Page 54 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

Acold, wet nose suddenly pressed against my hand, making me jump like I’d been tased.

I looked down to find Titan gazing up at me with soulful eyes.

The massive Newfoundland had been my silent guardian through the night, his warm bulk curled against me when I woke this morning.

He must have slipped out when I was in Sheena’s room getting my emergency makeover.

“Hey there, big guy,” I greeted, crouching to scratch behind his ears. My fingers sank into his thick fur, finding that sweet spot that made his back leg thump against the floor. “Missed me already?”

“He’s never far from you these days,” George commented, watching our interaction with a strange expression that seemed too knowing for comfort. “He’s quite protective.”

“He’s just a hundred and seventy pounds of pure marshmallow, aren’t you?” I cooed, completely unashamed that I baby talk to the dog. Titan’s tail thumped against the floor in enthusiastic agreement, threatening to create a new fault line in the hardwood.

A high-pitched yap interrupted our moment, and I looked up to see Princess trotting into the room with all the confidence of a dog ten times her size. The Pomeranian’s white fur was perfectly groomed, her pink bow sitting at a jaunty angle that suggested she knew exactly how adorable she was.

“And here comes trouble.” I grinned as the tiny fluffball made a beeline for me, completely ignoring her owner in favor of jumping excitedly at my knees.

“Traitor,” Sheena muttered as Princess performed what appeared to be an interpretive dance of pure joy at my feet.

I scooped up the little dog, who immediately tried to lick my face with the enthusiasm of someone greeting a returning war hero. “She just recognizes quality when she sees it, don’t you, Princess? She has excellent taste in humans.”

“More like she recognizes who sneaks her treats when I’m not looking,” Sheena accused, narrowing her eyes at me.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied blatantly, scratching under Princess’ chin. “We have a purely platonic relationship based on mutual respect.”

“And bacon,” Cole said dryly, nodding toward the tiny piece I’d palmed from the platter with the sleight of hand of a Vegas card dealer.

I grinned, unrepentant. “A friendship without benefits is hardly worth having.”

Princess delicately accepted the bacon from my fingers, then settled contentedly in my arms, ignoring Sheena’s betrayed expression with regal indifference.

“I feed you organic, hand-prepared dog food, and this is the thanks I get,” she complained to her pet. “I’ve created a bacon-seeking missile with fur.”

“She’s got good taste,” Adrian commented, his eyes never leaving my face. “Can’t blame her for knowing what she wants.”

There was something in his tone that made me flush, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. It was like he was talking about something entirely different than Princess’ food preferences. I busied myself setting Princess down and giving Titan a final pat before straightening up.

“I should get the eggs,” I mumbled, turning toward the kitchen.

“Don’t rush off,” Cole called after me, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through my bones like I’d swallowed a subwoofer. “The view was just getting interesting.”

I froze mid-step, heat rushing to my face so fast I was surprised my hair didn’t catch fire.

Had he just—? No, I must have misheard. There’s no way Cole Carmichael, tech billionaire and most eligible bachelor on the west coast, just made a comment about my ass.

That would be ridiculous. Impossible. Insane.

“The eggs, Cole,” Jace reprimanded his cousin, though when I glanced back, his eyes were dancing with amusement. “Though I agree with the sentiment.”

Oh my God. They were talking about my ass. All three of them. In the middle of breakfast. In front of their parents. My face went from “slightly flushed” to “surface of the sun” in approximately 0.2 seconds.

“You three are impossible,” Sheena declared, rolling her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t get stuck. “Eli, ignore them. They’ve forgotten their manners.”

“Bold of you to assume we had any to begin with,” Adrian replied with a wink in my direction that did dangerous things to my internal organs.

I escaped to the kitchen, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to break free and run away without me.

Every interaction with the cousins left me more confused than the last. The way they looked at me, spoke to me, seemed to track my every movement—it wasn’t normal.

And neither was my body’s response to them, this weird mix of fight-or-flight and please-touch-me-immediately that made no logical sense.

I grabbed the platter of perfectly arranged eggs, focusing on not dropping them as my hands trembled slightly. My skin still tingled where Cole’s eyes had lingered, where Adrian’s gaze had caressed, where Jace’s attention had burned.

