THE CEO'S BLOOD MOON BRIDE MATE

The silver-plated hands of the grandfather clock in Ethan Vance’s penthouse office didn't just tick; they counted down. In exactly thirty-six hours, the Blood Moon would reach its zenith. For the Alpha of the Obsidian Ridge Pack—who also happened to be the billionaire CEO of Vance Global—it was the most dangerous night of the year. The celestial event triggered a primal, agonizing urge to claim a mate. If an Alpha remained unmated during a Blood Moon cycle, the sheer pressure of his wolf’s feral energy could tear his mind apart. Ethan gripped the edge of his mahogany desk, his knuckles turning white. Beneath his tailored Tom Ford suit, his muscles flexed against his will. His eyes flashed a dangerous, luminescent gold before he forced the beast back down. "The Board is insisting, Ethan," Richard, his Beta and Chief Operating Officer, said from across the room. Richard looked exhausted, holding a tablet displaying a dossier. "Victoria Laurent is a purebred Alpha female. She’s strong, her lineage is impeccable, and her father’s pack controls the northern shipping routes. The Board has already drafted the mating contract." "The Board cares about mergers, not my wolf," Ethan growled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that rattled the crystal decanters on the side table. "They care about stability," Richard corrected gently. "If you lose control during the Blood Moon, the stock price won't be the only thing that plummets. You need a mate to anchor you. Victoria is willing. It’s a perfect arrangement." "An arrangement," Ethan sneered. He didn't want an arrangement. But as his wolf clawed at his ribs, demanding a partner, he knew his options were running out. "Tell them I’ll review the contract tonight." "Thank you." Richard sighed in relief and turned to leave. "Oh, and your 3:00 PM is waiting outside. I'll have her bring in the quarterlies." Clara Sterling stood outside the double doors of the executive suite, taking deep, steadying breaths. She pressed a flat palm against her stomach. It was still perfectly flat, but beneath her skin, a tiny, impossible secret was growing. Positive. The word had stared back at her from the plastic stick in her bathroom just three hours ago. She was pregnant. And the father was currently sitting on the other side of those doors—her brooding, untouchable, workaholic boss. It had been a mistake. One rainy night three weeks ago, working late to finalize the Laurent acquisition, the tension that had simmered between them for two years finally snapped. It had been a night of breathless whispers, fierce hands, and a passion so intense it scared her. The next morning, Ethan had been his usual stoic, professional self, and Clara had gladly hidden behind her duties, assuming it was a one-time lapse in judgment. But biology had other plans. "You can do this," Clara whispered to herself, smoothing down her pencil skirt. "Just get through the afternoon. Do not throw up on his expensive rug." She picked up the leather-bound folder of quarterly reports, knocked twice, and pushed the door open. The moment Clara stepped into the office, the air in the room shifted. Ethan’s head snapped up. To any human, Clara smelled of lavender lotion and rain. But to Ethan’s heightened werewolf senses, her scent was suddenly overwhelming. It filled his lungs, sweet and intoxicating, but today, there was an underlying note that made his heart stop. It was the scent of fertile earth, of a blooming spark... and the unmistakable, faint pheromone of his own bloodline. His wolf, which had been pacing restlessly in the dark corners of his mind, suddenly stood on high alert, letting out a deafening, possessive roar. MATE. OURS. Ethan stood up so fast his leather chair rolled back and slammed into the glass window behind him. His eyes locked onto Clara. "Mr. Vance?" Clara stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening slightly at his intense gaze. She gripped the folder tighter against her chest, a protective, instinctual gesture that did not escape his notice. "I have the Q3 financial reports you requested. And... the board sent over the Laurent contract." "Put them down, Clara," Ethan said, his voice dropping an octave. He walked around the desk, his movements predatory, slow, and deliberate. Clara swallowed hard, stepping back until her spine met the closed door. "Is everything alright? You look... flushed." He didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind was spinning. The Blood Moon was tomorrow, and his wolf was rejecting the very idea of Victoria Laurent. It wanted her. It wanted the quiet, brilliant, fiercely independent human woman who had managed his life for the last two years. He stopped mere inches from her. The heat radiating off his body was palpable. Ethan reached out, his large hand trembling slightly as his fingers brushed a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. Clara gasped, a soft sound that sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core. "Ethan," she whispered, dropping the professional title in her panic. "We agreed... we wouldn't do this at work." "Clara," he murmured, his golden eyes searching hers, burning with an intensity that made her knees weak. He tilted his head, leaning down to press his nose against the sensitive pulse point on her neck. He inhaled deeply, confirming what his wolf already knew. He caught the scent of her fear, her desire, and beneath it all, the tiny, fragile heartbeat of a pup. His pup. Ethan's breath hitched. He stepped back, his eyes wide with shock as he looked down at her stomach, and then back up to her face. "You're pregnant," he breathed, the realization striking him like a physical blow. Clara’s face went pale. She pulled her folder tighter against her abdomen, her voice trembling. "I—I can explain. I wasn't going to make a scene, Ethan. I know about the board, I know about Victoria... I can resign. You don't have to worry about—" "Resign?" Ethan cut her off, his voice cracking with a mix of awe and possessive fury. He closed the distance between them again, trapping her against the door by placing his hands on either side of her head. The sky outside the high-rise window was already beginning to take on a faint, ominous crimson hue, but for the first time in his life, Ethan wasn't afraid of the Blood Moon. "You aren't going anywhere, Clara," Ethan growled softly, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "And the Board can burn their contract. Because tomorrow night, you're becoming my bride."