The Billionaire Alpha's Hidden Luna

Chapter 5: Mate

Ryan Blackwood was losing his mind.

He knew this with absolute certainty because Jason would not stop pointing it out every single second.

"You're pacing," Jason said.

Ryan ignored him, his boots clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor of the private holding suite.

"You never pace."

Silence.

"You're usually the guy who makes other people pace."

Still silence.

Jason grinned, leaning back into his chair with a look of pure entertainment. "This is honestly incredible. I've never seen you sweat over anything."

Ryan stopped dead in his tracks, turning a sharp glare toward his cousin. "Would you like to die today, Jason?"

Jason looked thoughtful for a brief moment. "No, not particularly."

"Then stop talking."

"Can't," Jason shrugged. "The suspense is killing me anyway."

Ryan let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. His inner wolf was restless. No, restless wasn't the right word. The beast was practically climbing the stone walls inside his skull.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

The word had been echoing endlessly through his mind, vibrating through his bones since the exact microsecond he had laid eyes on Emily's photograph in that folder. It hadn't stopped. Not once. Not for a single fraction of a second. His wolf had become completely, ruthlessly obsessed.

And now, she was finally here.

Somewhere directly below them. Walking through the hotel lobby. Breathing the same recycled air. Existing in the very same building.

Ryan could actually feel it in his blood—a strange, magnetic pull. A heavy, invisible connection tightening between his ribs, drawing him toward her with every passing second.

Jason slouched further in his seat. "You know, normal people just get a little nervous before a first date."

"This isn't a date," Ryan ground out, his jaw tight.

Jason burst out laughing so hard he nearly tumbled right out of the leather chair. Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, his temper frayed to a razor-thin wire.

The heavy oak door opened, and Damien entered the lounge. Immediately, Ryan straightened his spine, his eyes flashing. "Well?"

Damien’s expression remained perfectly neutral, though his sharp eyes noted the tension in the room. "She's in the main lobby. She just passed the check-in desk."

MATE.

Ryan’s wolf surged violently against his ribs, baring its teeth. Mine.

His pulse jumped, a dangerous, erratic rhythm hammering against his chest. Jason noticed the sudden, rigid stiffness in his cousin's posture.

"Oh my God," Jason whispered, his eyes widening. He pointed a dramatic finger. "You're excited. The untouchable Ryan Blackwood is actually excited."

"No," Ryan muttered coldly.

"You are."

"No, Jason."

"You absolutely, unconditionally are."

Damien looked between the two cousins, shook his head, and wisely turned around to leave the lounge before either of them dragged him into the petty argument.

Jason shook his head, a smirk plastering his face. "This is a beautiful moment in history."

Ryan seriously considered throwing him out of the tinted glass window. Unfortunately, they were family, and cleaning up the public relations mess would take too long.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Emily Hart was currently experiencing what medical experts would refer to as a complete, unmitigated emotional disaster.

Everything in this hotel was far too shiny.

The polished marble floors. The gold-trimmed walls. The massive crystal chandeliers dripping from the vaulted ceilings. Even the people walking past her looked wildly expensive, their skin glowing and their clothes tailored perfectly.

A woman glided past Emily, carrying a handbag that probably cost more than Emily's entire three-year university existence.

Emily swallowed hard, her throat dry. Maybe she should just leave. Yes. Turning around and sprinting back to her tiny dorm room sounded absolutely wonderful right now.

She spun on her heel toward the glass revolving doors—and immediately froze.

The image of her mother’s pale face on the hospital bed flashed behind her eyes. Her mother's tired, fragile smile. The oncologist's worried expression. The heavy stack of past-due tuition and medical notices currently sitting inside her canvas backpack.

Emily closed her eyes, drawing in a sharp breath. No. She couldn't run away. Not this time. She desperately needed the agency's money, even if every single protective human instinct inside her was screaming at her to flee.

A hotel employee in a crisp uniform approached her. "Miss Hart?"

Emily nearly jumped right out of her six-dollar clearance shoes. "Yes?"

"This way, please. Your client is waiting."

"Okay," Emily whispered. She followed him through the crowded lounge, trying very hard to walk with some semblance of grace.

Unfortunately, trying and succeeding were two entirely different concepts in Emily’s life.

