shield him from whatever haunted his dreams. But Jace knew better than to mention it—the last thing Eli needed was to know they had witnessed him at his most vulnerable.

He doesn’t remember, his beast realized. Doesn’t know we comforted him. Doesn’t remember his shift starting.

“Did you sleep alright?” he asked instead, keeping his tone casual while his eyes carefully assessed Eli for any lingering distress. “Those guest beds can take some getting used to.”

“Like the dead,” Eli replied, then seemed to realize he was staring at Jace’s chest again and quickly averted his eyes. “That mattress is ridiculously comfortable. Pretty sure I’ve never slept on anything that expensive in my life.”

Jace couldn’t help but smile as Eli’s gaze made another circuit—eyes to lips to chest and back again—before the younger man caught himself and looked away, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

His panther preened at the obvious attraction, even as it continued its protective assessment.

Did Eli remember any of the nightmare? The way he’d cried out for his parents, the pain in his voice when he spoke of blood and shadows?

Needs protection, his beast insisted. Needs us. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“The blue room has one of the best mattresses in the house,” Jace said, taking a deliberate step closer. “Imported from Sweden.”

“Of course it is.” Eli rolled his eyes, though his pupils dilated at Jace’s proximity. “Because regular mattresses would be far too pedestrian for the Carmichael estate. Let me guess—stuffed with the feathers of endangered birds and the tears of your accountants?”

Jace laughed, delighted by Eli’s sass. His panther rumbled with pleasure at their mate’s spirit, at the way he pushed back rather than cowering before an alpha.

It was further proof of their perfect compatibility—Eli was strong enough to challenge them, to keep them honest, to be a true partner rather than a submissive mate.

Perfect, it purred. Strong. Worthy. OURS.

“Just sustainable materials, actually,” Jace replied, still chuckling. “Dad’s big on environmental responsibility.”

“How disappointingly reasonable,” Eli quipped, but his voice had gone slightly breathless as Jace moved closer still, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Eli’s skin.

Jace couldn’t resist reaching out to brush a wayward strand of platinum hair from Eli’s forehead.

The touch sent electricity through his fingertips, his panther rumbling with pleasure at the contact.

For just a moment, he imagined those delicate feline ears materializing beneath his touch, and his fingers lingered longer than strictly necessary.

Soft, his beast purred, savoring the silky texture. Beautiful. OURS to touch.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he murmured, fighting the urge to run his fingers through the silky strands, to cradle Eli’s head and pull him close.

Eli’s cheeks flushed pink. “Yes, well, not all of us wake up looking like we just stepped out of a photoshoot, Mr. A-List.”

“I think it’s cute,” Jace said honestly, ruffling the platinum locks gently before forcing himself to pull his hand back. His panther growled in protest at the loss of contact, claws scraping beneath his skin with frustration.

More touching, it demanded. Need more. Need ALL.

Eli’s blush deepened, and he took a small step backward. “I should… um… my mom is waiting.”

Jace wanted to say more, to find some reason to keep Eli there where he could watch over him, but he forced himself to step back.

Pushing too hard now would only drive Eli away.

His panther snarled at the retreat, but even the beast understood the need for strategic patience when hunting particularly skittish prey.

Careful stalking, it reluctantly agreed. Don’t frighten mate away.

“Of course. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Relief and something like disappointment mingled in Eli’s expression. “Right. Breakfast. See you there.” He hesitated, then added with a touch of his earlier sass, “Try buttoning your shirt before then. Some of us are trying to maintain our composure this early in the morning.”

With that parting shot, Eli hurried down the hall, but not before Jace caught the final appreciative glance thrown over his shoulder.

Jace watched him go, his panther rumbling with both frustration and satisfaction.

Every protective instinct in his body screamed at him to follow, to stay close, to guard against threats both remembered and forgotten.

But his beast was equally pleased by the clear signs of attraction—the dilated pupils, the quickened pulse, the lingering glances.

He wants us, it purred with satisfaction. Body knows what mind doesn’t yet understand. Perfect mate.

Eli might not understand the pull between them yet, but his body certainly did.

There would be time to explore that connection. First, they needed answers from his father.

***

George Carmichael was in his study as expected, coffee in hand, reviewing documents on his tablet. He looked up as the three cousins entered, surprise briefly crossing his features before his own alpha presence rose to meet theirs.

“All three of you, before breakfast?” George raised an eyebrow, setting aside his tablet with deliberate precision. “Either the world’s ending or someone’s mated. Given the territorial scent markers I noticed this morning, I’m guessing the latter.”

Jace exchanged glances with his cousins, silently deciding who would speak first. Cole gave a slight nod, and Jace turned back to his father.

“We need to talk about something that happened last night,” Jace said, his voice carrying the same commanding tone he used on film sets when directors tried to change his stunts. “Something about Eli Harper.”

George’s expression didn’t change, but his scent shifted instantly—a hint of wariness that all three panthers detected immediately. The change was slight, but to three alpha predators attuned to the slightest shifts in body language, it might as well have been a flashing neon sign.

He knows, Jace’s panther snarled, hackles rising at the deception. Kept secrets about our mate.

“Eli?” George repeated, his movement deliberately casual as he reached for his coffee. “What about him?”

Adrian leaned forward, the artistic grace gone from his movements, replaced by predatory intensity. “Cut the act, Uncle George. We saw what he is.”

The shift in George’s demeanor was subtle—just a slight tensing of his shoulders, a momentary pause before he lifted his coffee cup. But to three alpha predators attuned to the slightest shifts in body language, it was confirmation enough.

Definitely knows, Jace’s beast growled, territorial rage building. Kept mate from us deliberately.

“And what exactly do you think he is?” George asked, his voice carefully neutral, though his eyes had taken on the alpha gleam that had cowed lesser men for decades.

“I think you already know, Dad,” Jace said quietly, his own eyes flashing gold in response. “About what he is. About what we saw last night. About why you’ve kept us away from the estate for years.”

George took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Jace’s. When he finally set the cup down, his expression had hardened into the one that had negotiated billion-dollar deals and territory disputes with equal ruthlessness.

“Close the door,” he said simply.

Cole walked over and shut the door, the expensive wood nearly splintering under his grip. The three cousins settled into the chairs across from George’s desk, none of them relaxing into the leather. They sat like what they were—apex predators ready to spring.

The silence stretched, a test of wills that none of them were willing to break first. The tension thickened until even the human staff would have felt it through the closed door.