The billionaire's fated luna

Chapter 4

POV: David

The champagne glass shattered on the marble floor, but David barely registered the sound.

His silver-gray eyes were locked on the woman across the room, and the world had narrowed to a single point of focus.

Her chestnut hair was twisted into an elegant bun, a few soft strands framing her delicate face. Her green dress clung to her curves, modest but devastating. Her eyes—warm brown, wide with confusion—were fixed on him.

And his wolf was going absolutely insane.

Mate, the beast howled, thrashing against David's iron control. MATE!

"Stop," David growled under his breath, his hands clenching at his sides. "Stop it, now."

But the wolf wouldn't listen. It had never acted like this before, never been so desperate, so frantic, so utterly certain. It was like a wild animal trapped in his chest, clawing to get out, to run to her, to claim her.

His feet started moving before he gave them permission.

Ethan's voice came from somewhere behind him. "Sir, what are you doing?"

David ignored him. He couldn't stop. Every step toward her felt like a step toward his own destruction, but he couldn't stop.

His body was no longer his to command. It belonged to her—to this woman, this stranger, this mate he'd never wanted and never believed would find him.

She was still frozen by the stage, her champagne glass in pieces at her feet. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. She looked terrified.

Good. She should be.

He stopped a few feet away, close enough to see the pulse fluttering in her throat, to smell the delicate scent of honey and vanilla that clung to her skin. His wolf howled in approval.

"Ms. Sinclair?" A woman's voice came from somewhere nearby. "Ms. Sinclair, are you alright?"

David's gaze was locked on her. He watched her try to speak, watched her struggle to form words that wouldn't come. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped.

And then, before he could stop himself, he reached for her.

His hand closed around her wrist.

The moment their skin touched, the world exploded.

Heat seared through David's palm, up his arm, straight into his chest. The bond ignited like a wildfire, racing through his veins with an intensity that stole his breath. His heart pounded. His vision blurred. He felt her—like she was part of his own body.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips. She swayed, her knees buckling, and he caught her instinctively, pulling her closer.

"I don't" she started, her voice barely a whisper.

"I know," he said, his voice rough. "I know."

Mate, his wolf howled again, but this time it wasn't a demand. It was a plea. Please. Please keep her. Please.

David closed his eyes, fighting for control. The bond was a living thing between them, a golden thread that connected his soul to hers. He could feel her heartbeat. He could feel her fear, her confusion, her desperate desire to understand what was happening.

"Sir!"

Ethan's voice cut through the fog. "Sir, you need to step back. The cameras are watching."

David opened his eyes. Ethan was beside him, his face tight with alarm. The guests were staring. Cameras were flashing. The entire room was watching the Alpha King lose his mind over a woman in a green dress.

"Sir, you're losing control," Ethan said urgently. "The pack can feel it. Everyone can feel it. You need to"

"I know what I need!" David roared.

The room went silent.

David's eyes flickered. He could feel the terror rolling off the guests, the confusion in their faces. He'd just screamed like a wild animal in front of the most powerful people in New York. His reputation, his image, his control—all of it, shattered in a single moment.

And all because of her.

He released her wrist like she'd burned him, stepping back so fast he nearly stumbled. His hand was trembling. His entire body was trembling.

"I can't do this," he said, the words raw and broken. "I can't."

"Sir," Ethan said urgently, "let's go somewhere private. We'll sort this out"

"No." David's voice hardened into ice. He turned to the crowd, forcing his expression into a cold, unreadable mask. "There's nothing to sort out. This woman is a corporate spy planted by my enemies. Security, escort her out."

She gasped. Her face crumpled. "What? No. I'm not—I'm the designer. I was hired to"

"Security!" he shouted.

Two guards appeared, grabbing her arms. She struggled, her eyes filling with tears.

"Please, I didn't do anything! I'm just a designer! I don't even know"

"You're a threat," he said coldly, cutting her off. "And I remove threats."

He met her eyes one last time. And for a single, agonizing moment, he let her see the truth behind the ice—the regret, the fear, the brokenness that was tearing him apart inside.

Then he turned away.

"Sir, we need to leave," Ethan said, his voice low and insistent. "Now."

David nodded, his face white. He walked toward the exit, every step feeling like a death march. His wolf was howling in agony, thrashing against the bars of its cage, desperate to break free and chase her down.

Let her go, the wolf screamed. No! She is ours! MINE!

David silenced it with sheer will. He couldn't think about her. He couldn't feel her. He had to focus on the pack, on the kingdom, on everything he'd built.

If he thought about her, he'd break.

He walked through the side door into the cool night air, the sounds of the gala fading behind him. Ethan followed, his footsteps silent on the pavement.

"Sir," Ethan said carefully, "that woman is your fated mate. You know that, right?"

David didn't answer. He stood in the alley, his back to his Beta, his fists clenched at his sides.

"The prophecy"

"Don't," David said, his voice a low growl. "Don't talk to me about the prophecy."

"She's the Void Luna. The one the prophecy speaks of. And you just rejected her"

"I KNOW!" David whirled on him, his face contorted with pain and rage. "I KNOW WHAT I DID! YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW?!"

He was breathing hard, his eyes wild, his control hanging by a thread. Ethan didn't flinch. He just stood there, steady as stone, waiting for David to pull himself together.

"Sir," Ethan said quietly, "I'm not judging you. I'm just asking, are you sure this was the right choice?"

David closed his eyes. The image of Amora's face flashed behind his eyelids, her broken expression, her tear-filled eyes, the way she'd begged him to believe her.

"No," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm not sure of anything."

He walked away, disappearing into the shadows of Manhattan.

Inside the gala, Eleanor Knight watched her son's retreating form. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes held a deep, ancient sadness.

"He did it again," she murmured to herself. "He let fear win."

She turned to the empty space where Amora had stood. Something stirred in her chest—a hope she hadn't felt in years.

That girl was special. She could feel it in her bones.

"Now it's your turn, young one," she whispered into the night. "Now it's your turn to change his heart.”