My Mate Returned with a Luna and Child

Five years. That’s exactly how long it takes to turn a grieving heart into a block of ice, and I had become an expert sculptor. As the lead Event Coordinator for the Regional Alpha Council, I didn't have the luxury of emotions. I had a schedule, a clipboard, and a ballroom in downtown Los Angeles that needed to look like the Moon Goddess herself had decorated it.

"The hydrangeas are wilting on table six," I barked into my headset, striding across the polished marble floor of the hotel lobby. My heels clicked a sharp, staccato rhythm that made the junior staff scatter like frightened rabbits. "Replace them. Now. And tell the valet team that if they scratch another Alpha's SUV, they’re paying for it in blood."

I checked my watch. The Moon Goddess Gala was the premier event of the season, a place where alliances were forged and broken over champagne. Everything had to be perfect. It was my armor. If I was the best, if I was indispensable, no one would look at me with that suffocating pity they’d reserved for Ella Harris, the girl whose mate died three days before her wedding.

"Breathe, El. You’re turning purple."

A large, warm hand settled on my shoulder, grounding me instantly. The scent of rich earth, pine needles, and rain enveloped me—a smell that had been my only sanctuary for half a decade.

I turned to see Alpha Corbin Rice of the Obsidian Pack grinning down at me. He was in a tuxedo that strained against his broad shoulders, his dark hair perfectly styled, but his eyes held that familiar, gentle warmth that was just for me.

"I am not turning purple," I huffed, though I leaned into his touch for a fraction of a second. "I am merely exercising my authority."

"You’re stress-eating the inside of your cheek," Corbin countered, holding out a steaming paper cup. "Black coffee. Two sugars. Drink."

I took the cup, the heat seeping into my cold fingers. Corbin was the only reason I hadn't gone rogue years ago. When Sebastian died—when my world ended—Corbin had been the one to pull me out of the darkness. He was my childhood friend, my protector, and the only Alpha who didn't look at me like a broken piece of china.

"The Ironclad Pack is late," I muttered, taking a sip. "They’re the new delegation from the north. If they don't check in within ten minutes, I’m scrubbing their seating assignment near the stage."

Corbin chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Ruthless. I like it. I’ll go smooth things over with the Elders. You handle the stragglers."

He gave my shoulder one last squeeze before heading toward the ballroom. I watched him go, a pang of gratitude hitting my chest. He was everything a true Alpha should be—strong, steady, kind. Why couldn't I just fall for him? Why was my heart still buried six feet under with an empty casket?

The automatic doors at the main entrance slid