Page 9 of Captivated By Alphas 1, Fated (The Blood Moon Chronicle #4)
CARMICHAEL COUSINS
Every nerve ending ignited where their skin met, and maintaining his human appearance became excruciating—his bones ached with the need to shift, to claim, to complete the mating that his instincts demanded.
He could feel his canines lengthening against his will and had to swallow hard to force them back.
“Careful,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a seductive rumble that vibrated from his chest straight into his mate’s.
His eyes locked with those extraordinary lavender-blue ones, a dangerous sparkle dancing in his own blue depths as he fought to keep the gold from bleeding through.
“Though I have to say, falling for me this quickly is a bit forward, even by Hollywood standards.”
Up close, the scent was devastating—pure and complex and maddening.
His mate’s skin was warm against his, that lean-muscled chest pressed to Jace’s, heartbeat racing so fast Jace could not only feel it but hear it with his enhanced senses.
The rapid staccato rhythm called to his predator’s instincts—vulnerable, excited, aroused.
His body responded instantly, powerfully.
Jace made no attempt to hide his arousal—quite the opposite.
His panther wanted their mate to know exactly how desirable they found him, wanted to display his virility, his strength, his readiness to claim.
It took every ounce of his considerable willpower not to bend his mate backward over the vanity and claim those parted lips with his own, to not lift him bodily and carry him to the bed where he could properly stake his claim.
Take him now, his panther urged, nearly mad with need. He’s ours. OURS. Mark him. Claim him. NOW.
“You’re early,” his mate finally managed, voice breathless in a way that made Jace’s panther purr with satisfaction.
Of all the things to say while pressed naked against a stranger, that was unexpected enough to pierce through Jace’s haze of primal need.
His lips curved into the smile that had launched a thousand fan sites, though behind it, his panther paced and snarled.
“Clearly my timing is impeccable,” he said, making absolutely no move to cover himself as his eyes deliberately traced every inch of his mate’s exposed skin.
“Should I come back later, or would you prefer to continue this delightfully unexpected welcome home?”
His mate’s pale skin flushed pink, the color spreading down his throat to his chest like watercolor on wet paper.
The sight nearly undid Jace’s control—his mate’s body responding to him, displaying arousal that matched the sweet-sharp scent now mingling with the winter purity.
His panther growled in satisfaction, recognizing the physical signs of mutual attraction.
He wants us, the beast purred. Can smell it. See it. Feel it. Take him NOW.
His mate suddenly seemed to realize their position—pressed chest to chest, Jace’s arms around his waist, faces inches apart.
And Jace, completely naked, making no attempt to hide his interest. Jace could have held him there indefinitely, could have lowered his head those few crucial inches and tasted those parted lips, claimed that first kiss that his panther was screaming for.
Instead, he allowed his mate to extract himself, though his hands lingered at that narrow waist longer than necessary, memorizing the feel of taut muscle beneath soft skin.
When his mate nearly slipped again, Jace’s hands tightened reflexively, his protective instincts flaring alongside his possessive ones.
“I’m so sorry,” his mate babbled, voice higher than before. “There was a cleaning accident—the shower just exploded. I was trying to dry my shirt. I didn’t hear you come in because of the music—”
“Breathe,” Jace interrupted, his thumb brushing dangerously close to his mate’s hip bone as he steadied him. “Trust me, this is infinitely better than the red-carpet welcome I was expecting. Less scripted, more… revealing.”
“I should go,” his mate said, stepping farther back. This time Jace let him go, though his panther howled in protest, clawing at his insides to reclaim what was theirs. “I’m sorry about the mess. And for being in your bathroom. And for being… undressed.”
Jace couldn’t resist letting his eyes feast on his mate’s body, taking in the elegant lines, the unexpected definition of lean muscle across his abdomen, the slight jut of hip bones above wet jeans that clung like a second skin.
His panther memorized every detail, cataloging their mate’s perfection.
“I’m definitely not complaining about the view,” he said, voice dropping to a husky whisper.
“In fact, I might need to thank my mother for her excellent staffing choices. Her taste is usually impeccable, but this time she’s outdone herself. ”
The flush deepened, and Jace’s sensitive nose detected the spike in his mate’s arousal—sweet and sharp beneath the winter scent.
