Page 57 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

“What are you doing here?” I asked, pulling my blanket higher despite the heat. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs entertaining your guests?”

“I’m here to collect what’s mine,” he replied, pushing off the doorframe with that predatory grace that made my mouth go dry.

“What’s yours?” I repeated, genuinely confused for a moment before memory crashed back. The bet. The racing game. The cheating. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mimicked, his smile visible even in the dim light. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”

I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. “I’m already sleeping. Rain check.”

“Nice try.” The bed dipped as he sat beside me, his hand coming to rest on my back. Even through the blanket, his touch sent warmth spreading across my skin. “A bet’s a bet, little fox.”

“I’m comfortable here,” I protested, voice muffled by the pillow. “My pets are settled. It’s the middle of the night.”

“It’s barely eleven,” he countered, his hand moving in slow circles on my back. “And your pets can come too.”

I turned my head just enough to glare at him with one eye. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.” His smile widened, and without warning, he pulled back my covers and scooped me into his arms in one fluid motion.

“What are you—put me down!” I squawked, suddenly very aware of how little I was wearing as my shirt rode up my thighs. “I can walk, you Neanderthal!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, adjusting his grip so that I was cradled against his chest like some damsel in a bodice-ripper novel. “Besides, you might try to escape.”

“I wouldn’t—” I began, then stopped because we both knew that was exactly what I’d do. “This is undignified.”

“You look perfectly dignified to me,” he replied, his eyes dropping to where my shirt had slipped off my shoulder. “Very dignified.”

I should have fought harder. Should have demanded he put me down. Instead, I relaxed against him, my head coming to rest on his shoulder as if it belonged there. He smelled like cedar and something distinctly Keir—a scent that had always made me feel safe, even when I was trying my hardest to avoid it.

“The pets are coming too,” I muttered, a token protest as he carried me toward the door.

“Of course,” he agreed, pausing in the doorway. “Mochi, Pixel, Boba—come.”

All three animals immediately perked up, following us with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Boba’s snorts echoed down the hallway as we made our way through the mansion, past Drew’s room where I could still hear laughter, and toward the opposite wing where the brothers’ suites were located.

I’d almost forgotten how different this part of the house was. While my wing was cozy and warm, the brothers’ was grand and imposing—all high ceilings and ornate moldings. Keir’s suite dominated the west side, a stunning blend of classic architecture and modern luxury spread across two floors.

“Show-off,” I mumbled as he carried me through the entrance.

The lower level opened into a magnificent sitting room where old-world elegance met cutting-edge technology. Hand-carved wooden panels concealed state-of-the-art entertainment systems, while crystal chandeliers cast warm light over velvet couches and antique accent pieces. A grand piano occupied one corner, its polished surface reflecting the glow from a marble fireplace.

His office, visible through French doors, was a testament to both beauty and function—leather-bound books sharing space with holographic displays, and a massive desk carved from a single piece of mahogany housing enough computing power to run a small country.

A sweeping staircase led to his private quarters above, where floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the ocean and mountains beyond. The bedroom itself was a masterpiece of understated opulence—vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, silk wallpaper, and ambient lighting that adjusted automatically to the time of day.

Unlike my cluttered space, Keir’s bedroom achieved perfect balance—a massive four-poster bed draped in Egyptian cotton and silk dominated one wall, while custom bookshelves lined another, housing first editions behind climate-controlled glass. A sitting area near the windows featured buttery-soft leather chairs and a hidden TV that rose from an antique cabinet at the touch of a button.

The en suite bathroom was pure indulgence—heated marble floors, a shower with multiple heads and digital controls, and a sunken tub positioned to watch the sunset over the ocean. Everything spoke of careful curation, each piece selected to create an atmosphere of timeless sophistication.

He set me down on the bed with surprising gentleness, his hands lingering at my waist for a moment longer than necessary. The pets immediately made themselves at home—Boba claiming a plush dog bed in the corner that looked suspiciously new, Mochi jumping onto the foot of the bed, and Pixel exploring the bookshelves with her usual disdain for gravity.

“You’ve been planning this,” I accused, noticing the dog bed and what looked like a cat tree in the corner. “Those weren’t here before.”

Keir shrugged, the movement drawing my attention to his shoulders. “I like to be prepared.”

“For kidnapping me and my pets?”

“For having you where you belong,” he corrected, his voice dropping to that register that made my insides turn to liquid.

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