Page 10 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

I’d been in love with them for years—all three of them, in different ways. But I’d locked those feelings away, convinced myself it was just hero worship, just misplaced affection.Because they were my brothers. Because they would never see me that way.

Except apparently fate had other ideas.

“Come on,” Drew said, tugging me away from the mirror. “You can’t hide in here all night. There’s a houseful of people waiting to celebrate the fact that you’ve survived nineteen years without getting yourself killed, which, given your talent for trouble, is actually impressive.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like celebrating,” I muttered, even as I allowed him to pull me toward the door.

“Too bad. I spent three hours hanging decorations and Keir ordered that fancy cake you like from Seattle. The least you can do is show up and pretend to be happy about it.”

I stopped, a thought suddenly occurring to me. “Do people know? About the ceremony?”

Drew shook his head. “Just the elders and us. Cade made it clear it wasn’t to be discussed. It’s still your birthday party, nothing else.”

Relief washed through me. The last thing I needed was an audience for this cosmic joke.

“Fine,” I sighed, straightening my shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

Drew grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “That’s the spirit. And hey, look on the bright side—if anyone gets handsy with you tonight, you’ve got three alpha werewolves ready to rip their arms off.”

“Fantastic,” I deadpanned. “Just what every nineteen-year-old dreams of—overprotective mates who don’t actually want to be mated to you.”

Drew’s smile faltered. “Finn?—”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “Really. I’ll go, I’ll smile, I’ll blow out the candles and make a wish that this is all some elaborate prank.”

But as we headed out of my room toward the sound of music and laughter drifting up from downstairs, I knew no amount of wishing would change what had happened this morning. Fate had spoken, and it had a twisted sense of humor.

I was the mate of three alpha werewolves who had never wanted me.

And the worst part? I’d been secretly in love with them for years.

The Sinclair mansion was a modern masterpiece of glass and cedar perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Pacific. Tonight, it was transformed with twinkling lights strung across the vaulted ceilings of the great room, the massive floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the ocean and night sky like a living painting. Music flowed from hidden speakers, and the scent of expensive catering mingled with the distinct notes of various shifters—mostly wolves from allied packs.

I paused at the bottom of the staircase, scanning the crowd. At least fifty people milled about, drinking, laughing, most of them unfamiliar. The Sinclairs’ social circle was vast and intimidating, full of beautiful people who all seemed to belong in a way I never quite managed.

“There’s the birthday boy!” A middle-aged woman I vaguely recognized as one of Cade’s business associates approached, air-kissing my cheeks. “Nineteen! Such an important age for young shifters.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, forcing a smile. If only she knew how “important” today had turned out to be.

Drew stayed by my side as we navigated through the crowd, accepting congratulations and deflecting the occasionaltoo-personal question about my shifting abilities. My Japanese heritage from my birth mother made me stand out among the predominantly white wolf shifters, and my mixed blood was a subject of endless fascination.

“Have you manifested your fox yet?” an elderly pack member asked, peering at me through thick glasses. “My sister’s son is half-tanuki, and he didn’t show until he was twenty!”

“Still working on it,” I said with a tight smile, silently thanking my mother’s genes for giving me the ability to maintain a pleasant expression while screaming internally.

“He’s just being modest,” Drew cut in smoothly. “You should see what he can do with a paintbrush, though—pure magic.”

I shot him a grateful look as we moved away. “Is it too late to fake food poisoning and escape to my room?”

“Yes. And stop looking like you’re planning your funeral. It’s a party.” Drew nudged me toward the drinks table. “Here, have some punch. It’s nonalcoholic, but I spiked it when Cade wasn’t looking.”

I accepted the cup, taking a small sip. “My hero.”

That’s when I saw them.

Cade stood near the fireplace, deep in conversation with several older pack members. He wore a charcoal suit that emphasized his broad shoulders, golden-brown hair perfectly styled, every inch the powerful alpha businessman. Nothing in his posture or expression betrayed that anything unusual had happened that morning.

Logan was by the French doors leading to the deck, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the crowd with his usual vigilance. His dark-blond hair was shorter than when I’d last seen him, the military cut emphasizing his strong jawline. He caught my eye across the room, nodded once, then returned to his watch.

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