Page 76 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

Adrian pulled back just enough to speak, his lips still brushing Eli’s with each word. “Our third cousin is getting restless. Apparently, I’m taking too long with my artistic process.”

Eli blinked, his kiss-dazed expression clearing slightly. “You’re actually serious? All three of you?”

“Deadly serious,” Adrian confirmed, his thumb tracing Eli’s lower lip, still swollen from his attention. “We share everything important. And you, Eliot Harper, are the most important discovery we’ve made in thirty years.”

The flush that spread across Eli’s cheeks at his words was better than any standing ovation Adrian had ever received. Their mate was responding perfectly to their claim, even if he didn’t yet understand its supernatural significance.

Adrian stepped back reluctantly, admiring his handiwork with a director’s critical eye.

Eli looked thoroughly claimed—shirt hanging open to reveal the pattern of marks Adrian had left across his chest and abdomen, a deliberate composition that transformed Jace’s more primitive claiming into part of a larger artistic vision.

The contrast between their styles was striking—Jace’s marks concentrated on Eli’s neck, powerful and possessive, while Adrian’s created a visual melody across his chest and torso, each one placed with the precision of a master painter.

Beautiful. Perfect canvas.

“You should see yourself,” Adrian murmured, guiding Eli gently from the desk to stand before the antique mirror hanging on the far wall. “My finest work to date.”

Eli’s eyes widened as he took in his reflection—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and the unmistakable evidence of being thoroughly claimed by two different alphas.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, fingers tracing one of Adrian’s marks with something like wonder.

“I look like I’ve been mauled by a very artistic vampire. ”

Adrian laughed, genuinely delighted by the description. “That might be the nicest review my work has ever received. Better than that pretentious New Yorker critic who called my last film ‘hauntingly visceral.’”

“This is completely insane,” Eli said, but there was less conviction in his voice now. “I can’t just… let all three of you… this isn’t normal.”

“Normal is just another word for forgettable,” Adrian assured him, helping button Eli’s shirt with reluctant fingers. “And you, little snow kitten, are anything but forgettable.”

Through the pack bond, he sensed Cole’s growing impatience, his cousin’s panther stalking restlessly as it waited its turn.

He stepped back, giving Eli space to collect himself. “The east corridor should be clear,” he said, moving to the library door. “Though I wouldn’t mind if someone saw you like this.” He gestured to Eli’s thoroughly debauched appearance. “My work deserves a wider audience.”

“You’re impossible,” Eli muttered, though there was no heat in it. “All of you.”

He watched as Eli slipped out the door, satisfaction coursing through him at the visible evidence of his claiming—the artistic pattern of marks now decorating Eli’s body beneath his shirt, the slight dishevelment that no amount of straightening could completely hide, the dazed look in those extraordinary eyes.

Through the pack bond, he sent his cousins a final, smug image of their thoroughly claimed mate.

Your move, Cole, he challenged. Though I doubt even you can improve on this particular composition.

Marked best, his panther added with pride. Most beautiful claiming. Jace has no style.

***

Cole prowled the edges of the family gathering, outwardly maintaining polite conversation while his senses tracked Eli’s movement through the crowd. The images his cousins had broadcast through their pack bond left his body taut with anticipation—Eli marked and claimed yet still somehow incomplete.

His panther paced restlessly, claws scraping his insides. Our turn now. Need to mark what’s ours.

When Eli slipped through the French doors onto the terrace, Cole excused himself from a conversation with distant relatives who couldn’t have looked more relieved to see him go.

The late afternoon sun painted everything in gold, casting shadows across the manicured lawn as Cole followed his mate’s scent.

He found Eli leaning against the stone balustrade, fingers tracing the marks visible above his collar.

The platinum of his hair caught the sunlight, turning it almost iridescent against the backdrop of the gardens beyond.

Cole’s breath caught at the sight—his panther lunging forward with such force he had to grip the doorframe to steady himself.

Beautiful. Ours.

“Escaping the circus?” Cole asked, his voice deeper than he intended.

Eli startled, spinning to face him with those extraordinary lavender-blue eyes wide. “Just getting some air before I spontaneously combust from all the meaningful looks you three keep shooting at me.”

