Page 116 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

“Then it’s time he learned,” Elder Takoda said firmly. “The boy must be brought home. All six must be gathered and protected.”

Cade exchanged glances with his brothers, seeing his own determination mirrored in their eyes. “We leave for Seattle tonight,” he decided, straightening to his full height. “Drew is already there. He’ll help us locate Finn.”

“And if he resists?” Elder Wu asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

“He’s our mate,” Cade said simply. “We’re bringing him home.”

As the meeting concluded and the elders departed, the three brothers remained in the council chamber, the weight of what was to come settling over them.

“He’s going to be furious,” Keir said, breaking the silence. “Four years of independence, and now we’re dragging him back into a supernatural war.”

“He’ll understand once we explain,” Logan argued, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Will he?” Cade asked quietly. “We’ve kept the truth from him his entire life. About his parents. About what he is. About the danger that’s always been stalking him.”

The guilt he’d carried for years felt heavier now. They’d adopted Finn when he was eight, after his parents were killed in what they’d told him was a car accident. In reality, they’d been targeted by the Shadow Harvesters for their rare kitsune-wolf hybrid energy. The Sinclairs had taken in their orphaned son, raising him as their own while hiding his true heritage from him.

And then, when the mate bond had revealed itself, they’d kept even more secrets—about the pre-marking that had beenperformed when Finn was just a child, about the prophecy that had always linked him to darker forces.

“We did what we thought was right,” Logan said, his hand falling on Cade’s shoulder. “To protect him.”

“And now we have to do what’s right again,” Keir added. “Even if he hates us for it.”

Cade nodded, decision crystallizing into resolve. “We leave in an hour.”

As his brothers moved to comply, Cade walked to the window, staring out at the darkening sky. Somewhere in Seattle, Finn was living the life he’d chosen—the life they’d allowed him to have, watching from a distance, aching for him while respecting his boundaries.

That ended tonight.

“We’re coming, little fox,” he murmured to the gathering darkness. “Whether you’re ready or not.”

The sleek black SUV pulled to a stop across the street from Moonlight Brew, a modestly charming café tucked between a bookstore and a vintage clothing shop. The Seattle afternoon buzzed with typical energy—people hurrying along rain-slicked sidewalks, the constant hum of traffic, the lingering scent of coffee and wet pavement.

But the three men in the vehicle noticed none of it. Their attention was fixed solely on the slender figure visible through the café’s large front window.

“He’s grown,” Keir murmured, his eyes never leaving Finn as he moved behind the counter. “Filled out a bit.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Still too thin.”

Cade said nothing, drinking in the sight of their mate after four years of surveillance photos and Drew’s reports. Finn had indeed changed—his features had matured from pretty to striking. The soft curves of his face had given way to more defined angles—high cheekbones, a jawline that had firmed with age, lips that remained full and expressive as they curved into a smile for a customer.

His frame was still delicate but with a new confidence in how he carried himself. No longer a boy playing at independence, but a young man who had carved out his own place in the world.

The pre-marking scar on Finn’s hip—invisible beneath his clothes but eternally present in their bond—pulsed with renewed energy as the distance between them narrowed. Four years of stretched connection suddenly contracting, pulling taut like a fishing line with a catch on the end.

“Do you feel that?” Logan asked, his voice rough with emotion. “The bond. It’s…”

“Stronger than ever,” Keir finished. “He’s been hiding from it, but it never faded.”

Through the window, they watched as Finn handed a cup to an elderly woman, his slender artist’s fingers—fingers that had once traced patterns on their skin, that had clutched at their shoulders in passion—now adorned with small calluses and faint stains of paint or ink. Working hands. Creating hands. Hands they ached to feel again.

“Look at his eyes,” Cade said, breaking his silence as Finn turned toward the window, giving them a clear view of his face. “They’re changing.”

The amber-gold eyes that had always been Finn’s most striking feature now held flecks of something brighter, something that caught the light with an almost supernatural gleam when he moved a certain way. His fox nature, growing stronger despite his efforts to suppress it.

“His powers are manifesting,” Keir said, concern edging his voice. “Elder Wu was right. If we can see it…”

“So can they,” Logan growled, the protective alpha in him surging to the surface. “We should have brought him home months ago.”

---