His mate found him attractive. The knowledge sent a surge of primitive satisfaction through him, his panther preening and displaying despite still being locked beneath his human form.
“I’ll just…” His mate gestured vaguely toward a soaked t-shirt draped over the towel rack.
An opportunity to provide for his mate, Jace’s panther pounced on the chance. This primal instinct to provide, to care for what was his, overrode even his desire to keep Eli pressed against him.
“Wait here,” he said, voice dropping to that intimate register that had made countless co-stars forget their lines.
Jace turned away with calculated precision, a move he’d never bother with on any film set, no matter how revealing the scene.
This wasn’t acting—this was hunting, seducing, claiming.
Each step was choreographed for maximum impact as he moved toward the bedroom.
He deliberately slowed his pace, allowing his shoulders to roll with predatory grace, the muscles of his back rippling beneath golden skin.
His panther knew exactly how to display its power—the subtle flex of his obliques with each step, the controlled power in his thighs, the perfect posture that showcased everything he had to offer.
He felt Eli’s gaze like a physical touch trailing down his spine, lingering where his waist narrowed before flaring to his hips.
Jace allowed himself a small satisfied smile that no camera would ever capture—this wasn’t his practiced Hollywood charm but something far more primitive.
His panther was showing its mate exactly what awaited him, presenting its strength and virility with shameless intent.
Let him see what we offer, his panther purred. Strong. Powerful. Perfect mate.
In his bedroom, Jace’s eyes landed on his luggage, which the staff had already brought up and placed beside the bed.
Perfect. He unzipped the largest case with swift, efficient movements, bypassing the neatly folded designer clothes his stylist had packed.
His panther demanded something more personal, more intimate.
He reached for a navy-blue t-shirt near the bottom of the case—one he’d worn often in private at home, one that carried his most authentic scent, not the cologne he wore for the public but his true essence.
His panther purred with satisfaction at the choice. The garment would envelop Eli in Jace’s potent scent, a subtle claiming that would linger for hours. Mark him, the beast urged. Let others know he’s protected. OURS.
Jace returned to the bathroom, still gloriously naked and making no effort to cover himself.
He held the shirt casually in one hand, his stance wide and confident as he filled the doorway.
His eyes tracked Eli’s reaction with predatory focus, noting the quickened breaths, the dilated pupils, the way those lavender-blue eyes darted down his body before snapping guiltily back to his face.
“Here,” he said, his voice a seductive rumble as he offered the shirt. “It’ll be big, but at least it’s dry.” And it will mark you as mine, his panther added silently, anticipation building at the thought of his scent wrapping around Eli’s slender frame.
The sight of those eyes darting between his face and his body, desperately trying and failing to stay above waist level, sent another surge of satisfaction through him.
His mate was affected by him, wanted him, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.
Jace could smell the sweet-sharp spike of arousal cutting through Eli’s winter-pure scent.
“I can’t take your clothes,” his mate protested weakly, but his fingers twitched with obvious desire to reach out.
“Would you prefer to walk through the house shirtless?” Jace asked, one eyebrow raised in challenge while his panther snarled in protest at the very thought.
The beast within him bristled at the mere suggestion of others seeing what belonged to him alone.
“Not that I’d object to the view, but I imagine it might cause quite a stir.
” The possessive growl building in his chest was barely suppressed, his canines threatening to lengthen at the thought of other eyes appreciating what was his.
MINE, his panther growled. No one else sees. No one.
His mate’s cheeks burned hotter. “When you put it that way…” He took the shirt.
Jace watched, transfixed, as his mate pulled the shirt over his head.
The sight of him wearing Jace’s clothes, surrounded by his scent, marked by his possession in this small way, sent a wave of primitive satisfaction through him so powerful that his eyes briefly flashed gold before he could control them.
The shirt hung almost to his mate’s knees, the sleeves reaching his elbows, making him look both vulnerable and claimed in a way that satisfied some deep, primal part of Jace’s nature.
Good, his panther rumbled. Ours now. Everyone will know.
“Better?” he asked, that amused half smile playing on his lips while his eyes conveyed something far more dangerous than amusement.