Page 73 of Bound By Alphas 1: Bound

Drew winced at my attempt at humor. “Finn…”

“I’m fine,” I cut him off, softening the words with a small smile. “Really. Go be a normal college kid. I’ve got three overprotective alphas and Elena’s cooking to keep me company. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Drew warned, but he was smiling as he stood. “Text me if you need anything?”

“Yes, mom.”

After they left for the festival around four, the house fell into an unusual quiet. The brothers had disappeared to wherever alpha werewolves went to plot world domination or practice their brooding stares. Even Elena’s usual kitchen bustling had ceased, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my still-visible fox features.

I drifted up to my room, exhaustion finally outweighing my determination to prove I was fine. The events of the day swirled in my mind—the lake, the confrontation, Drew’s fierce protection, the way the brothers had united to defend me. It was too much to process.

I meant to just close my eyes for a few minutes, but when I opened them again, the late afternoon sun was casting shadows across my floor. My fox ears twitched at the silence—no sounds of Drew’s gaming, no Elena puttering in the kitchen, no brothers having silent conversations that excluded me.

The restlessness hit suddenly, an itch under my skin that made lying still impossible. My fox nature, usually content to lurk beneath the surface, seemed to pulse with unused energy. The walls of my room felt too close, too confining.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I was heading down to the beach, drawn by the sound of waves and the promise of solitude.

I should have known better than to expect anything to go as planned today.

The first moment I saw Cade in the water, I knew I was screwed. Not literally—though my traitorous mind definitely went there—but in that cosmic “the universe is laughing at me” kind of way.

He cut through the waves with powerful strokes, each movement showcasing muscles that would make Michelangelo weep. Water sluiced down his body as he emerged from the surf, looking like some ancient sea god who’d decided to grace mere mortals with his presence. Because apparently, the universe hadn’t tortured me enough today. My traitorous fox tail swished behind me with interest, completely beyond my control and utterly betraying my attempt at nonchalance.

My fingers itched for my sketchbook. The way the setting sun painted gold across his wet skin, the play of shadows in the hollows of his collarbones, the way water droplets traced paths down his chest that I desperately wanted to follow—with charcoal on paper, obviously. Not my tongue. Definitely not my tongue.

Get it together, Finn.

I should leave. I should definitely leave. My fox, however, had other ideas. It practically purred as Cade spotted me, those intense blue eyes locking on mine with predatory focus. My ears twitched forward in interest—a mortifying tell I couldn’t control. Each step he took toward me sent little shock waves through our mate bond—a connection I’d been steadfastly ignoring since the Augury.

“You should be resting,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with the ocean breeze.

“I was,” I replied, trying desperately to keep my eyes on his face and not the way water dripped from his hair onto those shoulders that really should be classified as lethal weapons. “Got restless. Thought I’d…”Watch you emerge from the ocean like some kind of wet dream come to life?“…get some air.”

I moved closer without conscious decision, drawn like a moth to a flame. My artist’s brain kicked in—a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of professional distance. My hand lifted of its own accord, fingers tracing the curve of his chest.

“You’re like a sculpture,” I murmured, letting my analytical side override the part of me that wanted to climb him like a tree. “The way the light hits here—” I traced a water droplet’s path down his pectoral, pretending my hand wasn’t shaking. “—and the shadows here. I’d need oils to capture it properly. Maybe charcoal for the darker tones…”

Cade’s breath hitched, muscles tensing under my exploring touch. The mate bond between us flared hot and bright, making it hard to remember why this was a terrible idea.

“Finn,” he warned, his voice dropping to that register that made my knees weak and my fox want to roll over and present its belly. My tail curled forward, wrapping around his leg of its own accord. Not helpful, fox. Not helpful at all.

I should stop. I should definitely stop. Instead, I continued my artistic “assessment,” fingers mapping the ridges of his abs like I was studying anatomy for figure drawing and not basically feeling up my adoptive brother on a beach.

“The composition is perfect,” I babbled, trying to maintain some pretense of professional interest. “Classical, really. Like something out of a Renaissance study of ideal male form, though they never quite captured this level of?—”

“Are you critiquing my muscles or seducing me?” Cade interrupted, amusement coloring his tone despite the tension thrumming between us.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Critiquing. Obviously. This is purely professional artistic interest. I’m simply appreciating the aesthetic value of?—”

“Obviously,” he echoed, stepping closer until I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. Water dripped from his hair onto my upturned face, and oh God, he smelled like ocean and alpha and something uniquely Cade that made my fox whimper. “And if I were to kiss you right now? Would that be purely professional too?”

My heart stuttered in my chest, and for once, my usual snark abandoned me completely. “I… that would be…”

“If you don’t want this,” Cade murmured, face inches from mine, “say so now. Otherwise, I’m going to kiss you until you forget how to breathe.”

His words sent liquid heat coursing through my veins. I should run. I should definitely run. This was exactly the kind of complication I’d been avoiding. But with Cade looming over me, water dripping onto my upturned face, the mate bond between us singing like a live wire, running was the last thing I wanted to do.

Instead, I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. My fox ears flattened against my head in submission, another betrayal by my body that I chose to ignore.

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