Her heel caught on absolutely nothing on the flat marble floor. She stumbled forward, her arms windmilling wildly through the air. Through some miracle, she managed to catch her balance before hitting the ground, smoothing down her navy gown.

She pretended nothing had happened.

The employee had definitely seen it. Emily had definitely seen him see it. Neither of them mentioned it. The silence that followed was deeply, painfully awkward.

Several floors above, Ryan suddenly froze in the middle of the corridor.

Jason frowned, stopping behind him. "What is it?"

Ryan inhaled slowly through his nose, his chest expanding. Then he did it again.

A scent was cutting through the heavy air. Sweet. Warm. Soft.

Vanilla. Fresh rain. Sunlight. Home.

MATE.

His inner beast exploded inside his soul, letting out a thunderous roar. Ryan’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating. She was closer. Much closer.

His large hands clenched into fists at his sides, his entire frame going rigid as stone. The invisible bond was becoming stronger, vibrating through his veins with every passing second.

Jason immediately noticed the change, his playfulness vanishing. "Ryan?"

No response.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Ryan looked toward the double doors of the grand ballroom at the end of the hall. Every single primal instinct inside his blood was screaming the exact same command. Go. Find her. Now.

His wolf practically howled behind his ribs. MINE.

Ryan took a deep, stabilizing breath, forcing his human composure back into place. Control. He desperately needed control. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was walk in there and terrify her on their first meeting. Because judging by the detailed file Damien had pulled... Emily Hart frightened easily.

He remembered every single detail from her paperwork. A literature student. Juggling three jobs. Flawless attendance record. No criminal history, no scandals, no corporate drama. Just a young human woman carrying far too much heavy responsibility on her small shoulders.

Ryan's chest tightened with a strange, heavy ache. He thought about her mounting medical debt. The sheer sacrifices she had made for her family. And for the first time in years, a dark anger stirred deep within his blood. Not at her—at life. Because someone as gentle and hardworking as Emily should never have had to struggle that much alone.

When the grand ballroom doors opened for her, Emily immediately wanted to cry.

There were so many people. Why on earth were there so many people? Was this an exclusive client dinner or a royal gathering?

She reached up and nervously adjusted her glasses, then adjusted them again, and again, before remembering she was wearing contact lenses. Sophie would have been laughing historically right now. Hard. Emily missed her roommate already.

The massive room buzzed with high-society conversation. Expensive champagne glasses clinked together, and soft classical music drifted through the air. People smiled, talked, and laughed about things Emily didn't comprehend. Stocks. Market investments. Luxury real estate. Meanwhile, she was staring at a tray of tiny appetizers, genuinely wondering whether they counted as actual food. One bite disappeared into her mouth. She blinked. That was it? Rich people were genuinely strange.

Then, Ryan saw her.

And the entire universe stopped spinning.

The classical music faded into background noise. The chattering voices completely vanished. The surrounding world disappeared into a blur.

Emily stood near the grand entrance, looking small, overwhelmed, and completely beautiful. Not because of the designer dress or the professional makeup, but because she was entirely real. For long, lonely years, she had existed only in his dreams—as fragments, fleeting memories, and possibilities. Now, she was standing only a few feet away from him.

His queen. His fated mate.

MATE.

His wolf let out a roar so thunderous and heavy that the pure force of the bond nearly brought Ryan to his knees. Mine.

Ryan gripped the edge of a nearby display table to steady his legs. Hard. Very hard.

CRACK.

The solid oak wood splintered under his bare fingers.

Jason stared at his cousin's hand, his jaw dropping. "Oh."

CRACK. Another splinter tore through the table.

"Oh, yeah, that's definitely not good," Jason muttered, backing away.

Ryan couldn't look away if his life depended on it. The agency photograph hadn't prepared him for this. The dreams hadn't prepared him. Nothing had. Because right then, Emily turned and offered a soft, slightly awkward smile to a nervous waiter who had almost dropped a tray.

And somehow, that simple, gentle smile hit Ryan harder than the supernatural mate bond itself. There was something so warm about it. Something entirely genuine. No social calculation. No manipulation. No hidden corporate agenda. Just pure, effortless kindness.

Ryan's chest tightened painfully. Mate.