“Everything alright?” my mother asked quietly as I passed her, her eyes sharp with maternal concern.

“Fine,” I lied, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. “Just… adjusting to having a full house.”

She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me for a second but mercifully let it drop. “Just be careful, Eli. The Carmichaels are good people, but they’re still…”

“I know, Mom,” I assured her, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was agreeing to. “I’ll be careful.”

I returned to the dining room, where the conversation had shifted to Jace’s latest film project. I kept my eyes down, focusing on the task at hand rather than the three pairs of eyes I could feel tracking my every movement.

“The director’s insisting on practical stunts,” Jace was saying as I set down the eggs. “Says CGI looks too fake for the scene.”

“Is that safe?” Madi asked, concern evident in her voice.

Jace shrugged, his muscles rippling beneath his fitted shirt in a way that should be illegal before noon. “I’ve done worse. The stunt coordinator is top-notch.”

“Always the daredevil,” Adrian commented, his eyes tracking me as I moved around the table. “Eli, what do you think? Should my cousin risk his pretty face for cinematic authenticity?”

I nearly stumbled, surprised to be drawn into their conversation. “I, um—I don’t really know much about filmmaking.”

“But you’re an artist,” Jace countered, his intense gaze making my skin tingle like I’d been lightly electrocuted. “You understand the difference between authentic and artificial, don’t you?”

The way he said it made it sound like we were discussing something far more intimate than movie stunts. His voice had dropped to that low register that did strange things to my insides, like my organs were rearranging themselves to better appreciate his vocal timbre.

“I suppose,” I managed, focusing on pouring coffee without spilling it all over George’s expensive tablecloth. “But there’s a difference between artistic integrity and jumping off a building. One gets you awards, the other gets you a closed-casket funeral.”

“He’s got you there.” Cole chuckled, holding out his cup for me to fill. As I poured, his fingers deliberately brushed against mine, lingering just long enough to send a jolt of electricity up my arm that would have powered a small city. “Thank you, Eli. Your hands are remarkably steady.”

They weren’t, not anymore, and he knew it.

I could see it in the subtle curve of his lips, the knowing gleam in his eyes.

The touch had been deliberate, calculated to provoke a reaction.

And damn him, it had worked. My pulse jumped like it was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil, and my skin felt hypersensitive where his fingers had brushed mine.

“The new gallery in Portland called,” Sheena announced, scrolling through her phone. “They want to feature your photography in their opening exhibition, Adrian.”

“Interesting,” Adrian replied, though his eyes never left me. “Eli, have you ever been to a gallery opening?”

“No,” I admitted, setting down a basket of fresh muffins. “I don’t really—”

“You should come to this one,” he interrupted, his voice like warm honey poured over my nervous system. “As my guest. I could show you how the art world works from the inside.”

Was he… asking me out? First Jace’s dinner invitation, and now this? Adrian Carmichael asking me to an art gallery? The universe was definitely having a laugh at my expense. Next, Cole would probably invite me to a tech conference, and I’d hit the Carmichael trifecta of surreal date offers.

“I don’t think—” I began, flustered by the invitation and the way my traitorous body was practically singing with delight at the idea.

“He’d need something to wear,” Cole interjected, his gaze traveling over me in a way that made me feel simultaneously exposed and wrapped in warmth. “Something that highlights those remarkable eyes.”

“I could help with that,” Sheena offered eagerly, perking up like someone had just mentioned a sale at Saks. “I have connections with several designers who would love to dress him.”

“I’m not a doll,” I protested, though no one seemed to be listening. They were discussing me like I wasn’t even there, planning my outfit for an event I hadn’t even agreed to attend. “Hello? Person with agency and opinions standing right here?”

“Blue,” Jace said decisively, studying me with an intensity that made my breath catch. “Something in midnight blue to bring out the lavender in his eyes.”

“Lavender?” I echoed, confused. “My eyes are blue.”

“Not entirely,” Adrian contradicted, leaning forward to examine me more closely. The scrutiny made heat rush to my face. “They have flecks of lavender around the iris. It’s quite unusual. Beautiful, actually.”

“I—thank you?” I stammered, not sure how to respond to such focused attention. No one had ever noticed the color of my eyes in such detail before, let alone commented on it.