Page 87 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)

The estate spread out below us as we hit the final ridge, and holy shit, someone had gone full fortress mode while we were out getting mauled by discount nature documentary rejects.

Floodlights blazed from every corner like we were hosting the world’s most paranoid rave, and security teams were doing some kind of coordinated patrol dance between human and panther form.

“Well,” I mumbled into Jace’s impossibly soft fur as I clung to his back like the world’s most pathetic damsel in distress, “this day just keeps getting more like a rejected X-Men script. What’s next, a guy in a cape telling me I’m the chosen one?”

On the main terrace, three figures waited—Mom, Madi, and Sheena, all looking like they’d aged five years in the past few hours. The moment Jace crouched to let me down, Mom broke into a sprint that would’ve made Olympic runners weep with envy.

“Eli!” she cried, and I swore her voice cracked like she’d been gargling gravel.

The second my feet hit solid ground, my legs decided they were done with this whole “supporting body weight” nonsense and tried to stage a mutiny.

The leopard ears on top of my head—because yes, those were still there, tufted and twitchy and completely beyond my control—swiveled toward her voice like furry satellite dishes.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I croaked, though I sounded like I’d been chain-smoking for forty years. “Dad?”

“Already en route to Bellingham General,” Madi said, doing that alpha female thing where she stayed calm while clearly having an internal meltdown.

Though I caught her eyes going wide as dinner plates when she clocked my new…

accessories. “Paul got him and the injured security team out twenty minutes ago. Thomas is stable but needs surgery for internal bleeding.”

The four panthers behind me started doing that thing again, shifting back to human form. Which meant naked, blood-spattered men who still had murder in their eyes.

Mom’s hands fluttered toward me like she wanted to touch but wasn’t sure I wouldn’t bite her. When she finally spotted the leopard ears, she sucked in a breath sharp enough to puncture a tire.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, tears starting to leak like a broken faucet. “Your ears… they’re beautiful.” But there was something else in her eyes. Not surprise. Recognition. Like she’d been expecting this moment and dreading it in equal measure.

“They won’t go away,” I said, panic creeping into my voice as I touched them for the dozenth time.

“I don’t know how to make them go away. And this—” I gestured helplessly at the silver-furred tail that kept doing its own thing behind me.

“What the actual hell is happening to me? Because last time I checked, humans don’t spontaneously grow animal parts like some kind of budget werewolf movie. ”

A blur of white fur came rocketing down the steps, yipping with the kind of excitement usually reserved for treat time.

Princess spotted me and immediately went into overdrive mode—until she caught my scent.

Then she pulled a full cartoon skid, her tiny paws scrambling for purchase as she stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

Which, considering the ears, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

“It’s still me, Princess,” I said, bending down to her level. “Just with some new… features. Please don’t judge me for my life choices. I didn’t exactly sign up for this makeover.”

After a moment of what I swore was doggy deliberation, she decided different-smelling Eli was still Eli and launched herself at my legs with renewed enthusiasm. Though she kept shooting curious glances at my ears like she was trying to figure out if they were friend or foe.

A deep “woof” echoed across the terrace, and Titan came lumbering toward us with all the grace of a furry freight train. But instead of his usual gentle bulldozer greeting, he stopped about ten feet away, his massive head tilted in confusion.

His nostrils went into overdrive, processing my new scent like he was running some kind of internal diagnostic. The look on his face was almost comical—like he recognized me but couldn’t figure out why I suddenly smelled like a completely different species.

“Yeah, I know, big guy,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m as confused as you are. But hey, at least now we match—you’ve got the size advantage, I’ve got the ears. We’re like a very unbalanced buddy cop duo.”

Titan approached with the caution of someone defusing a bomb, sniffing my fingers thoroughly before deciding I was still worth his affection. His tail started wagging like a metronome on steroids, and he pressed his massive head against my hip in his usual greeting.

Suddenly, my knees decided they’d had enough of this whole standing thing. I started to crumple like a house of cards in a hurricane.

Jace caught me before I could face-plant into the marble, scooping me up like I weighed about as much as Princess. “I’ve got you,” he growled against my hair.

