Page 7 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

“That’s a violation of—of everything!” I renewed my struggles, shoving against Cade’s chest. “Turn around. Now. I need to make sure he doesn’t damage anything.”

“Keir knows how to handle art,” Cade said, his grip tightening. “He’s being careful with your work.”

“That’s not the point!” I was shouting now, beyond caring how it looked. “You don’t get to decide what happens to my things! My life! Let me go!”

“No,” Cade said, the single word filled with alpha command.

I felt it like a physical force, pressing against my will, but this time anger gave me strength to resist. “I said, let. Me. GO!”

With a surge of adrenaline, I twisted out of his grip and lunged for the door handle. The SUV was moving, but I didn’t care—I’d rather risk the pavement than go back to being controlled.

Cade moved with supernatural speed, grabbing me around the waist and hauling me back. This time, there was nothing gentle about his restraint. He pinned me against the seat, one hand capturing both my wrists, the other gripping my jaw to force me to look at him.

“Enough,” he growled, eyes flashing silver—the wolf close to the surface. “You could have been hurt.”

“I don’t care,” I spat, struggling against his hold. “I’d rather jump out of a moving car than go back to being your pet project.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. “Is that what you think you were to us? A project?”

“What else? The charity case you took in? The odd one out who couldn’t shift, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t be part of the pack?” The words poured out, years of buried resentment finally finding voice. “Poor little Finn, needs to be protected and managed and controlled because he can’t possibly make his own decisions.”

“You have no idea,” Cade said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble, “what you are to us.”

A growl tore from his throat—pure predator, barely human—as he lunged forward. One hand gripped my jaw while the other fisted in my hair, yanking my head back as he claimed my mouth with bruising intensity. I tasted the wildness of him, felt the scrape of elongated canines against my lower lip.

I shoved against his chest, palms flat against the solid wall of muscle. “No—” The word died as his tongue invaded my mouth, demanding surrender.

For three desperate seconds, I fought him—fought the overwhelming tide of sensation, fought the rightness that terrified me to my core. Then something inside me shattered. A dam breaking, a wall crumbling, years of denial washing away in the flood.

My hands, which had been pushing him away, suddenly clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer. A sound escaped me—half sob, half surrender—as my body betrayed every defense I’d built.

Heat exploded through me, a wildfire racing from my lips to every extremity. His scent—cedar and rain and alpha male—filled my lungs, drowning me in need and recognition. His grip tightened, possessive and unyielding, as if daring me to pull away again.

I couldn’t. God help me, I couldn’t.

His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting, claiming, and I welcomed him with a hunger that shocked me with its intensity. The kiss was everything I’d been running from—demanding, primal, perfect. His teeth caught my lower lip, biting just hard enough to remind me who was in control before his tongue soothed the sting.

I moaned into his mouth, a sound of surrender I couldn’t hold back. His wolf responded with a rumbling purr of satisfaction that vibrated through his chest and into mine.

The sensation catapulted me back to that day on the beach four years ago. It wasn’t just a tentative kiss then—it had been so much more.

The memory flooded back with visceral clarity: Cade’s hands sliding under my shirt, his mouth hot against my neck, my body arching against his. Logan and Keir finding us, their eyes flaring with hunger. Three pairs of hands, three mouths, three powerful bodies surrounding me.

“Ours,” they’d whispered as they touched me, each caress igniting fire under my skin. I’d surrendered completely that day—and many more times after—letting them bring me to heights I’d never imagined possible. Their hands and mouths had claimed every inch of me, drawing sounds I didn’t know I could make, leaving me trembling and marked.

I’d run when I got the chance, unable to face what it meant. Unable to bear the thought that it was just biology to them—an inconvenient mate bond they hadn’t asked for. I’d heard them talking later, when they thought I couldn’t hear. Logan’s voice, irritated: “How can it be him? He’s just a kid, a bratty little fox who can barely control his shift.” Keir’s response, resigned: “Fate has a twisted sense of humor.” And Cade, always the responsible one: “We have a duty to him.”

A duty. Not desire. Not love. Just obligation.

Cade’s hand slid under my shirt now, palm scorching against my skin, fingers digging into my lower back as he pulled me impossibly closer. His other hand maintained its grip in my hair, controlling the angle of the kiss, demanding complete submission. I gave it to him, melting against the hard planes of his body like I belonged there.

I’d been in love with them for as long as I could remember—all three of them, in different ways. Cade with his quiet strength. Logan with his fierce protectiveness. Keir with his playful charm.I’d spent years telling myself it was just admiration, just family affection, just anything but what it really was.

Love. Desperate, hopeless, forbidden love.

When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathing hard. His eyes had shifted to silver, the wolf perilously close to the surface. I stared at him in shock, lips stinging, body humming with a need I’d spent years denying.

“That,” he said roughly, voice barely human, “is what you are to us. Not a project. Not a charity case. Ours.”

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