Emily finally looked up across the crowded room.

Their eyes met through the space.

Oh. Emily’s breath hitched in her throat. Oh no.

That was him. Ryan Blackwood. The executive from the agency files. The ridiculously handsome man from the photographs. Except he was much taller in person. Unfairly taller. Broad-shouldered and commanding.

Emily stared, frozen. Then she immediately looked away, her cheeks burning. Then, she accidentally looked back—which was ten times worse. Because now, he was actively walking straight toward her.

Toward her. Not the models or the socialites. Her.

"Oh God," she whispered to herself.

A waiter nearby looked at her with concern. "Are you alright, Miss?" Emily completely ignored him, her eyes locked on the approaching predator.

Ryan stopped directly in front of her, his massive shadow completely swallowing her. For several agonizing seconds, neither of them spoke a word.

Ryan was currently busy trying to remember how human language actually worked. Emily was busy trying to remember how to breathe without fainting.

Finally, his velvet baritone broke the silence. "Hello, Emily."

Her brown eyes widened behind her long lashes. He knew her name. Of course he knew her name, you i***t, she scolded herself internally. This was literally a pre-arranged exclusive meeting. Why was she surprised? Because her brain had entirely ceased functioning, that's why.

"Hi," she whispered.

Excellent. A brilliant, flawless response. Ten out of ten for vocabulary, Emily.

The corner of Ryan's lips twitched upward. The sudden, dark smile nearly stopped Emily's heart altogether. Dangerous. He was far too dangerous.

"You look nervous," he noted softly.

"I am," the honest answer escaped her lips before her pride could stop it.

Ryan blinked, slightly surprised by her bluntness. Emily groaned internally, wishing a hole would open in the marble. "Sorry."

"For being nervous?"

"No," she let out a small sigh, looking up at him. "For saying literally every single thought that enters my head out loud."

A sudden laugh escaped him. A real, rich, deep laugh that rumbled from his chest. It was warm and entirely unexpected. Emily stared at him, her heart fluttering. The sound suited his features far too much.

"Don't apologize for that," Ryan murmured, his golden undertones softening. "Trust me, I prefer it."

Emily adjusted her imaginary glasses out of pure habit. "I should probably learn some restraint."

Ryan's smile widened. And suddenly, something impossible happened inside his chest. His restless, roaring wolf completely calmed down. Not entirely, but enough to let him breathe. Because she was finally here. Talking to him. Smiling. Existing right in front of him. And somehow, for the first time in his entire life, everything felt completely right.

Ryan held out his large, open hand toward her. "Shall we get some dinner?"

Emily looked down at his palm. Then up at his dark eyes. Then back down at his hand. Her heart was racing like a speed car. This was crazy. Absolutely, unconditionally crazy. But she needed this contract. Her mother needed this survival chance.

Slowly, carefully, she reached out and placed her small hand flat into his palm.

The exact millisecond their bare skin touched—

MATE!

The thunderous, seismic roar exploded through Ryan's mind with the force of a nuclear bomb. The fated energy snapped between them like a live electric wire.

Ryan's eyes flashed a brilliant, blinding, lethal gold.

The crystal champagne glass he was holding in his free hand violently shattered into a million tiny pieces under the sudden spike of his internal pressure.

CRASH!

The entire grand ballroom fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.

The corporate conversations stopped dead. The classical music abruptly halted. Dozens of high-society heads turned uniformly toward them.

Emily jumped backward in terror, her hand ripping away from his. Ryan froze, his jaw locked as he desperately forced the gold back out of his eyes. Over by the wall, Jason nearly let out a visible scream of panic.

Emily stared down at the sharp shards of broken glass scattered all over the polished marble floor. Then, she slowly raised her head, looking up at Ryan with wide, completely bewildered brown eyes.

"What... what did I do?" she whispered, terrified she had already ruined the arrangement.

Ryan’s dark eyes locked onto her face, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to pull her back into his arms.

And for the very first time, looking at the broken glass and the powerful man before her, Emily felt a strange, heavy vibration rattle deep within her own soul. It wasn't fear. It wasn't curiosity. It wasn't even standard human attraction. It was something ancient, dark, and deep—a tectonic shifting in her bloodline that she couldn't yet understand.