“We need to get him inside,” Madi declared, switching into full mama bear mode. “Dr. Reyes is standing by.”

“No hospitals,” Jace snarled, and I swore the sound was more panther than human. “He stays here.”

Dr. Reyes appeared in the mansion’s entrance like he’d been summoned by some kind of medical bat signal. The second he spotted my leopard ears, his eyes went wide, but he recovered faster than most people would after seeing someone sprout animal parts.

“Let’s get you inside, Eli,” he said, all business and efficiency. “I need to assess your condition.”

The estate’s medical suite was like something out of a high-end hospital, all gleaming equipment and sterile surfaces. Dr. Reyes was thorough but gentle as he examined my wounds, being extra careful around my new leopard features.

“A partial shift requires specialized care,” he explained while cleaning the shoulder bite. “Regular medicine isn’t equipped to handle supernatural transformations.”

“A partial what now?” I squeaked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew where this was going.

“Shift,” Dr. Reyes said, like he was explaining the weather instead of telling me my entire worldview was wrong. “When a supernatural being manifests some of their animal characteristics while maintaining human form. Your leopard ears and tail are textbook examples.”

And there it was. The words that officially made my life a rejected fantasy novel.

Supernatural being. Leopard. Not human.

Everything I thought I knew about myself just went up in flames like a Viking funeral.

“That’s impossible,” I whispered, my voice cracking like a thirteen-year-old’s. “I’m human. I’m adopted, but I’m human. I’ve been human for twenty-one years. I have a birth certificate and everything.”

The silence that followed was so thick you could’ve cut it with a chainsaw. Everyone was doing that thing where they exchange meaningful looks while I’m sitting there having an existential crisis.

“Sweetheart,” Mom said, her voice thick with years of what sounded like suppressed secrets, “there’s so much we’ve wanted to tell you. So much we couldn’t say.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded, panic rising in my chest like a tide of pure terror. “What else about my life is complete bullshit? What other bombshells are you sitting on?”

“Not now,” George said, appearing in the doorway with his full alpha authority cranked up to eleven. “First, medical attention. Then rest. Tomorrow, when you’re stronger, we’ll explain everything.”

Dr. Reyes was thorough but gentle as he continued examining my wounds, being extra careful around my new leopard features. My ears kept swiveling toward every sound—his instruments, conversations in the hallway, what sounded like someone stress eating in the kitchen three rooms away.

“Let’s start with the basics,” he said, pulling out what looked like a regular stethoscope before switching to something that definitely wasn’t standard medical equipment. “Supernatural vitals first.”

“Supernatural what now?” I asked, eyeing the crystal-tipped device he was waving over my chest.

“Heart rate, energy levels, shifter stability,” he explained, watching the crystal glow a soft silver-blue. “Your readings are… impressive. Very pure bloodline indicators.”

He moved on to checking my ears with a tiny penlight, being incredibly gentle with the sensitive tufts. “Snow leopard, definitely. The coloration and ear structure are textbook celestial feline. Remarkable manifestation for a first shift.”

“Celestial what?” My voice cracked. “Are you seriously telling me I’m some kind of magical space cat? Because my guidance counselor definitely didn’t prepare me for that career path.”

“Rare bloodline,” he said, making notes on a tablet that looked way more high-tech than anything I’d seen in a regular doctor’s office.

“Think supernatural royalty. Your healing rate alone…” He gestured at the shoulder bite, which was already closing.

“This should have needed stitches. Your body’s repairing itself at about ten times normal human speed. ”

“But how is this possible?” I demanded, my voice climbing toward the stratosphere. “I grew up human. I’ve always been human. I eat cereal and worry about student loans like every other normal person. Normal people don’t just grow ears!”

“Sometimes supernatural abilities are dormant until triggered by trauma or strong emotion,” Dr. Reyes explained, pulling out what looked like a crystal pendant. “May I check your energy resonance?”

I nodded, watching as he held it near my chest. The thing immediately lit up like a Christmas tree—silver and white swirls with threads of pale blue pulsing through it.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, studying the display. “Your energy patterns are incredibly stable for someone who just manifested. Usually we see more fluctuation, but you’re reading like someone who’s been shifting for years.”