“I imagine so,” Cole agreed, moving closer. “After what my cousins put you through.”

A flush spread across Eli’s cheeks, the pink highlighting the perfect architecture of his face. “I have no idea what you’re implying. These could be really aggressive mosquito bites for all anyone knows.”

“Don’t you?” Cole stopped directly in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from Eli’s body but not yet touching. “The marks on your neck suggest otherwise.”

Eli’s hand flew to his throat, pulse visibly accelerating. “They—we—look, there’s not exactly a handbook for this situation, okay?”

“Come with me,” Cole said, not a question but not quite a command either. He extended his hand, an invitation Eli could technically refuse.

Eli stared at the offered hand, conflict clear in his expression. “Where?”

“Somewhere more private than a terrace with twenty windows overlooking it.”

After a moment’s hesitation that felt like eternity to Cole’s panther, Eli placed his hand in Cole’s. The contact sent electricity shooting up his arm, his beast purring with satisfaction at finally touching what it considered theirs.

Soft. Warm. Perfect.

Cole led Eli down the stone steps and into the gardens, following a winding path that led away from the main house.

The sounds of the party faded with each step, replaced by birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the light breeze.

Eli kept pace beside him, his scent betraying a mix of nervousness and undeniable interest.

“Where are we going?” Eli asked as they passed through an ornamental gate into a more secluded section of the gardens.

“Here,” Cole replied, guiding Eli around a final bend in the path.

Before them stood a pergola covered in cascading wisteria, the purple blooms hanging in lush clusters over a stone bench.

White roses climbed the adjacent trellis, their scent mingling with the sweeter fragrance of the wisteria.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the blooms, casting dappled shadows across the flagstone floor.

“Oh,” Eli breathed, the single syllable filled with genuine appreciation. “I didn’t know this was here.”

“Few people do,” Cole said, watching Eli’s face as he took in the hidden bower. “My grandmother designed it. A private sanctuary away from the main gardens.”

Cole drew Eli beneath the canopy of wisteria, positioning him in a shaft of sunlight that turned his platinum hair almost luminous. Against the backdrop of purple blooms and white roses, Eli looked otherworldly—too beautiful to be real.

Perfect framing. Better than Adrian’s artistic posturing or Jace’s brute claiming.

“Why did you bring me here?” Eli asked, though the acceleration of his pulse suggested he already knew.

“You’ve spent enough time indoors today,” Cole replied, reaching out to brush a stray petal from Eli’s shoulder. The simple contact made Eli visibly shiver. “I thought you might appreciate something… different.”

“Different from what your cousins did, you mean.” Not a question.

“They lack imagination,” Cole said simply, circling Eli slowly. “A guest room. A library. So predictable.”

Eli tracked Cole’s movement, turning to keep him in sight. “And you’re more original?”

“I simply understand that beauty should be appreciated in its proper setting.” Cole stopped directly in front of Eli again, close enough to detect the subtle shift in his scent—winter purity now laced with honey-sweet arousal. “And you, Eli Harper, belong among beautiful things.”

Eli’s throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze dropping briefly to Cole’s mouth before darting away. “Wow, do you workshop these lines, or do they just flow naturally from years of billionaire charm school?”

“Not a line,” Cole corrected, reaching up to trace the marks his cousins had left along Eli’s neck. “An observation.”

Eli’s breath hitched at the contact, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of lavender-blue remained. “Let me guess—now it’s your turn to add to the collection? Do you three have a sign-up sheet, or is this more of a spontaneous territorial marking situation?”

“Did they?” Cole’s fingers continued their exploration, mapping the pattern of marks. His panther cataloged each one—Jace’s brutal claiming on the left side, Adrian’s artistic composition across the right. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Confused,” Eli admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Confused as hell, but apparently my self-preservation instincts have completely malfunctioned today.”

That was all Cole needed. His hand slid to the back of Eli’s neck, fingers tangling in platinum strands as he pulled him forward.

Unlike his cousins’ approaches—Jace’s immediate dominance or Adrian’s teasing artistry—Cole’s kiss was devastating in its thoroughness.

He claimed Eli’s mouth like a man mapping unexplored territory, determined to discover every secret, every response.

Finally. Ours.